Bob Farrell

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Remembrance photo

Robert T Farrell
18 Aug 1945 - 16 Jan 1988

Clubs & Associations

BOQ
Puddletown Dancers

Obituary

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON/MADISON — Robert T. Farrell, age 42, died on Saturday, January 16, 1988, in Seattle, Washington. He was born on August 18, 1945, in Madison. He was Chief Legal Counsel of the Washington Bar Association. Mr. Farrell was graduated from West High School and was also a graduate of Yale University. During his time at Yale, he was a Whiffenpoof. He also went on a summer tour of the world with the Yale Glee Club. After graduating from Yale, Mr. Farrell went to Japan on a fellowship for two years with the International Christian University. He also attended the University of Washington Law School from which he graduated. Surviving are his mother, Mrs. Carl (Betty) Farrell of 3202 Stevens St.; two sisters, Mary Gordon Hopgood of Madison, and Jane F. Cohen of Milwaukee; and nieces and nephews. A friend of Mr. Farrell's will hold a memorial service at a later time.[1]

Remembrance

A Personal Portrait: My Brother Robert T. Farrell
by Mary Gordon

The Northwest AIDS Foundation received a private donation of $153,000 to create the Robert T. Farrell and Craig Gauthier Help Fund. Robert T. Farrell, who died of AIDS on January 16, 1988, and his lover, Craig Gauthier, created this fund to express their gratitude for all the help and support they received and in hope that others will see the need for direct support to people living with this terrible disease. The goal of the fund is to assist and lighten the financial burdens of people living with AIDS. The Help Fund is administered by Northwest AIDS Foundation, 1818 East Madison Street, Seattle, WA 98122, 206-329-6923.

What kind of man would give this type of help to others in a time when so much misunderstanding and fear surround AIDS? The story of this giving man is of an intelligent, kind person who loved his friends and family. It is told by two people who were close to him throughout his life: his sister and Craig, his lover.

Bob Farrell, my brother, had a million interests. Born on August 18, 1945, in Madison, Wisconsin, he sang before he could talk. As a child, he took German classes and collected everything: nests, bird eggs, stuffed animals, plastic models, accessories for his Lionel trains, stamps, coins, rocks, butterflies, and wild pets.

Growing up in the ‘50s, Bob wore the regulation Hop-a-long Cassidy sweater, Davy Crockett coonskin hat and little wire rimmed glasses. Bob knew he was different, his precocious tastes and dry sense of humor opened many avenues as he grew. Intelligence and creativity were his forte. He loved to poke around estate sales and second-hand shops and made deals decades before the invention of the garage sale.

Bob had a “one-track” mind, always focused on the next project. He needed challenges and recognition and was often discontented or restless. He won trophies in speaking contests and played the violin throughout his life. Although he and his violin instructor often disagreed about substituting bravado for technique, Bob knew when he had met his match. As a child, reminding himself to strive for the best, he would write in his assignment books, “Don’t Fake!” He always kept that in mind, no matter what he was doing, trying for the best, never faking it.

During the ‘50s, at least in our old neighborhood of university professors, it seemed as though nothing much happened. However, things were quite lively at our house. Bob’s raccoon escaped and had to be rescued from university buildings or the zoo. The wild ring-tailed cat, which had arrived in a crate from the Southwest got loose in the house and ran through the walls at night. It had disappeared for a year before we saw its picture in the paper. “Groundskeeper at Wisconsin State capital had been surprised to find a wild cat living a squirrel box.” Most of our friends were musicians. We planned a New Year’s Eve musicale and dinner for a dozen friends and Bob cooked Greek food — Chicken-Lemon Soup and a dish with ground Lamb. Later, that evening, we corralled a couple of friends and played string quartets on the Capitol steps.

Bob tried out new identities on the stage at school, performing believable and affecting roles as Creon, the rigid king in Antigone, and as Jack Point (though he had to sing this role with a raging strep infection), the jester, an outsider with an ironic view of life, in Yeoman of the Guard. Stiff and haughty, yet still somehow whimsical in white tie and tails, he was the perfect Mr. Kirby in You Can’t Take It With You.

