Why did he leave? I don't know. I was only eight years old when he left. That was twenty years ago. He seem to have everything going for himself. I wish I could see him again. He had a way of making you smile, tickling your funny bones, and making you forget all about your troubles. That's the way Bobby was. He never talked about his hurts and pains. Bobby was always trying to make others feel good. He was gentle, kind, and giving, even serving for his country, our country.
I don't believe the stories and fables about Bobby. Some say he was a modern day Robin Hood or a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. All I know there were stories, many of them. But the Bobby I know was just a common man, laid back, sipping hot coffee and smoking cigarettes without the filter. He dressed kind of scruffy, wore an old faded beret and had an unkept beard. Oh yes, and he talked to himself. Bobby wanted to make the world a better place to live. And he wanted peace and happiness for everybody. He wrote it all down in journals, his poetry and his feelings. His brother, the last of his family, passed away last year. But Bobby has a host of friends and admirers. If he is still out there somewhere, I wish he would come home. He can always come home.
I consider myself kin to Bobby. I know, I'm not his blood kin, but I'm close to it. I am only his god-daughter and I miss him. Does anybody know where Bobby Sweet is?
TO BE CONTINUED... Copyright © 2005-2007 by Pier Tyler. All Rights Reserved.
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