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Memoirs
Robert John Drabek
(1947—2006)
A Chronology ................................................................................................................................................ 2
Some Names .................................................................................................................................................. 5
Of Robert John Drabek ............................................................................................................................... 7
1. The Earliest Years ................................................................................................................................. 7
2. The Formative Years ............................................................................................................................. 8
3. Reaching Maturity ................................................................................................................................11
4. The Middle Years .................................................................................................................................12
5. Bringing It All to the End .....................................................................................................................13
6. My Mother ............................................................................................................................................14
7. My Father .............................................................................................................................................15
8. My Son .................................................................................................................................................16
The Glory Box ..............................................................................................................................................17
On Being Sick...............................................................................................................................................18
Side Effects of Interferon ..........................................................................................................................18
I Am Not Robert Drabek ...........................................................................................................................18
From the Shopping Mall ............................................................................................................................19
Dear Bonnie and Mac ................................................................................................................................19
A Chronology
March 26, 1947 Birth, Fort Sam Houston Military Hospital, San Antonio, Texas.
May 1947 Parents moved to Phoenix, Arizona.
March 1951 Mother left father and married Robert Barnes.
September 1953 Moved to grandmother Drabek's; started elementary school at St. Mary's--1st grade.
September 1954 Started Garfield Elementary--2nd grade. Got left index finger stuck in washing
machine wringer. Met Cornell DeRonde.
September 1958 Started Edison School--6th grade.
1958 Worked as a Doughnut Boy.
1959 Worked as a paperboy.
August 1961 Argument with Cornell DeRonde ended our friendship.
September 1961 Started Phoenix Union High School--9th grade.
September 1962 Met Robert Eugene "Gene" Dozier in Algebra class.
October 1963 Met Ernesto Franco.
March 31, 1965 Dropped out of high school and entered US Air Force. Six weeks in basic at
Lackland Air Force base in San Antonio, Texas.
May 1965 Transferred to the Radar technical school at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi,
Mississippi.
February 1966 Transferred to the 612 Radar Squadron in Ajo, Arizona.
October 30, 1968 Honorable discharge from US Air Force with the rank of Sergeant. Moved to
Phoenix, Arizona.
September 1969 Left Phoenix, Arizona. Took a job with Telonic Industries in Laguna Beach,
California as an electronics technician.
February 1970 Quit Telonic. Moved to Los Angeles to live with Consuelo Franco.
Fall 1970 Started classes at East Los Angeles College and started drawing on my GI Bill.
December 1970 Married Consuelo.
January 1971 Find Consuelo is pregnant. Decided not to have an abortion.
Summer 1971 Started work as a carpenter to be able to pay for the doctor and delivery.
Fall 1971 Decided not to return to school full time but to work for at least one semester and
take a class at night.
September 14, 1971 Had an accident at work and lost right index finger.
September 17, 1971 Elliott born.
October 1971 The three of us move into Consuelo's parents' house since her father went to Mexico
and left her mother and her brother Tony in LA. I will work and pay the bills, but
there won't be any rent. And Consuelo will be able to continue with school while
her mother takes care of the baby and the house.
Summer 1972 I quit carpentry after one year and one finger, then we pack up the VW and spend
the summer in Uruapan, Michoacan, Mexico. Elliott gets sick with salmonella and
we almost loose him—he spends several days in a hospital in Mexico City. He and
his mother fly back; I drive the car back to the States.
Fall 1972 I go back to school. Only one semester needed before I can transfer to the
University of California system.
Winter 1973 I transfer to UC Irvine as Mathematics major. We live about two months in Santa
Ana, then move to student housing (Verano Place) on campus. I work part time at
Telonic Industries to supplement my GI Bill and student loans.
Fall 1973 Tony Franco, Consuelo's younger brother, comes to live with us since their mother
moves to Mexico with the father.
Summer 1974 Esperanza comes back and gets Tony. Elliott succeeds in toilet training.
Fall 1974 Consuelo and I split. I get Elliott. I quit Telonic since I can't go to school, take care
of the kid, and work 20 hours. Maybe I can, but I probably shouldn't try.