In order to earn the credits he needed to graduate from High School a year early, Bob took a correspondence course in Italian. In college, after one year at Georgetown University in Washington, DC, and then for four years at Yale, the world opened up. The Georgetown Glee Club directed by Paul Hume, Music Critic for The Washington Post, toured the country. The Yale Glee Club went around the world, and Bob fell in love in Japan. Back at Yale, he began to study Asian languages. One of his dreams at Yale was to be part of one of its most famous traditions, the Whiffenpoofs. Having served his apprenticeship in a singing group called the Alley Cats, he was tapped one Spring evening to be a Whiff — a night of glorious celebrating, most of which he didn’t remember.

Bob became an attorney and began his law career working with men in the State prison at Walla Walla and then became General Counsel for the Washington State Bar Association. He continued to pursue other interests. Coming out at about age 30, was a liberating step toward deciding who he was. He found a home for his voice with the Seattle Men’s Chorus. The Christmas Eve concerts were a highlight of his year, even after he left the chorus. He attended his last one just a couple of weeks before his death.

Bob and Craig had a love for animals. Bob had many pets: a raccoon, the escape artist; a wall running ring-tail cat, Jackson; Bob’s first large pound puppy, Spanx; the second medium pound puppy, Omar; a talkative, stubborn double yellow-head Amazon parrot, Miss Louis; a large Moluccan Cockatoo, Charlie Bird; a white-eyed green Conure, Turkey; a cherry-head Conure; and a large number of marine fish and assorted wildlife.

Bob’s final project, was a salt water tropical fish and supply business run in the basement of the home he shared with Craig. It was a new challenge; could he start a business? When the commercial pet stores tried to worry this small business, they discovered they were dealing with a lawyer who had faced greater challenges in his career. Craig was the infantry and supply corps in Bob’s army. It turned out that Craig, like Bob, could do just about anything that he set his mind to.

The lifeline of the fish business was the monthly newsletter and price list, produced on Bob’s computer. The newsletter was full of Bob’s whimsy. He liked to write since high school and had edited The Spider Web, the library magazine of Johnathan Edwards College at Yale. Throughout the newsletters we found articles on Bob and Craig’s winter vacations to Hawaii and Mexico, detailing what they had brought back, and if it was likely to survive.

Bob also used his computer to catalogue his collection of Seattle Trade Tokens (the largest in existence), Chinese coin collection dating from 5000 BC to the present. He also used the computer during his last months in and out of the hospital to design a record keeping project for the Chicken Soup Brigade.

Bob’s life had come together. Many of his old frustrations were gone. Childhood fantasies were fulfilled; he had a home filled with art and interesting creatures, and a loving partner who helped to build and maintain it all. From his demanding job with the Bar Association he came home to the challenge of designing a mini-reef: a 100 gallon tank with salt water fish, invertebrates, living corals, and rare sea anemones, in a setting so natural “you might not see some of the fish for days.” Just a month before his death, the mini-reef won first prize in a competition of the Seattle Aquarium Society. “It was the most beautiful fish tank in the Northwest!”

The last four years of his life, shared with his lover, Craig Gauthier, brought many things in his life to fruition. Though AIDS bound him, caused him pain and ultimately killed him at age 42, it did not destroy him before he accomplished nearly everything he wanted to. By the grace of Craig, he died at home, lovingly cared for, surrounded by his collections and animals. He was able to leave behind a substantial gift: $153,000 donated to create the Robert T. Farrell and Craig Gauthier Help Fund, administered by the Northwest AIDS Foundation, to provide help with expenses for others whose lives are disrupted and shortened by AIDS.

Bob wanted a party for his family and friends instead of a funeral for himself. Craig arranged the festivity, which was beautifully catered by Patrick Fitzgerald. Piles of fresh Alaskan King Crab Legs, fresh Prawns, New Zealand Baby Lamb Chops, Pate, fresh fruit flown in from Mexico, and Chocolate Truffles. Bob’s friends were at the party, members of the Washington State Bar Association, the neighborhood, bird and fish people, musicians, and square dancers. All had a memorable evening.

