My good friend Bob died of cancer several years ago (before I knew that he was sick!). I miss him terribly as a friend and hunting partner. He was what all the old clich�s say � the real McCoy, all wool and a yard wide, the genuine article, down-to-earth, plain as an old shoe, and so on. He flat knew his stuff. The "Herrett" cartridges were his, but he shunned credit for 'em. He was a good hunter, in part because he was a guide and outfitter for years. More than once, I've seen him out-shoot riflemen, with a handgun.
Though he was short of stature, he had none of the hypersensivity about height ("the Napoleon complex") that makes so many short guys obnoxious. And a good thing that was, because it enabled him to be a very close friend of my other lamented old friend, six-foot-six Bill Jordan. Those two had an on-going private, joshing "feud" that was worlds more fun to watch than the goings-on between Bill and Skeeter. Bob absorbed dozens or hundreds of barbs about his "stunted growth" with an unfailing sense of humor and even genuine enjoyment.
I'd better stop right here � else I'd go on and on with favorite memories of Bob Milek.
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