Spring 1975 I can graduate but don't feel ready. And there are now extended VA education
benefits I can take advantage of if I delay graduation.
Summer 1975 I spend the summer in Mexico City. I come back thinking I want to teach so I take
courses in the graduate teaching program continuing as an undergraduate to keep
my VA benefits.
Winter 1976 I complete the one math class I need and they graduate me so my GI Bill benefits
end and I take out some more student loans.
Spring 1976 I do my student teaching and complete my teacher's certification as a graduate
student.
Summer 1976 I am not too excited about teaching now. I decide to explore Arizona. Put all our
possessions into storage and we stay with Gene again. I never find a technical job,
so start looking for a teaching job. Signed a contract for a position at the high
school in Chinle, Arizona. Then signed another for a position in San Manuel,
Arizona. Wiggle my way out of the first.
Spring 1977 I buy the truck, ND 9326
Fall 1978 After two years in San Manuel with no real future and a possibility of layoffs due to
a diminishing population in San Manuel I resign.
Summer 1978 We hang around in Arizona and California in the camper shell I built up on the back
of the truck. I find another teaching position--Prescott Junior High.
Spring 1979 After one year of teaching junior high I decide I can not bear up under that any
longer. Apply for and am accepted in the computer science graduate program at the
University of Arizona.
Summer 1979 I stay both with Gene and my stepfather while taking a summer class at Arizona
State University.
Fall 1979 We move into a nice two-bedroom apartment in Tucson (423 E Delano).
Spring 1980 Meet Lloyd Wiebe.
Summer 1980 Take up with Rachel Holland.
Fall 1980 Break up with Rachel Holland.
Summer 1981 Take up with Karen Brown.
Fall 1981 I graduate with a Masters of Science. I take up with Rita. I take up with Mary Jane.
Spring 1982 I take the lecturer's position in the Computer Science Department at the UA.
Summer 1982 I break up with Mary Jane. Karen and I go to Mexico.
Fall 1982 Karen is attacked while asleep in her apartment. We move into a house on Kelso
Avenue and I break up with Rita.
Summer 1983 I meet Carol; Karen and I break up. I move to an apartment on Second Avenue.
Carol goes to Italy for the summer and then moves in with me when she comes
back.
December 1983 Carol and I marry.
January 1985 We move to the Santa Rita house.
Summer 1985 Carol moves out.
January 1986 Elliott and I move to another Second Avenue apartment.
Spring 1986 Divorce from Carol final.
March 21, 1986 I discover Yan Shen, a CSc 327 student, during office hours.
July 1986 I finally get Yan.
April 1987 We get Ada.
March 1988 We buy Navajo house.
April 1988 I marry Yan.
August 1988 We go to China.
November 1988 Elliott is put into his own place.
May 1988 Elliott graduates from high school; he does a summer class (English) and university
orientation.
1989-1991 After one semester, the kid quits school and spends a couple of years trying to get in
trouble and kill me.
1992 I start working for Artisoft part-time for one semester then quit my lecturer’s
position at the UA and work only at Artisoft, though not full-time.
Winter 1993 Yan takes a job in the Washington DC area, and we visit each other every few
weeks.
Summer 1993 We decide to make the move to DC (Falls Church, Virginia). We pack up the
things we want into a rental trailer and the back of my truck, then drive cross-
country. Elliott has been going to school again, and I let him and Holly use our
house for the 1993-1994 school year.
Aug 93-Feb 94 I get to not work and to just hang around. I’m not a really good wife, but I relax
and do take a Chinese class.
February 1994 Take a job at LAS (Linguistic Analysis Systems).
Summer 1994 Elliott and Holly move out and I rent the Navajo house. I spent a week in Tucson
getting the house ready, selling, giving away, and putting into storage our
possessions.
Fall 1994 My mother moves in with us from Phoenix after some trouble with my brother
Tom.
January 1995 We buy the Kemper Street house in Rockville, Maryland—this is very close to
Yan’s work, though not so good for me.
Aug 28, 1995 Hensley is born.
Oct 1995 Hensley arrives
Winter 1995 We sell the Navajo house.
May 1995 Elliott graduates from the University of Arizona with a degree in Linguistics and
minors in Oriental Studies and Computer Science.