Craig searched Chinatown for an urn for Bob’s ashes, and what he found is beautiful. Two large fish, enameled in gold and shades of blue. Since Bob’s death, Craig has cared for the whole menagerie and museum. He has worked tirelessly to untangle the legal and financial details of Bob’s estate, and has had to do his own grieving. We feel unlimited gratitude toward Craig for his selflessness. How did my brother luck out and find such a person?

What didn’t Bob do? Well, he almost learned to fly, taking lessons and getting close to the point of soloing before he decided not to commit more time and money to it. He took a practice parachute jump. And he and Craig did not get to go on their dream trip to the Great Barrier Reef. I’m sure by this time, Bob’s spirit has learned to get around very well, and I hope he is exploring event more fantastic places right now.

A Heartfelt Thank You from Craig Gauthier

As Bob’s lover for over four years, I would like to take the opportunity to close this article with a few words about love and gratitude. Bob was my first lover and he showed me many new things in life and love that I never knew, as I did with him. Together, in our understanding of one another, love had grown very strong, and our respect for each other’s personalities and needs, “mind, body and soul” never became cluttered with anger, jealousy, or greed. Although we had disagreements/discussions from time to time, patience and a sincere, “I’m sorry,” always took care of the politics of these things. Many of the qualities that Bob had, brilliance, talent, and knowledge, I desired for myself, while he felt the same way concerning the qualities he saw in me. It was as if these qualities in each other were a puzzle, and over the years the pieces were slowly and carefully put together to make one whole. But like so many of us, that can related, the last part was missing. The last piece of the puzzle represented a cure for AIDS, which he and I had searched for in so many painful and agonizing ways. His health, with as much energy and money that we had put into fighting this tragedy, unfortunately never got better. As our time together grew shorter, our fear of losing each other grew stronger. The only problem with having the type of love that we had was losing it. However, together we were able to maintain some sort of normality of our daily routines, even during the hospital visits, he dreaded. I would cheer him up by cooking his meals at home, and serve them in the hospital at his bedside. His favorite was lamb chops with green tomato chutney. Even though these little things would cheer us up, we were starting to feel the most painful losses, losses we both knew would be inevitable. My best friend died in my arms, at home, the morning of January 16, 1988, in the state of mind that seemed very peaceful. It was his time. What Bob had left behind was wonderful. The people whose lives he had touched will always remember him for the warm, loving, honest, giving, and intelligent man he was and always will be.

In closing, I would like to say that it has been an honor and privilege to be able to create the Robert T. Farrell and Craig Gauthier Help Fund. The Help Fund is helping many AIDS patients in the Greater Seattle area with financial burdens, in many cases within a day. Again, I would like to express the need for direct aid to these patients. Whether the donation is large or small, every penny counts when dealing with this crisis of phenomenal medical and personal expenses. Maybe one day, through community effort, contributions, and efforts toward a cure, we can see an end to this puzzling disease we are only now learning to live with – AIDS.

Bob Farrell and Craig Gauthier would like to express their gratitude to all people involved, and especially to the following for their help, love, friendship, and support. Northwest AIDS Foundation, Mary Gordon, Sara Gordon, Patrick Fitzgerald, Dr. Bill Miller, Colette Wold, Lydia Gold, Paul Creaseman, Agnes Smith, Danny Steward, Betty Farrell, Tom Hopgood, Bob Welden, Caroline Davis, Dr. Jeff Olliffe, Jerry Peterson, Jon Silva, Doug McPherson, and Bob Wagner.[2]

Memorial Panel

Photos


Sources

  1. Wisconsin State Journal (Madison, WI) Thursday, 21 Jan 1988, section 4, p.4
  2. Seattle Gay News (Seattle, WA) Friday, 14 Apr 1989, p.8