The late Robert "Dr. Bob" Olson, 82, St, Louis Park
Nominated by Leah Patrick, 37, St. Louis Park
The story:
During the height of the pandemic in the summer of 2020, I received a note in our mailbox. The letter spoke admiringly of my miniature hosta collection, posed an invitation to tour a garden, and was attached to a copy of the lastest Hosta Journal. I knew the house this invitation came from, because I would often walk by it.
I initially met Bob in a garden full of rare hostas, under a fruit-filled apple tree. Other than trips to the VA for cancer treatment, Bob had been staying close to home. Over the summer, the kids and I would stop by to grab an apple from his tree or a Popsicle from his freezer and briefly catch-up. Before the winter, I offered to give him a haircut outside. He gladly accepted, but only if he could pay me; I agreed but only if the currency was hostas. This was the beginning of my friendship with Dr. Bob Olson.
Bob was a man who lived life to the fullest and appreciated a challenge. He excelled naturally in everything he took on and always had stories to share. Often when I cut his hair or stopped by with a weekly meal, he would reminisce about his time as a doctor in Vietnam, hiking the mountains of Japan searching for rare hostas or spending time with his daughters. He was my version of "Tuesdays with Morrie." His stories of Vietnam were history lessons, his quizzes on hosta were gardening tutorials and his weekly meal requests pushed my culinary skills. He was calm, particular, and I only saw him upset when I mistakenly called soil "dirt."
In his last week of life, he wanted an apple pie, which I baked with apples from his own tree. He ate it for dinner with ice cream. Even in his last week, he knew how to live. Friendships in life come in individual packages. This one was two years long, with a 45-year age spread. I'll miss our visits, our fancy lunches, our garden tours and his stories. I am so grateful for his friendship and the inspiration he gave me to live this life with fullness and curiosity.
Wendy Willson Legge, 69, Minneapolis