for Robert

 

“Robert, come home!” was a memory & story from when Robert was a little boy, and the family lived over by Johnson Bayou, Robert running around in the marsh grass while his mother was calling him in for supper, and Robert pretending not to hear her! 

You do not know me: I am Thomas Carroll Weller, Jr. People call me Tom, or Fr. Tom (I’m a retired priest of the Episcopal Church). But Robert and our Cove School classmates called me Carroll, my middle name. 

Robert started Cove School with us when we were in second grade, and we attended each others’ 7-years-old birthday parties in 1942. Friends in later life, we enjoyed long walks around The Cove, and having breakfast at local restaurants.

Robert was elected President for Life of our Cove School Class of 1949 alumni group, which he gathered together, and for whom he hosted several class reunions, held on our old Cove School campus in later years. 

Star basketball player at Cove School and Bay High, Robert was a man of determination and accomplishment. He grew up with his parents loving and encouraging him, and he could do anything he set his mind to. He was a highly valued, trusted chief auditor with Florida’s state revenue authority. Robert was a marathon runner who trained by running the hills of Tallahassee. He ran the Boston Marathon, where he tripped early in the race, but ran on in pain, limping across the finish line with a sprained ankle. I think he was 55 years old. If a race, or anything in life, got too tiring, challenging, Robert urged himself on by “hearing” his mother calling him when he was a little boy, “Robert, come home!” and the memory never let him down.

Robert was a man of stories, he enjoyed telling them during our walks, including stories about life and love, and our Cove School days, and his many careers. He loved telling stories about his family - - growing up with Peggy, and their trove of comic books in a box on the front porch at The Green House on Massalina Drive (I read those comics). Stories about when his brother Sarge was his boss in the Army and seemed to give Robert more KP than anyone else! 

Stories about his father and mother, whom I remember from our childhood, Robert’s mother taking a carload of us boys, dropping us off at the Ritz Theatre downtown, and picking us up after the show. 

Stories about Cindy, and Susan, and Rose. How Robert’s mother took care of Cindy and Susan when they lived here in Panama City. Robert’s story of his first telephone call from Rose. Robert was a loving, sentimental father, son, and. brother, and his stories were so full of love that they always ended with tears in his eyes.

Robert was a person of honor, hard work, kindness and integrity. We knew each other with respect and friendship for 84 years.

“Robert, come home!” - his memory and story from childhood, saw him through tough Times in life, and has now called Robert home to Jesus, and everlasting life with those he loves.

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Cove School enthusiast Robert Everitt Padgett (1935-2026) was my friend for 84 years, and my classmate at Cove School (1949) and Bay High (1953). When I last visited him in May 2026 on his 91st birthday, he was home in bed under hospice care, near death with terminal prostate cancer; he'd been living with the cancer for about the last ten years, including when we used to walk around The Cove early mornings. As I was leaving for the last Time, he asked me to speak at his funeral. Robert died a month later, in June 2026. This is basically the words I first wrote, but then condensed down at the last minute because I had not been scheduled to speak, but thought that if I got the chance, or if the officiating minister opened the floor for friends to speak, I would say just a few words, maybe three or four minutes max. So, the text above is a bit more than I ended up saying. 

For friendship and Robert's life,

RSF&PTL

T90