Robert Ross

Life Story written by Robert W. Ross, Bob's oldest son:

On September 14, 1934, Sarah and Albert were married in Phillipsburg, Missouri. According to registration records, Grandpa Ross registered for World War II in 1940 and worked in Kansas City where they produced the B-52 bombers used by the US Military during WWII. This is where our family story begins.

Robert Louis Ross was born October 22, 1942, to Sarah and Albert. Dad would be counted as the fourth child in the family adding to his 3 older sisters, Ottilla, Roberta (Bert), and Pat. The family lived in Kansas City Kansas for a short time before moving to a small 160-acre farm just outside of Tonganoxie, Kansas. A few years later their younger brother Richard (Dick) would soon join them.

With Grandpa in the Army, it was up to Grandma Sarah to run the farm and take care of the family. Dad recalls that his dad would give him a big nail and a hammer and dad would drive the nail into the ground. Grandpa would pull the nail back out and dad would drive it back in again. Back then, Grandpa thought it would be a good idea to be able to sell milk in the area, so he took the seat out of the back of his black Chevrolet car and drove to Wisconsin and bought 2 baby calves. He brought them back home and with them started his own Dairy herd.

On the property there was an old hay barn that was about to fall down, Grandpa took the native stone from it and soon constructed a nice dairy barn with a milk cooling room. Grandma would make homemade bread, and, in the evening, Grandpa would have some of it with the fresh milk he had collected. Dad would sometimes bake a chocolate cake or someone else would bake a cake and everyone would enjoy that with the fresh milk.

I recently visited the old farm just this past year shortly after dad had been there visiting earlier with my brother Trebor and Elizabeth. It was Mother’s Day, and I was nervous when driving up the long driveway. I stopped my truck and opened the door. The family living there were all out front having a Mother’s Day celebration get together. A man met me in the yard. I told him who I was, and he remembered dad coming to see him earlier in the year. “Oh yeah, I remember your dad…we enjoyed him coming by…would you like to take a look around?” I told him I didn’t know much about the place, and it wasn’t long before he was telling me about all of the things dad had been sharing with him. He took me back to where the old hay barn was, and the only thing left was a small hill and some posts still standing up-right. He showed me the milk barn and said that he too had used the milk barn with his own dairy cows for a time. I asked to see the cement windowsill where Grandpa and Grandma had written their initials…and right there in the cement, it reads SMR for Sarah Mae, RAR for Robert Albert, VLS (unknown) with a date 9-11-50. It was like I was discovering a part of our family’s history for the first time as I don’t ever recall dad ever showing this to me. After talking for a minute or two, the gentleman encouraged me to return and to bring dad again. It is hard to explain how I felt, and I was anxious to talk to dad about it and let him know…and I did. I loved hearing about when he was a kid.

Shortly after hearing dad had passed away, we made our way out to his most recent home to check on things. While we were collecting dads’ things, we found a recording of him telling in his own words the following:

“We lived about a mile from the school that we went to…and most of the kids would walk over there…and since I was kind of a cripple, dad let me drive the tractor over there and back at night.” “One night we were coming home, and the neighbor boy was with me. We were riding along together…and he wanted me to let him drive.” “Anyway, there was a big steep hill there and as we were going down that big steep hill…we were almost to the bottom…and he was driving.” “The neighbor boy said…oh that wasn’t really that much fun…and then kicked the tractor out of gear and we started coasting…and the wheel started whipping back and forth…and I was standing on the draw bar…the next thing I know I was laying on the ground and having been thrown from tractor...but not before the wheel had my leg all tore up.” “The neighbor boy got off the tractor and he was scared man…you know…and I would guess I was in shock because I didn’t even know what was going on…but I didn’t feel it and uh…so anyway he got me up on the tractor and back to the house.” “I don’t remember how we got hold of dad or when or how I got to the hospital, but my leg was all messed up. It didn’t hurt the bone or anything…it just tore the flesh all up…anyway…I didn’t get a whipping or anything, but I got a good going over about it by my dad.”

“They sewed me back together as best they could and cleaned it up you know…and it did heal up, but it actually got an awful scar…that I’ve had all my life…and it was like that. My leg had had surgery on it two or three times before this when they were trying to straighten the bone in that leg.” “It has been crooked all my life…until I had enough to retire and then had help from Medicare to help fix it.”

I worked alongside my dad since I was a little boy. I remember mom telling me the story about dads’ legs and how they had tried to straighten them because they were so bowed you could fit a basketball between his knees. He walked a bit funny because of the surgeries that left one leg shorter than the other, but he never complained about it.