1996 Mother moves to her own apartment.
September 1997 Quit LAS and start working at Fusion; it is part-time and very close to home.
September 1998 Elliott starts graduate program in Computer Science at Tsing Hua University in
Beijing.
1999 Start working at Lockhead-Martin for six months. Start working at Patapsco for
five months.
February 2000 Start working at Answer Logic.
July 3, 2000 Diagnosed with CML (Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia). It’s probably a death
sentence. I try to go to work, but the fear and the medicines are just too much.
August 2000 The doctor at Johns Hopkins starts me on Interferon after my WBC’s come down
with Hydroxyurea. The side-effects of Interferon pretty much ruin the next three
years of my existence. I don’t know if I can say it was really a life, as I was in
really bad shape.
May 2001 Elliott graduates from Tsing Hua University with a Masters in Computer Science.
He returns from Beijing and starts the Ph.D. in CSc at Johns Hopkins.
Oct 2001 I accidentally leave the gate to the backyard open and Ada takes off and I will never
be able to forget this or forgive myself. She was the first dog I had for such a long
time. And I think neither Elliott nor Yan will quite forgive me.
Dec 2001 Tycho comes to us.
March 2002 Emily comes to the US and the kids get married (March 15, 2002).
September 2003 We vacation in Oregon. Yan gets me an appointment at OSHU, where they have
done a lot of work on CML. The doctor there finally convinces me that I need to
switch from Interferon to Gleevec—I get my life back somewhat.
Some Names
Robert Micheal Drabek—Father
SSN: 301-20-5332
B: 25 Oct 1927—Youngstown, Mahoning, Ohio
D: 7 Sept 1999—Phoenix, Arizona
B: F: John Paul Drabek
M: Mary Theresa Sichta
Helen Theresa Pretter—Mother
SSN: 463-36-0774
B: 14 Sept 1927—NYC, NY
F: Nicholas Pretter
M: Albertine Frye Pretter
Robert Barnes—Stepfather
SSN: 349-01-7348
B: 3 July 1912—Laurton, Mich. (Spelling?)
D: May 1981—Phoenix, Arizona
F: Thomas Barnes
M: Lavina Welcher (Melcher?)
Thomas Robert Barnes—Half brother
SSN:
B: 5 Dec 1951—Phoenix, Arizona
F: Robert Barnes
M: Helen Theresa Pretter
Micheal Drabek—Half brother
SSN:
B:
F: Robert M. Drabek
M: Doris Jean Jennings
John Paul Drabek—Paternal grandfather
SSN: 278-09-5674
B: 14 Nov 1897—Scalitsa, Netra, Czech.
D: June 1967—Phoenix, Arizona
F: John Drabek
M: Anna Sichta
Mary Theresa (Sichta) Drabek—Paternal grandmother
SSN: 526-64-7083
B: 3 April 1906—Austria Hungary (Czechoslovakia)
D: Feb 78—Phoenix, Arizona
F: Paul Sichta
M: Mary Bernoch
Nicholas Pretter—Maternal grandfather
SSN: 091-03-7920
B: 25 Sep 1895—NYC, NY
D: 10 Feb 1975—Volusia, Florida
F: Carmelo Proetto
M: Maria Giusto (Givsto?)
Albertine Frye Pretter—Maternal grandmother
SSN: 465-10-4089
B: 12 March 1889—Shreveport, Louisiana
D: 11 July 1988—San Antonio, Texas
F: Thomas George Frye
M: Mary Helen Olcott
Of Robert John Drabek
1. The Earliest Years
This is not a literary memoir, but instead a way for my son and wife and others to know more of me. I will
stick to the facts and try to make it entertaining.
My first memory was when we lived above the store on 14 th and Fillmore streets. I recall looking through
the chain-link fence at a dog. I don’t know if the dog was a stray or belonged to the store’s owner. I was
maybe three years old. Is it interesting that a dog played the main role in my earliest recollection? My
mother and father lived there, and their relationship was deteriorating. The neighbor became interested in
my mother, since she was 22 years old, thin and maybe attractive; he was 37. Well, my parents broke up,
my mother moved next door, and I now had a stepfather. He became one of the most important people in
my life, accepting me, treating me well, and teaching me.
