Robert William Schlumbohm,

In October of 1993, Brian and I gave Bob a blank book.  Bob was always writing on any paper he could find.  He was also philosophical in his stories and I enjoyed listening to them.  I think that’s why he loved me.  I was reintroduced to the blank book we got him today.  We told him to write his stories in it so that someday he’d have a collection of them for his grand-kids.  This was two years before Brian and I had our first child Sara.  Over the years, he wrote some.  I think I’ll try to take the time to type them and post them for all to read because older people are so good with stories.  We can all learn from their wisdom.

So here you go, in the order they were written in his book.

This man, Robert William Schlumbohm age 70, 1993

Who am I?  This is a question that young people ask themselves in those rare moments when they stop and contemplate life. 

The question often hangs around into the middle age unanswered.

At some time, when hair is white and tooth is long, we dare to be honest with ourselves and some truths; both positive and negative are admitted.  The characteristics that we are made of both physical and otherwise (mental, emotional) will be passed on to those that follow.  I “see” in myself some of my father and grandfather (mother’s side).  Interesting.  And so I describe myself as best I can.  For better or worse.

Who I am.

Independent, private, sticker (hate to give up), self-assured.  Preferred the field to the desk.  The physical over the mental but yet a thinker.  A goal setter, short and long range but always within and about farming.  Having never attained the goal over a lifetime of effort, I must allow that I am a bullhead with no real sense of business but willing and eager to accept a challenge, try new ways, improvise on the go.  Farming suited me because of the varied work and the hope of success that each new planting season offered.  Not a patient man with myself or others.  Those who follow many understand.