I remember when he had surgery to lengthen it after he retired. For the first time in my life, I saw him walk without a sort of waddle and I could see how tall and straight he was. I loved seeing him walk around and knew he enjoyed being able to have that done.

For reasons, I do not know, the farm was sold, and the family moved. Dad never said much about what happened…even in his own words he said there are things he probably won’t write or share just because they are too private, and he would rather keep those to himself. He said he is just an ordinary man and wasn’t ashamed or anything…it’s just that he isn’t the same as he once was.

When dad turned 16, he left home. You can see his High School photo in the Bakersfield High School Yearbook. He attended school until the 10th grade. He moved up back to the Kansas City Area and lived with his sister Bert in Atchison Kansas. He worked as a farm hand for a little bit and a Carpenter. A few years later he would meet Beverly…my mom.

I’ve heard this story from both my mom and my dad…I think you’ll find it enjoyable. Dad said, he was out having some fun playing dominos and a bit later that evening went to the Leavenworth County Fair. He said, “Beverly was there, and I saw her walking around.” “She was wearing new shorts that were right at knee level and a white blouse…she was very appealing to me, and I loved just seeing her as she walked around. I remember seeing Jim Ramsey. Jim and I had worked together on the Ramsey Farm, so I sort of knew him. I asked him if he knew the girl in the shorts and white blouse…he said her name was Beverly and that he would introduce him to her…so Jim took me over to Beverly and said, “Bob, this is Beverly…Beverly, this is Bob.” Jim then turned to me and said, "You’re on your own!” and left. One of mom’s sisters had just gotten married and had a flat tire…dad helped get mom home that night.”

I wasn’t long before Beverly and Bob began spending more time together. He would ask her to marry him, and she would tell him he would need to ask her dad first.

The following is from my mom’s eulogy which I wrote when she passed away in January 2001. It reads, “Bob Ross was a good-looking young man. He was handsome and very determined to find his way in the world and one night he found himself at the county fair where he met Beverly. She was a bit shy and when he asked if he could take her home, she said, “Only if my brother Don can go too.” She would later tell her children how awkward it was getting taken home that night and how sorry she felt for dad. Dad has a very gentle, quiet side and it was difficult for him to work up the courage he needed to go see Mom that night. Dad passed by the house in a very nice car, not once but several times. Mom was worried he would never stop and come up to the house. When he did finally stop, mom ran out the back of the house and tried hiding in the outhouse. Dad met Grandpa and came into the house. Mom soon came back in too. Grandpa recalls the conversation as, “So, you want to go with my daughter?” And dad said, “Yes.” In a letter to my wife, Jane, dated March 24, 1985, she writes:

“Dear Jane, I am so glad Rob has met you and I understand the feelings you felt about knowing you were going to marry him before you even met him. It’s the same feeling I got when I met Bob. We dated 3 months and got married. We’ve been married for 22 1/2 years. He had to ask my mom and dad if he could marry me. Bob is really shy and never did talk much so it was really hard for him to ask. When he finally got up the nerve to talk to my dad, dad asked him, “What are you thinking about Bob?” Bob said, “Getting married.” Dad said, “ Who are you going to marry?” Bob said, “Beverly.” Dad asked him if he was able to support a family. Bob said, “I’m not marrying the whole family.” Dad said one and one makes two then three and so on. Little did we know it would add up to six.”

On November 30, 1962, Beverly and Bob were married and their life together began. Mom and dad have 6 children…they came in 2 sets: 12 years apart. The first are JoAnn, Rob (me), and Gary. The second set are Shannon, David, and Trebor. You can see dad’s sense of humor in how he named Trebor…Trebor is Robert spelled backwards.

Mom and dad were married 38 years before she passed away. It was difficult for him, and he missed mom’s companionship very much.

He would soon meet the second love of his life when he found Marylou. They met at Church and started writing letters to one another. It was a short courtship, and you could tell dad was very happy to have found Marylou. The letters were very sweet between them and as their relationship grew, dad shared a few of her letters with me. I remember reading how she felt about him and could see his love for her was growing.

Marylou and dad were married June 13, 2001, and began a wonderful life together. Marylou was also the love of dad’s life. He cherished his time with her. They spent their time just enjoying each other while working on homes which they would buy and sell as their time permitted. They cared for each other for the next 21 years and built a life of which they were both very happy.

