Tribute to Bob Corcoran
From his cousin Nancy
Aunt Dot and Uncle Jim and their four children were like a second family to me growing up. In many ways, they felt like another set of parents. Bob, who was four years younger than I was, always held a special place in my heart—almost like a big brother.
I have so many fond memories of our childhood. My Aunt Dot and Uncle Jim often took me along on family adventures with the Corcorans. One of the trips I remember most was camping at Fair Haven Beach on Lake Ontario. Bob and I would spend hours playing together. One of our favorite games involved a box of plastic dark-green toy soldiers that we stationed all around the cinder-block fireplace at the campsite.
I was a bit of a tomboy back then, and Bob patiently indulged me. We would have wrestling matches—good-natured contests to see who could knock the other over first. We always kept things completely safe and painless, and I remember thinking it was the most wonderful fun.
Bob was also the one who first introduced me to a chemistry set. He shared his with me, letting me experiment and explore alongside him. I’m happy to say we never blew anything up—but the excitement of discovery stayed with me.
He even taught me how to play tennis. Bob had the patience of a saint as he worked with me, and he went so far as to give me one of his own tennis rackets. At the time he was pursuing tennis very seriously and even working toward playing professionally. That gesture meant a great deal to me.
Bob was always thoughtful, caring, and simply wonderful to be around.
Years later, after Bob had moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma, he continued to influence my life in a profound way. I have always loved working with children, but during a particularly troubled time in my life I felt lost and uncertain. I called Bob and told him I felt strongly that I needed to come to Oklahoma and spend some time with him and his wife.
Bob was already deeply involved in ministry, working with children in several housing projects. I told him I couldn’t really explain why I felt called to come—I just knew I needed to be there and that Bob needed to be my mentor. He happily accepted his assignment.
Bob had told me there would be no guest room, but I told him that would be okay. I’d happily sleep on the floor, grateful just to be there. I had no idea that the experience would change my life forever.
At that time I was struggling with fear of people because of some painful experiences at work. One day Bob asked me to help him set up his puppet stage and curtain for a children’s program in one of the housing projects. As more than fifty children began filling the recreation room, Bob sat in front of them talking to one of the puppets.
The puppet named Ernie that he was talking to was sitting right next to me behind the curtain.
Suddenly I realized that puppet needed to answer him.
So, before I knew it, Ernie was on my hand and talking to the kids.
All I knew was that I couldn’t let Bob—or the kids—down. Before I knew it, Bob and I were doing an interactive puppet show together with the children, and it turned into an incredible experience for everyone in the room.
That single moment changed something inside me. Bob’s thoughtfulness and encouragement helped pull me out of the fear that had been holding me back. It renewed my compassion and my desire to help others. That experience opened doors for me that eventually led to college, where I graduated with honors.
Bob showed me firsthand how one person can truly change another person’s life.
I remained thankful over the years that we kept in touch, especially through the difficult times Bob faced with bone marrow cancer. Bob was always a fighter. He endured incredible challenges and came close to death more than once. Through it all, he continued to trust the Lord.
One of the great miracles in his life was when his late-in-life brother Ron turned out to be a bone marrow donor match and was able to save Bob’s life. It was a powerful reminder of the love within the Corcoran family and of God’s hand on Bob’s life.
I could go on and on sharing memories. Even during the short time I spent in Oklahoma, I saw firsthand how many lives Bob was touching through his ministry with children and families. His love for people was genuine, and everyone who met him could feel it.
I also want to say a word about Bob’s beloved wife, Barbara. It was easy to hear the deep love and affection they had for each other, an affection that continued to grow between them over the years. The way they spoke about one another made it clear that their marriage was filled with kindness, warmth, and respect. From those phone conversations alone, I was reminded that to know Barbara is to love her. I truly cannot imagine Bob with a sweeter or more caring helpmate.
Bob’s life reflected the love of Christ in a very real way. I have no doubt that today God is embracing him and saying the words we all hope to hear one day:
“Well done, good and faithful servant.”
Bob, I love you. You will always remain in my heart and memories, as you will for my husband Walt, who always enjoyed talking with you.
Rest in peace.
—Your cousin, Nancy Marie Juriga Pickut and Walt W. Pickut
