Bob grew up two hours away in Bayside, made famous as he said, for having a White Castle Hamburger restaurant. Yet, as I understand it, they met each other in Florida. 

 

 The Year was 1966; GTO’S, Mustangs, and all manner of American Iron ruled the roads. When Bob noticed a Green Morris Minor Traveler a local had just purchased, Bob and his buddies thought it would be fun to pick it up and put it on the sidewalk in front of the local Soda Shop. Liz noticed one for the first time 12 years later in 1978, also a green Traveller in Fort Lauderdale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

American, Morris Minor Registry in 2002. We talked on the phone for hours sometimes, and sent parts and presents back and forth.

 

I felt so bad when they both fell ill, and then his wife of over thirty years died a year later.

(Read the story)

 

He had built Agatha the Traveller as a theme car for Liz... She being a chief of Police loved the Agatha Christie Mysteries...

 

After she died it, became too painful to live with the memory of everyday seeing the Morris. One night Bob called and said, ‘I am sending this car to you; do what you have to do to sell it” and he sent it lock stock and everything Morris with the car to me, including the title. 

 

We had no deal. He had never met me. I was in Los Angeles and he Florida. My wife was out of a job and we were living on credit and unemployment.

 

There are no coincidences, only little miracles where god wishes to remain anonymous...

 

I was honored that he trusted me and the fates with 'whatever you think'.

 

My economic problems compelled me at that time to sell my prized black convertible Morris, and I sold it cheap to get my family through the summer of 2009.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the dealer finally saw Agatha, he conceded to Bob's price, but Bob said no, he wanted someone to own it that would love the car as much as his wife did. It was like he wanted me to have it, or my son I was not sure?

 

Those pictures that Bob sent me, well he had printed the images on the wrong side of the paper. The pictures were quite nice. The time came where I needed some photographic paper to send a picture to Michael Goes who was buying my black convertible. I printed the photo on the glossy side, and sent it to the buyer of my car, in of all places, Florida...

 

The moment he got the photo he called and said “his wife wants the car that is printed on the back side Liz’s yellow Morris Traveller; tell me the price.”  One week later, Agatha the Traveller was on the same transport as my black convertible back to Florida, not 100 miles from where Agatha had come from.

 

Funny coincidence, the fates had spoken. I sent the money to Bob, and when he found out I was having money problems, he offered to send it back to me.  However, I declined. He also sent me some parts that I sold, and I used the money to buy him a three wheeled bike. Riding a bike a 55 has helped save my life... So far…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bob was proud of his Scottish heritage. I believe he had a Viking in his soul.  So, I reprint this poem that they chant in honor of the Vikings that have passed.

 

Lo, there do I see my father.

Lo, there do I see my mother,

And my sisters, .

And my brothers,

Lo, there do I see the line of my people,

Back to the beginning!

Lo, they do call to me.

They bid me take my place among them,

In the halls of Valhalla!

Where the brave may live forever!        

 

 

 

Here is a story I wrote about Bob for the Club

 

http://www.dolphnproductions.com/index_files/Page762.htm

 

 

 

Here are some pictures...

 

http://dolphnproductions.com/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=4137

 

 

 

 

Planned Wake—April 25th

 

http://www.dolphnproductions.com/gribbyswake.doc

 

 

 

Randolph Williams

 

 

 

 

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                                                Good Bye Bob Gribbon

                                                 By Randolph Williams

Bob Gribbon seemed special to me from the first time l spoke with him in 2002. The fact that he died on what would have been my father’s birthday is another in the series of tender mercies that endeared me to Bob and Liz. Liz grew up in Hyde Park New York, up state near the homes of the Vanderbilt’s and President Roosevelt on the Hudson River. Bob told methat Liz’s father repaired the President’s television.

She said, “they always bring smiles to people’s faces. Something lacking in today’s society.”

 

I have never met Bob face to face. However, we are of kindred spirits. He has shown me unexpected acts of kindness, and I have tried to respond in kind. We first came in contact through the North

Bob had sent me some pictures of the car a few months earlier so that I could show them to a dealer, but the dealer low balled him even though he had just gotten a record price for another Morris Traveller as nice.

That is the all and all about Bob and his wife... He worked as a postman, loved cars, but most of all, he loved his wife from the day he met her... Another story…

 

Liz, before she died, made him promise that he would fight to his last breath to stay alive. I don't think I would have the strength, especially without my wife and love of 30 years. Maybe you see why I would want to help, or at least not want him to suffer.

 

I am sure that Bob has been this way with many people; kindness and love without measure...