Robert Spence

Robert “Bob” Spence was the kind of man who left a mark—not with fanfare or loud declarations, but through quiet strength, endless patience, and a heart big enough to embrace everyone he met. Born on October 4, 1953, to Owen and Ida Spence, Bob grew up with his brother Danny and his two Sisters Brenda and Debbie.

Bob served his country during a brief but meaningful stint in the U.S. Army, spending time overseas in Germany. Bob married Alicia and had two daughters, Amy and Diana, who remained his pride and joy. He was married for 16 years and then remarried Deborah.

Professionally, Bob wore many hats—from working in electrical systems and industrial equipment to his time at Alcott Plastics and later, Amflex Packaging. His people skills made him a natural in sales, and he flourished there. Bob was a true jack-of-all-trades. After inheriting Amflex with his business partner Andy, Bob continued working tirelessly—even after “retirement,” which, for him, was just a word.

But it wasn’t work that defined Bob—it was passion. He was an avid outdoorsman with a love for hunting, fishing, and golf. From taking out Papa's Binky on Lake Michigan to the ranches of Texas, if there was an adventure to be had, Bob was in the middle of it. He shared that love freely, taking his children, grandchildren, and friends into nature with him, passing down skills and building memories that will last generations.

When Bob moved to Texas, a new friendship with Adeline Coroiescu was formed. The two became inseparable—fixing, building, hunting, and laughing like teenage boys. They hunted hogs and deer in Centerville, chased rams and Axis in Sonora, and cooked up wild game with as much joy as they had catching it. Bob’s sense of humor and weak stomach provided constant entertainment—especially when his mischievous companions made him gag on cue.

Bob also had a softer, quieter side. He taught himself to play guitar—most memorably the Batman theme—and later passed that love of music to his granddaughter Alyssa, who cherishes those lessons as some of her most treasured memories. Even in his final months, Bob remained a listener, a helper, and a friend.

He was a husband, a father, a grandfather, a mentor, and a best friend. He was the man who looked out for everyone else before himself, who avoided conflict but embraced connection.

Bob didn’t just live life—he infused it with kindness, curiosity, and generosity. He is missed deeply, but his legacy lives on in his children, grandchildren, and every life he touched. He taught us to love big, laugh often, and always keep a fishing pole—or a golf club—nearby, just in case.