My wife and I moved quickly and managed to make a 6:30 AM flight out of Burlington, Vermont to Sacramento, with stops at Chicago and San Francisco. Upon arrival at Sacramento, Bob's wife, Fran and her daughter Donna met us. By auto, immediately sped off toward Jackson California - Bob and Fran's home for the past 17 years and the site of Bob's funeral to be held that very afternoon.

We hurried into the Chapel at Jackson only moments before the service was to begin. I was honored and privileged to deliver a fitting eulogy for Bob - one that I hastily prepared during our flight to California.The following day we drove over 500 miles to down to Corona, California, the home of Fran's daughter, Donna. It was at neighboring Riverside that the full military funeral and burial would be held the following day at the National Cemetery there.

This was the first time I had ever attended a military funeral at a national cemetery. It was a most impressive and touching ceremony - one that Olga and I will always remember.

Two Air Force honor guards stood vigil over the casket shrouded by an American flag. Following taps, the Masonic ritual was held and once again I was allowed to deliver my eulogy. Whether by coincidence, or maybe God planned it that way a "fly-by" from near by March Field as held to honor Bob. Approximately, it occurred at mid-point of tribute. It seemed so ironical that it would happen at that particular moment in the ceremony.

Afterwards, I had the opportunity to visit with briefly with Bob's children - Bob III, John and daughter Sue. I remembered young Bob and Sue's names had been painted on the side of "Lord's Prayer", directly beneath their dad's position in the aircraft.

Several grandchildren and many other relatives and friends were in attendance, as well, at the inspiring ceremony.

In conversations with Fran Spaulding and others I have learned quite a bit about Bob's post -war life.

After separation from the service, he had worked awhile in an insurance agency in or near Los Angeles. At some point following this, her served a hitch in the Air Force as a Technical Sergeant with the intentions of pursuing a military career. His plans must have changed, however because he chose not to re-enlist. Following an offer from American Airlines, which he turned down, Bob went to work for Chrysler Corporation setting up automobile dealerships around California.

He held this position for a while and worked for several automobile agencies during the succeeding years. Eventually, Bob and a partner established and ran their own agency.

Along about the mid-sixties Bob and his wife, Laura, were divorced. In 1970, he and Fran were married and around 1975 they took up residence in northern California in the small town of West Point in the Sierra foothills. They bought and operated a small store for several years, which they eventually sold.

About three years ago, Bob developed cancer, which through radiation and chemotherapy was temporarily arrested. However, it reoccurred at a later date and eventually spread to his lungs causing the disease to become terminal.

On Tuesday, July 28, 1992, Bob lost his battle to this ravishing disease. Ironically, Fran received my letter a scant two days later.

She emphasized how deeply that Bob had remembered this crew and the wartime experiences they shared. Through the years, he yearned to be reunited with his former buddies once more. However he had lost their addresses long ago and was unable to proceed in the process of finding them. His wish would have been to fulfill, at least in partially, if he had lived another two or three days. But it was not meant to be. Instead of a long awaited reunion, destiny had planned a funeral instead.