My next memories were from age four or five. I don’t have the chronology down exactly, so the next
stories could be out of order.
The ants. I was playing of the sidewalk in from of the 14 th Street house when my stepfather moved us.
Suddenly I was screaming because there were these ants crawling all over me, big red ants. Or maybe there
were only two or three. But my mother heard my and came to my rescue.
The worms. We had a washing machine, the kind with a roller-type wringer on top. When my mother used
it, she let the dirty water drain out into a shallow area. Son one day I was playing in the dirt while she did
the washing, and when the water drained out near me, a huge number of earthworms came tearing out of
the ground. I screamed and my mother rescued me. No, neither ants nor worms scare me, but I do
remember my introductions.
The washing machine again. I had seen my mother use the wringer, so one day she went to visit the
neighbor lady, Mrs. Glen, and I thought I’d try my hand (there’s a pun there—later) at wringing out
something. Not being big enough to each the wringer, I found a box or something to stand on, and got
something to feed into that mechanism. I managed to not only feed in the rag, but my finger, too. I
screamed again and fell off the box. My finger, though, was caught tightly and I hung for several minutes
while the rollers tore at my flesh. My mother eventually came to my rescue. There was definitely a visit to
the doctor for that one, and my left index finder still has the scar.
More scientific investigation. I remember being in that yard one day and noticing a plane fly overhead. I
had a stick in my hand and tried to use it to reach that plane. That turned out to be a failure, but I thought
about it, and wondered if I could find a long enough stick someday with which I could succeed.
My brother. In this same house I remember when my mother was pregnant with Tom. I was maybe four,
and I touched her stomach and realized kind of what was happening.
My first song. My mother listened to country-western of course, and a popular song at the time was “How
much is that doggy in the window?” I recall asking my mother to write the station to play it for me. I don’t
think we ever did. Alaska became a state, I seem to recall.
My fathers. One day my biological father came to this house, and an argument ensued between him and
my stepfather. No idea what was going on between them, but it ended suddenly when my father’s head
was shoved through the front door window. I think I recall the repair to the window.
I was not sent to kindergarten; maybe it was considered too modern, but Tom did go.
My stepfather drove a 30’s-era car with a rumble seat. The memory of riding back there is coolness.
I started first grade, but after a couple of days I had to stay home for a week. It was either because of the
wringer incident or I got some childhood disease like the measles. I do remember lying in bed—since it
was a one-bedroom cottage I slept in the living room—maybe only after Tom was born.
Then came a struggle between my mother and father, and I spent my first-grade year with my father’s
parents. School that year was at St. Mary’s. The nun’s do, or at least did, hit us with rulers. I remember
having to hand over my report card to someone, maybe my Aunt Birdie (Bernadette) who is only two years
older than me and was in the same school. I cried. Not very auspicious with regard to my future academic
achievements.
Two events about St. Mary’s still remain with me. One, while trying to eat the boiled cabbage in the
cafeteria one lunchtime, I wound up vomiting. Bitter, soft stuff doesn’t appeal to kids.
The second event is more significant with respect to my eventual philosophical outlook. After flushing the
toilet during a break, maybe recess or lunchtime, the toilet overflowed. I ran out of there and into the
playground and tried to hide. The only hiding place I found was behind a tall palm tree (Phoenix,
remember). I looked up beyond the fronds and had the sinking feeling that this was not working—God
could always see me. I don’t know if I understood then the lesson I later gave myself about God and guilt,
but such fear cannot be good for children. The boiled cabbage of spirituality.
My aunts, Birdie and Dorothy, were an important part of my life during that time. There was a telephone at
my grandparents and one day we called random people and made jokes. We made mustard sandwiches.
That house had a cellar and a sloping cellar door still invokes memories of that house. My grandfather and
a big Nash (Hudson)—it looked like a big beetle and I thought it was cool.
My first Christmas I remember may have been before first grade, at a different house from that mentioned
above that my grandparents had. It had a basement and us kids had to go down there when Santa Claus
tinkled his bell and left presents upstairs. In high school my normal route took me by that house.
