Robert Holt Dahl
Robert Holt Dahl
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered
wings, Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the
tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds—-
and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of…..
Robert (Bob) Dahl was born on April 2, 1932 and died Dec 31, 2020 in Osoyoos, BC.
Bob was born into a family of seven children to Paul Lamont Dahl and Emma Holt Dahl.
He was raised in Raymond, Alberta and grew up playing basketball, riding horses and entering into mischief with his lifelong friend Gary Gough.
Bob joined the military in 1951; becoming a Jet Jockey (Fighter Pilot) and re- tired in 1979. His military career took him around the world stationing him in bases in Canada, Germany, and USA.
In 1952 Bob met his beloved wife Margaret, they were married in 1955 and celebrated their 65th anniversary on November 2nd of 2020.
Bob was an avid golfer, pool shark, loving father, husband, and grandfather. He looked at the bright side of life and always found the humour in a situation. He had a zest for life and lived it well.
Bob and Marg retired in Osoyoos to take advantage of the weather and the golf. He continued to enjoy golfing into his early 80’s; then traded golf for billiards at the local seniors centre.
Bob loved being a grandfather and took special care of his family. He was a generous and loving man who will be sorely missed.
Bob was predeceased by his two sons Mark Lloyd Dahl and Robert Kelly Dahl; Sisters: Joyce, Jolayne, Maxine; Brothers: Gordon; Morris. Survived by:Wife: Margie; Sister: Myra; Daughter: Patti (Ron); Grandchildren: Christopher, Emily, Amy and Jeremy; Camilla – mother of Amy, Jeremy,Robyn; Step Grand-daughter: Robyn; Step Great- Grand-daughter: Avery.
No service at this time. Donations to BC Cancer Foundation appreciated.
Condolences and tributes may be directed to the family by visiting www.nunes-pottinger.com
….wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hovering there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept height with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew—
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God
High Flight by John Gillespie McGee Jr.