Marylou passed away in March 2022 and left Bob very heart broken. Not wishing to be alone, and continuing as himself, he found a very wonderful woman named Martha for which to spend his free time. They were more than just friends and quicky found ways to spend time together as they enjoyed each other’s company. Dad would say that Martha is more than a friend. Our family recognizes Martha as a very special love in dad’s life…sometimes life is much too short for all the things we wish we could do. We love you too Martha…

It wouldn’t be right to not tell Dad’s AA Story or share how gained he a Testimony of the Gospel he loved and becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. For those in the A.A. community, my family will forever be grateful to you all. Shortly before he passed away, we asked Dad to write down his story for us…the following is Dad’s story:

"My name is Bob R…and I am an alcoholic. I had began drinking not much, but I had left home when I was 16. Caught a ride to KC and found my sister’s place. I stayed with them a while. One weekend their family and a friend of the family would get together and play cards. They also had booze. I had a glass of pop, but my brother-in-law thought it would be fun to spike it, not knowing how it would affect me. And being the good alcoholic that I was, I thought it would be fun to drink it, but I soon found out it was not fun. When I had to open the car window and puke on his car, he may not have thought it was fun either.

"When I was 18, I decided to enlist in the army, so I rode a bus to Leavenworth, KS to Kansas City, MO to the train station. That’s where they gave you a physical. I was told to strip naked along with a bunch of other men. Needless to say, Uncle Sam didn’t want me because of my leg. So, they sent me home and the others to boot camp."

He soon met mom and they were married…the story continues…

"We became a family of 5, 1 girl and 2 boys and I began to drink hard liquor.

"I never did figure out why, but I began to drink more. I worked construction and was doing quite well. When it rained, that was our day at the bar. One day someone called me to the phone. Who knew I was there? I took the call and don’t remember what it was for. What I later found out was the boss’s wife tracked me down. She later told me that when it rained all she had to do was look in the local bars for the crew.

"Those were the days when I would leave my sweet young wife and drink beer, then vodka, Schnapps, brandy. It wasn’t important as long as it was alcohol. Those were the days that I now know and realize…were when I surely did let her down. I have a picture of her and our first two kids above my desk at home. She was a beautiful young woman. I now know all the good times I threw away for booze. Maybe God wanted me to write this down and share it with you to help me understand what was not right in my life. As I reflect back, I can see and understand the grief I must have caused her…but she stayed with me and wouldn’t give up. We had another son before I quit drinking.

"My last drunk I remember well; God willing I will never forget. She had left because she didn’t want to see me killing myself with booze. It is amazing how God puts this all together to save an alcoholic. I have said many times that God watches over fools and alcoholics, and I was both.

"This is how it happened. She returned to see if I was still alive. I had sobered up enough that she asked if I wanted some help. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to say yes. She hauled me up to Valley Hope in Atchison, KS. I remember the last bottle of vodka as she drove. I passed out on the ride. When we got there, we went in, and I talked to others in treatment. After a while I thought, “Maybe we should leave.” But she had already taken the car and left. Now I was on foot. It was in the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to walk 60-some miles home, so I decided I would wait until morning.

"That was Oct 22, 1976, my first day not drinking. I stayed for the 30-day program. 2 weeks into it I got to go home 1 day and 1 night. I got my truck and went back for 2 more weeks. When I went home, the first big decision – to drink again, or not to drink? I thank God I made the right decision and didn’t drink any alcohol. Not then, or now."

This is not where the story ends, but it just begins. A sober man and a loving wife, and here came an instant replay. 1 girl, 2 boys.

"Beverly, I love you with all my heart. It wasn’t easy, but one day at a time, God kept me sober. Beverly died in 2001, and then I was alone. Just a single man again. After some 34 years and a lifetime, however some 4 months later another love found me – Marylou. She put joy back into my life for some 21 years. Then the Lord called her home. Those were wonderful years together.

"By the Grace of God and this program of AA, I am sober today. This is a very small piece of my life and I thank you for letting me share it with you. I understand God wanted me to see it from this side, after I wrote it down."

Dad would always remind me about the Serenity Prayer and to ask God to PLEASE grant me serenity when he taught me about it. He carried his AA books with him everywhere and he shared his experience with many Alcoholics. In the dash of his truck right by the speedometer, he kept a small card. On it, it said, “I am responsible…When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, I want the hand of A.A. to be there. And for that: I am responsible.

Dad took that responsibility to heart. Inside his little book of Twelve Traditions dated October 27, 1976, he wrote, “Try to do my everyday responsibilities and work to the best of my ability. And when things don’t go the way, I thought they should go, to accept these things as Gods will for me. Try to help others and be kind and loving to myself and to others.”