My grandparent also had another house near where I spent most of my childhood. But other than its cellar
door I don’t remember actually being there.
My father and grandfather built a house during that first grade year. It was concrete block; they were
bricklayers. One night Birdie and I were left home alone and by on a bed we could see the screen of a
drive-in theater where “The Creature from the Black Lagoon” was playing. My father bought a maybe new
1955 Ford. I was given a spaceman helmet with a silvered faceplate. I could see out, but people could not
see my face.
My grandparents must have moved a lot. I remember getting sick and having to stay home-maybe mumps
this time? I got a toy toolbox, plastic and wood hammer, screwdriver and more.
Finally, this period of my life ended in the house of mustard sandwiches. I remember sitting on the piano
bench crying, people around me were yelling and arguing, there were police. Someone came up to this
confused six-year-old boy and asked if I wanted to live with my mother or my father. I must have said
mother. I almost never saw my father again, and only rarely got to visit my grandparents and aunts.
2. The Formative Years
One of the neighbors while at the Barnes 14th Street house were Mr. and Mrs. Glen Young. He owned a
Jeep pickup of a type which still grabs my attention if I see one, though only in print these days. He had a
garage for doing various things like working on his cars and even doing wood lathe work. He had a lot of
small jars attached to the ceiling of the garage by their lids and he kept his various screws and bolts in
these. She usually had candy in bowls at Christmas time.
There was an area in our back yard (1418 E Taylor St) where we could dig freely. I remember thinking at a
very young age that I could dig a hole to China. While messing around with my brother one day, he dove
into one of our holes as I was letting go with an attack at the dirt with a shovel and it cut his head pretty
bad. I sometimes thought about building an aboveground fallout shelter there; it was part of the U.S. fear
of attack from the evil, godless Russians.
I remember eating dog treats and especially liking the black charcoal ones.
One Halloween night my brother and I went trick-or-treating by ourselves, and as we rounded the corner
and only a couple of houses from our house, some “bad” kids started chasing us and we lost most of our
treats, but did get home.
I had an area in the backyard yard which was my sanctuary where I erected a something like a piece of
canvas. I was able to escape other people add achieved a certain level of privacy. The neighboring yard
had some grapevines growing along the wire fence, and I remember trying to smoke them in my tent. I
also played around with my chemistry set and successfully trimmed back my ingrown toenail there.
I recall setting a fire accidentally with a magnifying glass in the vacant lot across from our house.
Someone called a fire engine, but no one figured out it was I.
There was a large cedar tree nearby which I could climb in and achieve a certain feeling of peace.
Once I watched as another “bad” kid beat and tortured a kitten. I finally got myself together enough to run
home and tell my mother, but by the time we got back it was too late. I believe he got in trouble for that,
but I also believe he ended up in a lot of trouble later in his life, with this incident an early sign of his
future.
Lost my Collie; my mother came to school to pick me up to tell me; found a piece of his bone where he had
been hit
Shooting bird with a pin-tipped arrow
Playing in the water in the street after a rain
Erector set
Catching grasshoppers
Plans for making a telephone with a friend down the street between our houses
Stepfather built sixth-grade science project
My one-tube radio kit
Dreams of radio-controlled plane and reading the Allied (?) catalogs
Grandma Pretter came to stay one year
Pulling on the wagon handle and having it hit my head when my mother let go
Broken ankle
Falling from the fire escape and hitting the back of my head; was in the hospital for almost a week
Doughnut boy; paper boy
Saw a “color” TV for the first time through a screen door at age 12 and was amazed. Dismayed at it not
being what I thought it would be; in fact, it was not what I thought it was, but just a filter that they would
sell people to make their BW TV’s look like color TV’s.
Boy Scouts; two summer camps; outings; Scoutmaster Jimmie James
Buttons
St. Mary’s, Garfield, Edison schools
Cornell DeRonde
Robert Eugene Dozier
3. Reaching Maturity
The Air Force
Ted Dickinson
Earthquakes in California
Elliott
East Los Angeles College
UCI
Teaching High School and Junior High
4. The Middle Years
The University of Arizona
Yan
5. Bringing It All to the End
Industry
The Washington DC area
6. My Mother
7. My Father
8. My Son
The Glory Box
What would be needed for the journey? A cardboard carton that once held bottles of liquid Glory floor
polish was about all I could find in the house, and it now held what I would use for the next week as I left
Phoenix and wandered towards the dreams of California.
