Robert Lawrence Dalglish
May 26, 1928 - September 24, 2014
A great spirit has left us, gone ahead to whatever lies beyond. His memory will remain forever with those he touched. And though he may not have changed the world, he affected it in many positive ways. His influence shaped the lense through which I view all things. I'll miss our talks, Dad. Most of all I'll miss your enthusiasm. You had this crazy idea that the world is a wonderful place, full of hope and promise and fun. You loved all the people in your life, especially the children. I hope those of us you leave behind can live up to your legacy. My Tribute Robert L. Dalglish, better known as “Bob,” spent most of his adult life in San Antonio, Texas. However, he embraced his youth where he grew up on the back streets of Pittsburgh, PA in a community known as Fairywood. Grandson of Scottish and German immigrants, he was a high school standout in baseball and swimming. He made many lifelong friends and hardly ever missed a reunion of his beloved Langley High School. He did not graduate with his class, due to World War II service in the U.S. Army, where he continued his success as a left-handed pitcher. He later completed his high school diploma and earned a bachelor’s degree in history from the University of Pittsburgh and a master’s from Trinity University. Bob cherished his family and his 67-year marriage to Alicia (Bolado) Dalglish, who he met in San Antonio. Together they raised five children: James (Jim), Karen (Kassy), Deborah (Debbie), Jean and Robert Jr. (Doug). The family attended Beacon Hill Presbyterian and later Oak Hills Presbyterian churches. Bob’s early career began as a high school baseball coach and history teacher in Mission, TX and then in San Antonio where he taught at Edison High School until he became assistant director of Adult and Continuing Education for the San Antonio Independent School District. He became director when the program moved to San Antonio College. This remarkable program integrated with the City of San Antonio, chambers of commerce and businesses to serve the training and continuing educational needs of thousands of San Antonians. He later served as a senior program developer for the college district until his retirement in 1984. Having retired at the early age of 55, Bob remained active in his home, church and community. He maintained his own lawn and pool until recent years. He travelled often, but preferred to remain in the states. Bowled. And enjoyed teaching Sunday School using research from his own extensive library. Bob was a lover of art, sports and music, having developed a program in art appreciation, followed Pittsburgh Pirates and Steelers, and amassed an impressive music library, which included Big Bands from the 40s, as well as popular and seasonal music from the 30s forward. One of his particular favorites was Louis Armstrong. He was a fan of holidays and any excuse for a family gathering. Whether he was decorating profusely for Halloween or Christmas, preparing a huge feast for Thanksgiving, or waving the flag at a family reunion for the Fourth of July, Bob was always enthusiastic. Though Bob made many friends during his lifetime, most of his close friends passed long before he did. Nonetheless, he is survived by two of his closest friends, Frank Knoerdel of Pittsburgh and Karl Graf of Yakima, WA. He is also survived by two sisters, Jane Pope of Milwakee, WI, and Mariam Parker of Pittsburgh, along with his wife, five children, 34 grandchildren and three great grandchildren of San Antonio and other Texas cities. Frank Knoerdel's Tribute Frank is a lifelong friend, from the Fairwood neighborhood A full-dress Army military salute honored Bob Dalglish at Fort Sam Houston Tuesday morning, September 30, 2014. The former signal corps veteran was being interred among thousands of former military personnel in this venerated resting place in San Antonio, Texas. Tuesday was a typical South Texas warm fall day. No sign of rain, a condition notable for months of prolonged drought. At Fort Sam under a steel canopy set on a square concrete base, twenty-by-twenty feet, rested a gray metal casket. Inside, lay the man Pittsburgh friends called Doug. Here, in Texas, he was Bob, a well known and highly respected businessman, educator, Sunday school teacher, and unbridled home decorator for all holidays: Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Halloween and Christmas. And occasionally, family birthdays. Since February, Bob and Alicia stayed in a nearby assisted living facility. Their residence, oddly enough, was partially caused by Bob’s enduring sports legacy: a Louisville Slugger baseball bat. As a teenager in Pittsburgh, Bob developed into an outstanding sandlot pitcher. He won many games from the pitcher’s mound. But his greater fame came from the batter’s box. No one could match his monster power; teammates liked to recall one ball hit so hard it hasn’t landed yet! It was this skill with his bat that catapulted Bob from his early weeks as an eighteen-year-old Army radio-toting signal corps private into a key player for winning baseball on his Army divisional team. Just six years ago Bob sat in his car in the driveway when he remembered something he needed in the house. Quickly he ran through the garage, picked up the missing item, then touched the garage door button. As the door slowly descended, Bob leaped over the electronic beam crossing the base of the door. He failed to see an old baseball bat lying on the driveway. His broken hip never quite repaired properly. After weeks of therapy, complications mounted. Including, more