The people of AA were key in helping him find God and helped him see that God, (as he understood him), wanted him to be sober. Again, for that our family will eternally be grateful. A few years following this, we were introduced to The Church of Jesus Chris of Latter-Day Saints.

Within our family history there is a story about how our family joined the Church. I wrote it down several years ago and while serving a Mission, I would often share it with others as I taught the Gospel. Today dad has a granddaughter serving a Mission in the same area where Jane and I served. Utah of all places.

The story talks about how Aunt Bonnie took us to a Church Pageant over in Independence Missouri. I still remember when the hill side lit up showing the Mormon Pioneers crossing the plains on their way west.

Towards the end of the Pageant, someone who had been very sick would die and it was very sad. Then all at once the whole hillside would be lit up and there were several hundreds of people…all dressed in white coming down to meet the one who had just passed away. The message was, “Families are Forever.”

JoAnn had put our name on a little card asking for more information as none of us were members of the Church. A few weeks later two young men came to our door and asked for JoAnn. Dad answered the door. Then he yells to my mom, “Beverly, there’s two young men here to see JoAnn…do you want to come out here and see what they want? JoAnn was his oldest daughter and I guess 2 men coming to see her was a little concerning to him, but he didn’t know what to do. Mom came and invited them in. It wasn’t very long until they began to teach mom and us 3 kids. We would learn about Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery and about the Savior Jesus Christ. Dad didn’t attend those meetings but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hear what was being taught. Mom was pregnant with my little Sister Shannon at the time as it was Summer in 1979. Mom and us children would soon join the Church and become Latter-Day Saints.

Several years later, I wanted to serve a Mission and really tried to teach my dad. I thought he would enjoy the same Spirit I did and wanted to share it with him…mom tried; missionaries tried…we all did but dad didn’t want to join the Church.

I asked my Bishop if dad would always need A.A…why couldn’t he just join the Church and be with us. The answer I received was hard to hear. He said, “Your dad will always need AA. He needs it in ways we may not understand. It helps him more than you may know.”

If you were to ask me when the Lord helped bring us into the Church, I would have quickly told you it was the day the missionaries came to our house. Today, I realize it started with the day dad was taken to Valley Hope.

Dad did join the Church a few years after I returned from my mission in 1986. I received a call from him…funny it was a call as I saw him every day at work…but he wanted to ask me if I would baptize him. I was so proud of him for asking me to do that for him…and I loved him for it. In my Patriarchal Blessing given to me years before, it reads, “And I bless you to touch the lives of those around you…and that particularly of your father…” It continues to share blessings that would be given if I would be faithful in all my covenants and promises that I made.

I never knew dad’s testimony story very well. I kept telling him to pray about the things he would learn from the Elders. I told him the Holy Ghost would tell him these things were true…and he would feel a burning in his bosom. Sometimes it was so frustrating that he was having such a hard time. It wasn’t until years later when mom had died that he shared this with me.

“Rob, I never felt the burning you guys felt. I never could. I enjoyed what I learned but I could only feel good. I was like I had done a good day’s work, and I was content with what I had done…you know…but I never had a burning. One day, not long before you baptized me, I had been praying for a long time over several days. I would go downstairs and after putting wood in the furnace, would kneel down and ask God to help me feel the burning…I never felt it. This went on for quite some time and one night, I began to realize that maybe drinking had somehow shut that part of me off and I was going to have to accept that I would never experience the burning you always talked about. I put the last few pieces of wood on the fire, and I stoked it a bit while I thought about that…I was trying to accept that I would not receive a burning, but I still wanted to be baptized. I knelt down one more time. I thanked God for my sobriety and for Beverly and you kids…I then began to express my feelings about how I was feeling and then finally…I let God know that I was okay to not have the burning in my bosom. I let him know I wanted to be baptized and just wanted to ask him it that was okay with him.”

Dad then told me about how when he was a little boy and he was ill, his mother would put a warm washcloth on his forehead. He said it always made him feel better…he continued, “Mom used to put a warm washcloth on my forehead and while I began to express my acceptance and desire to be baptized, I felt that warm cloth on my forehead. It started on my forehead and the sensation went down my neck and through my shoulders and into my back…It was a very warm undeniable feeling that I experienced…I quickly recognized God was accepting my pray and I knew it was time to be baptized.”

Mom and dad were sealed in the Jordan River Temple a short time later.