It's a fine fall Arizona day in 1969 and I've spent almost a year doing the sixties thing, the only thing I
seemed able to do after four years in the service. Two nights ago my roommate got me into the Janis Joplin
concert through contacts with a local hip rag. By the time the helicopter brought Janis into the open-air
stadium, the acid was coming on strong and I found a corner of someone's blanket to use. Two hours of
lights and sounds, and Ted came looking for me. The local concert promoters were putting on a reception
for Janis in Cavecreek, 30 miles into the incomparable rock and sky of the Arizona desert. She never
showed, but we were happy to be there anyhow. Since I'm only surprised by a good turn of events, I was
quiet and pensive as Ted drove us back home in his primitive VW dune buggy.
The next day, yesterday, as my mind struggled to clear itself of psychoactive chemicals, I also struggled.
I'm not an ambitious person, but I do understand my debt to those people who developed the technology
and machines which bring me food, entertainment, and modern conveniences every day, those who
educated me, those who have brought all of us this far. So yesterday I stood up and told myself I'll never
be able to pay this debt without leaving behind my few dear friends. They've treated me as a brother, and I
know we can go on this way. In ten years we'll all be doing the same things we're doing now if I remain. If
I leave, in ten years I may be paying my debts and others may be in debt to me, continuing the progress of
humanity. If I can be an example, that may help them form and realize dreams. If they decide to remain,
then the world is big enough and strong enough to carry them along anyhow. No matter how it turns out,
I've started with Glory under my arm.
The middle-aged driver takes pity on me and pulls off to the side of the road and tells me he's going as far
as Wickenburg. His trip includes a couple of stops at small stores to check on his clients. Why is he
leaving his keys in the ignition and me in the front seat as he goes in? This man with a haircut can't know
me, so why is he gambling this way? Maybe I should warn him that the next long hair may not be so
trustworthy? No. We're finally to where he needs to head back home and I have been too timid to bring up
his trust in me. "Drive carefully," I wave, and I'm resting my rectangular companion on the ground,
wondering where we'll be spending the night.
Sitting in the back seating and leaning forward talking to the other hitchhiker and the driver, I am amazed
by the night scene in front of me. We are cresting a hill and starting down into the Los Angeles valley, and
in front of us are two continuous strings of lights, one red and one white.
This last year since my discharge from the Air Force has been quiet in some ways. During the first couple
of months I stayed with my friend Gene. He was living with his girl friend Susan Marie in a one-room
shack on the outskirts of Phoenix. We used the desert floor or the restrooms of a gas station about a half
mile away for taking care of those things we normally associate with a home's bathroom. I tried to stay out
of their way, though I'm certain she was never too appreciative of my presence. Then I found various
places to sleep and various ways to eat. Friends came and went leaving behind ideas and visions if they
had nothing else.
On Being Sick
Side Effects of Interferon
Lack of motivation to take care of anything. Uncoordinated. Unable to handle tools, even a knife. My
intelligence has disappeared. Computers mean nothing to me anymore, even though they were almost my
entire life once. Unable to work.
Fatigue. Bones and muscles hurt. Unable to walk any distance. My toes burn.
Cold water touching me sends me into a frenzy. I can’t stand being touched as the pressure hurts and
frightens me.
Just before my diagnosis I had cracked a bone in my foot; after a year that still hurts even though the x-rays
show it is completely healed.
Nausea. Difficult to eat, and not everything stays down. My tongue, mouth and throat burn. Even
cinnamon on my oatmeal burns. My sinuses clogged slightly.
I took pills to counter the side effects of Interferon. But they caused their own problems, and I had to take
stuff to help with those problems. I once cried looking at all the pills. I often had problems swallowing the
pills.
I would get excruciating indigestion pain. The first time that happened I passed out, and my family took
me to the emergency room thinking I may have had a heart attack.
