After his parents’ divorce, my mom continued a relationship with Bob’s mother. Bonnibel believed strongly in maintaining family connections. I’m sure she loved her brother, Louis, but I’m also sure she had many periods when she did not particularly like him. Louis’ behavior towards Bob and his mother was at the very least deplorable. So, thanks Mom, for giving me the opportunity me to know Bob Child.
At the age of ten, I was unaware of our many “family secrets,” and was prone to blurt something out when I should have been quiet. An occasion in 1953 highlights this tendency. Bob wrote about it in his tome, “Scraps.”
“Sharon Filitti…remarked, ‘You don’t look at all like your brother.'” That was quite a surprise to Bob, who was unaware of a brother, an adopted sibling from Louis’ second marriage.
There were two things I enjoyed growing up. One was acting or performing, the other was writing. As I entered the business world, while writing was not the primary focus of a job, it always became integral to what I was trying to achieve. As a result, I’ve written advertising copy, resumes for clients, newsletters, scripts, technical material, and training manuals.
During the last decade of the 20th century, I worked for a company based in Memphis and had to attend meetings at least once a year in Tennessee. This presented an excellent opportunity to visit Bob and Fran. There were a few occasions when my brother Ted would drive down from Chicago, while I’d head North from Tennessee, meeting at Cherry Street in Carbondale. These visits were punctuated by hearty laughter and visits to wineries and various haunts that Bob and Fran enjoyed.
During this time, Bob was getting his book, “Scraps,” published — an overwhelming task at best. How he had time, I will never know, but he discovered my interest in writing and offered assistance. I’d found a mentor.
Seeing the flyer for his book revealed Bob’s humor. There he was in London, with his book in hand, standing in front of Big Ben. The words said it all, “Point Reached. Scraps Is Published! Big Ben Boomed.”
As much as Bob was anti-internet, I found the web a way to start writing. In 2009, I started a blog. The title came from my human resources days. One of my colleagues was continually saying, “Let me share this with you.” Sharon Share Alike was born. It lasted only one year. My all-consuming job interfered, and then there was another website. Spelled somewhat differently, but getting much more traffic, was Sharon ShareAlike, a website for “a drag queen, entertainer, and emcee, and the creator of BoobsforQueens…” Oh my God, if Bob had seen that he would have been rolling on the floor in laughter.
My copy of “Scraps,” comes with an inscription:
In fond encouragement of your writing habit already underway; ignore my copyright using anything you wish, but spell my name right and send me 20% of the gross. Bob
I’ll always spell your name right, Bob, but where do I send the 20%?
I miss Bob’s way of telling a story and recounting happenings. He made life interesting, entertaining, and even joyful. He recognized people’s shortcomings but didn’t dwell on them.
In remembering him, I’ll especially miss his laughter. Someone said that laughter is the sound of angels singing. OK, that’s a bit much. Bob’s laugh was boisterous and loud lending itself more to the irreverent. On the other hand, it was infectious and fun.
Miss you, dear cousin.