recently, a fall with a possible concussion. That fall affected his mobility and frequently left him disoriented. Time gave him only occasional temporary relief. Bob struggled, knowing something was seriously wrong, but his injured mind couldn’t reach into the problem. To his irritation, this proud, energetic man could not come back to his former alertness. He fought his frustrations. Neither doctors, nor medicines nor rest offered improvement. For the past seven months Bob’s health steadily deteriorated. His stroke-like symptoms struck, and abated for periods of clear lucidness. He lost mobility. Eventually Bob only moved by wheelchair. Throughout it all he insisted on seeing Alicia at his side. And, as she had been through 67 years of marriage, she was there until the end. The entire family of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, uncles and aunts gathered around the cemetery pavillion. Most were silent or spoke in whispers. The loudest sounds came from Jimbo’s granddaughter Lark skittering about, teasing mourners. But nobody teased back. Usually when big people came together, everybody had fun; they’d laugh and make her laugh, particularly great-grandpa Bob. Today, only Daddy Jamie, picked her up, held her a moment, then sat her down as he moved back into the crowd. Rev. Katheryn Barlow-Williams, pastor at Oak Hills Presbyterian Church spoke confidently that Bob was worthy to be in God’s Heaven. He earned entry due to his high standards as a loving and conscientious parent, exemplarily church leadership and lifelong contributions to the Greater San Antonio Community. None here needed this assessment. Each observer knew, loved and had often been touched by this man. They had little doubt that Bob’s spirit already held a place of honor in the Lord’s mansion, as believed so many friends outside this gathering. Later, at dinner that evening, son-in-law Russell Seal revealed that he recently checked the archives at the San Antonio Express-News. He found over 150 notations featuring the name of Robert L. Dalglish, most as a benefactor to the community. A huge American flag lay across Bob’s gunmetal gray casket protecting its contents. Each corner of the casket housed a metallic metal miniature of Michaelangelo’s “Pieta”, while three replicas of Di Vinci’s “Last Supper” stood in bas relief on the side facing Alicia. Judged legally blind, Alicia only knew of the fine ornamentation as described by son Jim when the two were choosing her husband’s permanent home. Standing among the rows of crosses in the distance, white-shirted veterans fired a Three-Volley Salute to their comrade. The slow, deliberate bugle wail of “Taps” made ultimate proof that Bob was no longer with us. Two color guards in dress uniform marched to the casket and carefully removed the American flag. With military prescission, like stiff-bodied robots they carefully folded the flag into a triangular package. The attending sergeant knelt down in front of Alicia and extended the flag. He carefully inserted three spent cartridges into the fold and softly explained that these three shells represented the core values for all veterans: Duty, Honor and Country. Strangely enough, Bob’s ceremony may not have been possible except for the influence of two men: One a negative influence. One positive. Responsible for a growing family during The Great Depression of the 1930s, ”Big Jim” Dalglish, Bob’s father, knew he could not properly support eight children. As quickly as each completed high school, he asked them to leave home and start building their lives. At that time the common retort was: “One less mouth to feed”. First-born Eddie received his high school diploma and moved out. Walter was ushered out at eighteen. Dot married as did Jane. It was wartime when John graduated; his new home became the U.S. Army. Miriam joined the U.S. Navy. Pearl married. Bob, the youngest and still in high school, knew his future would be dictated by any skills he developed on his own. This was a frightening prospect for a youngster whose strength was not academic but far more attuned to competitive swimming, baseball and football. Living in the same neighborhood was Karl Graf, Senior, a Penn State University alumnus with a degree in agriculture. Karl graduated during The Depression and couldn’t find work in his field. But he married and was soon supporting a wife and two children. Eventually four children. Karl learned to paint and began painting houses. He succeeded enough to buy several homes in the neighborhood and made them rental properties. Bob turned 18 in May 1945. That summer Bob’s baseball team the Harris All Stars won the championship of Pittsburgh’s sandlot league. Then in September Bob began his senior year at Langley High School. At long last it was time to actually live all those dreams nurtured for so many years. He’d served his three-year apprenticeship at Langley. Now, as a Senior he pictured himself as sprint leader of Langley’s swim team, the school’s star baseball pitcher in next spring’s City League competition. And, above all, that fall, he saw himself scoring game-winning touchdowns on Fairywood’s sandlot football team. Bob’s friend, Frank Knoerdel, graduated from Langley in June. Just as Bob was aware his parents did not have money for his college, Frank knew his parents had the same limitations. He also learned that serving two years in the U.S. Navy qualified him for the G.I. Bill, which included four years of college. Easy decision. Frank started basic training in July. September he returned home on a short leave. Bob and Frank talked about “tomorrow”. Life