My eyes get these chelaseums (like sties). Once I had to have both eyes operated on in the hospital.
A skin rash from my ankles to my neck.
Half my hair fell out. What remained turned white and lost its waviness.
I Am Not Robert Drabek
I am not Robert Drabek. I am an imposter.
Robert Drabek would read all the time. In contrast, I can’t concentrate long enough to follow more than a
few paragraphs. Robert Drabek served his country in the public schools and in the military. The medical
establishment serves me.
Robert Drabek married an angel who gave him a child, inspiration and courage, and then left him alone
when she saw he was ready and able to take care of himself. Robert Drabek raised that child alone, a child
who any parent would want as their legacy, and Robert Drabek loved him even through those years of
teenage angst. I, on the other hand, take care of no one and am only loved because I am not recognized as
an imposter.
Robert Drabek married another angel many years later who believes she must protect him forever. But I
have captured her and made her my servant and deny her almost all access to Robert.
Robert Drabek as a kid dreamed about not being poor, but settled with being lucky. I’m not really certain
where I came from. Robert Drabek went to school and eventually taught at the university. Robert Drabek
worked and provided. I only lie in bed most of the day taking advantage of others.
Robert Drabek had energy and imagination. He was always exploring, having fun with life. I am too tired
and feel too ill to participate in life.
Robert Drabek never suffered disease. I suffer leukemia. Robert Drabek never needed medicine. I take
pills and injections daily.
I have hidden Robert Drabek, and will only release him when I have my demands met, or else he will die
with me in the struggle. I am the son of Interferon.
From the Shopping Mall
I'm mid-fifties. I'm a bit crazy.
The doctors tell me I may be the youngest to die in my family for the last 100 years. Only my son really
appreciates my crazy jokes.
I did well. My son will do better.
My wife's family lives beyond most expectations. My wife knows I'm a bit crazy--that's why she loves me.
Some friends have died younger than I have. They didn't leave a forwarding address and I've missed them
like crazy.
I want my family and friends to miss me like crazy forever. I will leave a forwarding address.
March 26, 2001 (and marking 54 years!)
Dear Bonnie and Mac
I would like you to continue sending me your summer brochures, even though I don’t know if I’ll ever
paddle again.
After my trip with you, I bought my own canoe (16 foot Penabscot) and joined a couple of local clubs. I
took lessons and got my wife enthused, too. We’ve even done some class-three runs, but we most like the
lazy runs down tree-lined creeks with an occasional little challenge to wake us up.
So why my opening sentence? A week after a pleasant paddle down the Anteitum last summer, my wife
sent me to the doctor for a check up since I was complaining about shortness of breadth and a strange
feeling that something was wrong. That was a Friday, then Sunday morning, feeling secure in my bed
reading the papers, I got a call from my doctor. He started mentioning blood test results, I handed the
phone to my wife, and ran for the bathroom. The next day Yan took me to the oncologist, and he
confirmed I have leukemia (CML).
The researchers haven’t a real cure yet, but this diagnosis is one of those where the pessimists give an
estimate of one to three years and the optimists five to ten. Me, I plan on staying around long enough to
give the scientists time to come up with a real solution to my problem. I go to Johns Hopkins, which is an
hour away from my home, where they are considered one of the top three CML centers in the country. The
chemo is something I have to inject twice a day, and it keeps me wiped out continuously and makes me
sensitive to cold and blows, etc., hence I have this fear of even stepping into cold water to put in. But I still
subscribe to my canoeing magazines and dream about being able to make trips again, so that’s why I still
want to see the brochures.
Sorry about my disturbing news, but think if you hadn’t taken me on that trip a few years ago what I would
have missed. And just maybe I will go with you again, and then I can bore you around the campfire with
all the thoughts I’ve had being this close to the end. Such as it’s better to have some time to ponder your
fate knowing what’s going to happen, contrary to conventional thought that it’s better to suddenly get
wiped out in an accident—you would miss out on all those thoughts. Seriously.
Anyway, I hope things are going super for you two, two people I tell friends about when I need an example
of people who have chosen their own life styles and who appear genuinely happy with those choices.
