Lyonel Doherty

Times-Chronicle

It’s hard to know where to start in describing what Rob Somerville meant to all of us at the Times-Chronicle.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. For those of you who aren’t aware, Rob, the printer, died last week. 

No way. 

With a heavy heart, yes.

Our beloved fixture in this ancient building has passed on, losing his fight with cancer. 

Whenever I look up at our old florescent tube lights on the ceiling, I think of Rob because he was the only one who changed them. If we tried, we would probably break two of them before getting one to fit.

Whenever I use the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom, I think of Rob because he was the only one who knew how to refill it properly. Whenever we tried, we screwed it up royally; a little piece would stick out the bottom and wouldn’t come out when you pulled it.

Rob probably thought we were a bunch of useless tools . . . damn people can’t do anything.

We loved the guy. 

He had this strange character trait where he’d be walking by and you’d call out his name and he’d stop on a dime and stare at you like an owl, turning his head once or twice.

Rob was a well-respected businessman in Oliver, serving many clients with their printing needs, particularly farmers who always needed bin tags or business cards. Best prices in the Okanagan, too. Actually, he undercharged his clients because that’s just the way he was.

To me, Rob was a mentor on the Okanagan Falls Volunteer Fire Department, where he served many years. 

He was one of a handful of members who consistently showed up for calls in the middle of the night to help a senior with chest pains or someone who had fallen out of their wheelchair.

He was also a damn good pump operator; you could always trust Rob to give you water when you needed it the most during a fire. He trained me many times and never got mad when I grinded the gears on one of the old cantankerous fire engines. 

Rob’s gentleness described his true character, but when he got going on government waste or the “injustice” system, he was fit to be tied.

Sigh. No need to worry about that anymore, Rob.

It’s strangely quiet now in the back room. His old printing machines sit dormant, spattered with ink, waiting for Rob to fire them up again for another run.