Rob was a third-generation New York City firefighter. He was born to be a mechanic. “Big engines, Mommy, big engines!” he used to say. All his trucks, trains, and cars would be taken apart and rebuilt.
Rob was our own renaissance man. After college, he worked as a diesel mechanic for Cummins, an EMT for New York City, a police officer for NYC, and finally found his niche as a marine engineer for the New York City Fire Department. He loved that he followed in his father’s and grandfather’s shoes to the FDNY. Rob helped to build the engine rooms of the new fireboats for New York, and he served proudly on the 343.
Rob was Mr. Personality and had legions of friends from every stage of his life. He was particularly proud of his niece, Delaney, and his five godchildren.
Rob’s heart was as big as himself. He loved surprising recipients with gifts, flowers, or delicious food. He was a great cook and would invite his dad and me for barbecues at his mountain retreat.
Rob’s death has truly diminished us all. He died a short eight months after his father died. He is sorely missed.