Dad once told me that the same God that helps him keep sober is the same God he worships when he attends Church…he said I found him on the darkest days of my life. So, the story of how we became members of the Church all started in a little town called Atchison at a place called Valley Hope.

In closing I would like to say that dad will be missed AND we will see him again. We know his body will one day be resurrected with his spirit as this is a gift given to all men through the Lord Jesus Christ. For now, his spirit is in the Spirit World with his beautiful wives and family members. Lucas said it best when he said he must have been very much welcomed home…and he has so much to share with everyone there. He is at peace and his joy is full, and we should always remember he is with us…watching over us…and keeping us safe.

In looking for a way to begin this Eulogy, I searched out all the things I could think of and find. In that search, I found the letters that were sent to me in the mission field. Dad didn’t find it very easy to write to me and he knew I was still a bit home sick…as I had never been so far from home. In reading one of his letters, I found where he shared with me the one thing, he treasured the most after telling me the many things going on in his remodeling jobs…he said, “Well Son, (I shall miss him calling me that the most)…I can’t think of any more news to tell you…We think of you often…and hope for the best for you.” Now dad would always use the Serenity Prayer and I had long realized it was his most prized possession so when he shared it in his letter, it was very dear to me. He continued, “I will leave you with this prayer that says and means so much to me.”

Dear God, Please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference…thank you God…Amen. There have been times when giving a sacred Priesthood Blessing to family members, that I have been prompted to say, “And I bless you in the name of Jesus Christ that God will send his strongest angels to guide and help protect you.” I recognize dad as one of Gods strongest spirits…I would like to think that dad will come as such and help as the Angels reach from heaven to bless us all…This my prayer, In the Name of Jesus Christ…Amen.

There are some things I wanted to be sure to share before I finish.

From Uncle Dickey: Bob was always a very good older brother. He helped me out lots of times. We loved to fish and swim and just be together. He always was there for me when I needed it.

From JoAnn: Dad and Uncle Dick would play the guitar and sing songs together when we would all get together. I remember when dad would come home from work, I would ask if I could take off his shoes…I felt like I was helping him.

From Gary: One time while we were fishing at Miami County Lake, we took Robbie’s truck. Dad always said it costs just as much to keep a full tank of gas as it did an empty one…he was saying this on the way there. He then asked if we had a spare. Yes, we did. It was very late when we began to leave, and it was starting to get dark when we saw we had a flat tire. No problem, the spare tire we had was dug out and was ready to go on…but the hole pattern was too small. Oh no…Dad didn’t hesitate, he took the lug wrench and made each hole larger until the wheel fit on the truck. He just would solve problems without any problem it seems.

From Shannon: Ernest wanted to ask dad’s permission to marry me before he proposed. So, one weekend he came to Kansas City (he was living in Colorado at the time), and we hopped in the car to go down so he could meet dad and Marylou. We had a nice dinner with them. I assumed that I would disappear at some point, and they would talk. Dad had other ideas. With all of us standing in the living room after dinner, he says, “So, I hear you want to marry my daughter.” Ernest says, “Yes, I do.” Dad turns to me and says, “Well what do you think of that Shannon?” I was caught off guard and said the first thing which came to mind. “Well, I think it’s a pretty good idea.” He looked back at Ernest and said, “OK.”

From Hannah: Grandma would cut our hair…where she got her styles was always a good question. She was a good Beautician and took great care of us…but for me, she had cut my hair very short, and I just wanted to cry. It seemed like the dead of winter when that happened, and Grandpa saw how upset I was. He quietly went outside and somehow found a beautiful little flower…which he gave to me. He always tried to show his love for us often finding it difficult, but we knew he loved us.

From Nicholann: Grandpa Bob was an amazing man, I grew up watching him care for his wife grandma Mary. He loved us grandkids a lot! He made me and my sister’s stilts, he made our cousins toy cars, and stick horses. He loved to create and build things. When we were moving him out of the house in Dury, he wanted to keep every little piece of wood because he knew he could make something with it someday. He loved his animals and took good care of them. I remember his big white dog Toby that grandpa loved along with Babe who he has left behind. Grandpa takes care of all his family…and cares for each one of them…he wants to keep everyone safe. I will forever be grateful for him.

Martha: Martha said she could feel how special dad was and enjoyed their brief time together. She said his favorite thing to do was to go to breakfast and then drive to the lake and sit and talk…sometimes read the bible. We solved the world’s problems over and over again…and we shared things about our families…mostly about our kids…I guess I’ll miss that the most.