Robert Passeno

After 73 years of cheating and taunting it, Death has finally caught up to the infamous Bob Passeno (or, "the Blur" as he claims to have been called, back in the day.) It wasn't a motorcycle or car crash. Not a fire or any of a dozen or more explosions, nor any of countless industrial accidents. It wasn't drugs or alcohol, or running from the police. Not even a sinking boat or a raging storm. Not a bullet or a fight. Not a chainsaw nor dynamite nor a freak accident that he seemed to be a magnet (or catalyst) for. In the end it was liver cancer, brought about from nearly a lifetime of unknowingly living with hepatitis C which he picked up from a blood transfusion as a little kid - after that infamous homemade rocket explosion caused him to leak out the better part of his own supply.

Bob drifted through life with the most casual, calm, optimistic, and quietly confident disposition, echoing the core sentiment of his mother, Eunice - while also putting hers to the test. His experiences seemed wholly impossible for one person to have garnered, and his characteristic retelling of them seemed so embellished and so fantastic as to be complete and utter fabrications. But then you'd meet someone he hadn't seen in forty years, and they'd invariably start retelling the same story, word for word.

If ever there lived a man that could do more with less, I'd like to meet him. There seemed to be no problem too big or too small that he didn't have a solution for, and often one that was so outside-the- box that no one else would have dared. "Efficient" is the polite word that he strived for, but often others would mockingly call his solution "cheap" or "lazy" or often deriding: "That'll never work" and almost always pointing out how grossly unsafe his plans were. But he always had the last laugh as it gloriously worked, and did so for less money, less materials, less time and less effort. He was always welcomed and even solicited on any adventure like a good-luck-charm that could plug and pump any leaking hull, restart any dead engine, jury rig any mast, fix any flat, mend any belt or wire, and carry on as if nothing had happened with that unflappable charisma. He's had countless vehicles and vessels buried in mud, broken down, busted through ice, sunk, dismasted, and set adrift: but he'd never been "stuck", only "momentarily delayed". That quote is a testament to his dry humor, his bullheaded indomitable spirit, and his simple inability to be bested by the physical world.

There now exists an incalculable void in our world, for he was a prime representative of a whole generation of men that were DOERS. He didn't go to college. He sure as hell didn't get a permit. He didn't hire professionals and certainly didn't need directions. No matter the medium; wood or iron, concrete or fabric, construction or demolition; intricate as carving a blooming onion, or crude as dynamiting and bulldozing, he just DID it.

Legend has it, he consciously expected he'd never live to see age 30, and not without good reason! But then he met and married Debbie Trost, and transitioned into a mild teddy bear of a guy, having already lived countless lifetimes of adventure and risk. They enjoyed nearly 50 years together, facing all of life's highs and lows.

No pair of sons have ever chanced upon so great an influence. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCRQatvnMhE (see video below).

No funeral or memorial services are planned. If you wish to express your sympathy to his family, please just reach out and tell us a story. Especially one we haven't heard - we dare you!

If you feel inclined to contribute to a memorial, please consider in memory of their son, the Clinton Robert Passeno Memorial Tool Scholarship by using the "Donate" button at www.cheboyganfoundation.org (active link found below).

But you MUST put "Clinton Passeno Scholarship" in the memo on the check, or in the "special instructions to seller" box on their paypal donation page.