Robert Bruce Chapman

West Point, 1955

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Bill Cimonetti on April 29, 2008:

ROBERT B. CHAPMAN, 1930-2008 It has been my great good fortune to know Bob Chapman as a “best-of-friends” for more than sixty of his and my seventy-seven years. The Chapman family moved to the small town of Wilmington, Vermont, in the summer of 1946. My family had moved from Wilmington to western Massachusetts in 1942, and we returned to Wilmington in 1946. Thus Bob and I were the “new kids” in the high school in a class that two years later graduated eleven. While I’m sure there are opportunities for great memories from being a part of a really large community or school class, we always knew that were really fortunate to be a part of a tiny class in a small school in a small town in a rural state. On several occasions we mutually recalled how far we had come in time and fortune from 1940’s Wilmington. Bob’s dad was a dairy herdsman who worked on various farms in rural New England, and while in Wilmington coaxed national records from his, and Bob’s, beloved “little brown cows”. Bob’s mom was a warm and hard-working mother and homemaker. Bob’s sister Shirley and brother Bud were “big kids” when the family came to Wilmington; they were grown and out of school. Bob’s younger brother Dick and sister Barbara were the ‘little kids”, behind us in school. Bob Chapman was an immediate hit in small town Wilmington, smart, well-mannered, industrious, and always immaculately groomed. Bob, Reg Maynard, (from a forever Wilmington family), and I quickly became a triumvirate, although in this town and school everyone knew everyone. From 1946 on, Bob, Reg and Bill were a team; always connected, sometimes in minor trouble, forever the best of friends. Bob displayed early in high school the breadth of interests and talents that marked his life. He was a good student, but more. He was an athlete, but more. He was a hard worker, but more. As his latent talents were discovered in high school he emerged throughout his life as a renaissance man, imbued with a love of learning of music, art, science, and life. In high school Bob displayed true talent in both art and music. He was the “go-to guy” for sketches for our school magazine, a publication literally cranked out by hand on the school’s mimeograph four times a year. Gifted with a fine singing voice, Bob was a key contributor to the Glee Club, and a steady performer in school and town theatrics. After high school we all went off to conquer; Reg and I initially to different engineering colleges, and Bob to the U. S. Army. Interestingly, by 1954, Reg was a graduate civil engineer, commissioned in the U. S. Navy Civil Engineering Corps, I was a graduate of The Engineer Officer Candidate School, commissioned in the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers, and Bob was a cadet at the U. S. Military Academy, soon to become a career artilleryman and senior military planner. My own mom remarked many times of a comforting visit Bob and Reg made to our house at Christmas, 1954, while I was serving as a company commander in Korea. I wasn’t in harm’s way, but in my mom’s thoughts, at a great distance, and Bob and Reg visiting made her feel that all was well. I fondly remember two different visits with Bob while he was at West Point. Bob was a member of the USMA Glee Club throughout his four years as a cadet, and on at least one occasion the Glee Club appeared on the Ed Sullivan show. Bob invited me to join with the glee clubbers after that performance in New York. On another occasion I joined Bob and his classmates at their dining table at West Point, an impressive event for me. While we saw little of one another for several busy years, Bob and I stayed in contact. I remember tracking him down by phone in 1972 while he was on field exercises in Bavaria and I was on a business trip to Munich. Those contacts provided the opportunity for us to connect in a major way in 1980. At that time I was managing an aerospace business for General Electric, and Bob was serving one more successful tour in plans and operations at the Pentagon. Over a delightful dinner with Bob and Phyllis in Alexandria I urged Bob to consider applying for a planning position at our GE facility; he did, and thus started yet another chapter in his significant career. Bob became a key contributor to the aerospace business, and Bob and Phyllis became stalwart members of the Burlington, Vermont, community, As we all moved into active retirement, Bob’s love for music and art continued. We spent joyous hours at concerts at Saratoga Performing Arts Center. Bob honed his sketching and painting skills. Bob’s involvement in his many interests didn’t wane in retirement, they intensified. What had been occasional sketching sessions developed into extended art lessons, experimentation in various media, and a growing collection of carefully constructed watercolors. Bob’s knowledge of and appreciation for classical music grew in maturity. Bob didn’t merely dabble in photography, genealogy, and astronomy; he dove in, studied and worked hard, and enjoyed each immensely. The renaissance man was reaching fulfillment! Among my warmest memories are those of boating with Bob; not paddling around the lake for an afternoon, but passage making with a purpose. When we bought our recreational trawler Bob jumped at the chance to sign on for the initial delivery from Portsmouth, Rhode Island to Lake Champlain. On that voyage he became the official photographer, creating a magnificent written and pictorial log. Subsequently Bob and I, with two other close friends, developed a pattern of golf voyaging as we cruised the trawler each fall from the Chesapeake Bay to South Florida, with golfing stops along the way. After one journey Bob presented me with a lovely watercolor of our trawler ANDIAMO, created from his visualization of our passage making. Bob was a great golfing pal with whom I enjoyed many a small tournament, the two dollar Nassau with our Saturday foursome, and great Friday Night Couples games with our spouses; golf’s greatest excuse for cocktails and fine dining. I don’t know where or when Bob discovered golf, certainly not in Wilmington in the 1940’s, but as with all of his other interests, he developed good skill and great intensity in the game. Bob was always a doer more than a talker. My own vision of the hereafter is a circumstance in which we all are just that which we hoped to be in life. And while this vision could be one of a chaotic clash of cultures, it isn’t. I believe that in the hereafter we all persist in true harmony while maintaining our individuality. Thus I know and relish in the thought that there will come a time when Bob and I will once again knock-back a good scotch, knock in a curling eighteen foot putt, and admire the beauty of knock-out ladies. Here’s to you, Bob Chapman, a good soldier, a good man, a good husband, father and grandfather, and a best friend. Bill Cimonetti April, 2008

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