contains many milestones - this was monumental for Bob. One huge drawback: Bob loved Langley High School. Finally, at long last, he had started his Senior year. This positively was the singular opportunity to cash in on all the prestige and perks this ultimate, upper-class year could offer. Poised to tip the balance was Karl Graf, Senior. Karl lived on the next street in the neighborhood. Unlike Jim Dalglish, whose focus was providing for his large family, Karl carried a broader viewpoint. In addition, he possessed a remarkable quality of patience. He willingly made time to listen to and respond knowledgeably to questions in young minds. Karl understood the value of education. He knew family responsibility. Most important, as he tracked all sides of the conditions, he was keenly aware that the G.I. Bill with its many benefits, would expire at the end of the year. Deep into the evening the three friends talked. Early next morning Bob raised his right hand at the Pittsburgh recruiting station and committed to the U.S. Army. With his early release in May 1948, Bob returned to Pittsburgh and began studying for a high school equivalent General Education Diploma. By fall he was attending Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas. Why Trinity in Texas? One of Bob’s many personality strong points was his penchant for making new friends. An especially good friendship developed in the army between Bob and Homero Bolado. Homero had a sister Alicia in San Antonio. At that time this beautiful young lady was unattached. After his first introduction, Bob took note that Alicia was remarkably different from any other girl he had ever known and he determined that Alicia should not remain alone. Within a few months they were married. Thus began a 67-year romance that resulted in five children: Jim, Kassy, Debbie, Jean and Doug. A supportive wife and solid family base gave Bob the foundation for a career that included a B.A. and M.A. from Trinity University, plus a second M.A. from the University of Pittsburgh. In addition, through his plethora of activities, Bob earned numerous honorary doctorate degrees. But for his first position upon graduating from Trinity, Bob taught History at Edison High School. While at Edison he took on the role of head baseball coach, and marched his team to the San Antonio City Championship. From exchanges with students and from contacts within the community, Bob recognized that many adults did not have sustainable income producing skills. Soon Bob left Edison to became Director of Vocational Education at Fox Tech. Later he become Director of Adult and Continuing Education at San Antonio College. This is where Bob truly hit his stride - he became their main salesman. He called on local businesses, asked what kinds of help they needed, then he helped create classes to train cashiers, stenographers, clerks, real estate personnel, bank tellers and many other required positions. The Adult and Continuing Education Program saved organizations the high cost of training new employees. More significantly, for thousands of the unemployed and under-employed, these training classes provided the opportunity to return to work and generate steady incomes that assured better lives for their families. For years, numerous area business executives would credit their continuing education experiences for being instrumental in directing their own successful careers. It wasn’t long before Bob took the Program from the smallest department at the college into the largest, eventually expanding it to encompass the entire Alamo Community College District. Bob also was part of bringing Hemisfair to San Antonio, working on the "Ask Me About San Antonio" project. Yet despite all these demanding activities, Bob made time to log sixty years as a Sunday School teacher, and assume the responsibility of an ordained elder in the Presbyterian Church. A man committed to the well-being of his family. A man who passionately believed in the dignity of the human spirit. A man who generously shared his love and compassion with whomever he met. Here, on September 30, 2014, at age 86, Robert Lawrence Dalglish was memorialized with a Celebration of His Life and honored with a final resting place among the thousands of heroes at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas. (A minor edit: Mom insists that Dad never coached at Edison. His first job out of college was as baseball coach for Mission High School, and it was there that his team won the championship for the entire Rio Grande Valley. At Edison, he just taught history, according to Mom.) November 5, 2014 Funny how little things pop up to remind you of loved ones who have passed. I was digging around looking for something today and found three checks from my Dad. Dad was big on paying people. If an electrician handed him a bill for $150, he gave the guy $200. I don't know why he did that but I will say people were always eager to come back and work for him. In my case, he was always wanting to repay me for something... If I picked up a check at a restaurant or if I did some task for him at his house... He would always offer to repay or pay me. And I would always decline. But then days later I would get a check from him in the mail with a little thank-you note. I never cashed those checks. But apparently I didn't throw them away either and today I'm looking at three checks written to me in my father's handwriting with little notes on them. And, with tears in my eyes, I'm thinking how much more valuable those little pieces of paper are to me than the cash value on those checks could ever be. |