Robert Lee Bateman III

FUNERAL HOME

Mitchell-Wiedefeld Funeral Home, Inc.

6500 York Road

Baltimore, Maryland

Robert Bateman Obituary

BATEMAN III , Robert Lee On September 10, 2011, Robert Lee Bateman, III, beloved son of the late Ruth C. (nee Thirlkel) and Robert Lee Bateman Jr.; dear drother of Kathleen, B. Sharman, Jean B. Ottey, Joseph E. Bateman, Ann B. Stuckey and Thomas T. Bateman. Also survived by eleven nieces and nephews.
Friends may call at the family-owned MITCHELL-WIEDEFELD FUNERAL HOME INC., 6500 York Rd. (at Overbrook), on Wednesday, 2-4 & 7-9 PM. A Funeral Mass will be offered Thursday, 11 AM, at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church. Interment Moreland Memorial Park. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Mosaic Behavioral Health Services, (who cared for Bobby for many years), 1925 Greenspring Drive, Timonium, MD 21093.

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Published by Baltimore Sun on Sep. 13, 2011.

Memories and Condolences
for Robert Bateman

Sponsored by The Bateman Family.

6 Entries

Michael Bateman

February 2, 2012

We love ypu Uncle Bobby!

Paul Bateman

September 18, 2011

Eulogy written and read by Paul Bateman, Bobby's nephew, at Bobby's funeral.

Thank you all for coming today.
I’m here to say some things about my wonderful Uncle. I’ll tell you, he made life interesting for all of us, but a few things about him stick out in my mind.
He had a special greeting for everyone. For example, his way of saying , “Hi” to me was, “HI ya PAUL-JOSEPH”!!! He would have such enthusiasm in his voice! Something else I remember is how often he would call my Dad. Uncle Bobby always had something to talk about. Those of you who knew him well know what I mean. It was just part of his personality.
A few days ago I was having a pretty good day, then I saw my Dad walk by with a face that was a mix of worry and concern. I paused for a moment wondering why he looked like that, when I couldn’t figure it out I continued with my day. About 10 minutes later Dad said he needed to tell me something. Dad then said, “your Uncle Bobby died this morning”. All the air seemed to suck out of me. “No”, I thought to myself, Uncle Bobby must be making a joke . . . , but deep down I knew it was true.
Yesterday at the viewing when I knelt down to pray for him I expected him to open his eyes and yell, “gotcha”, but somehow I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I heard my Dad and the rest of Uncle Bobby’s siblings talking about how he was “up there”, looking down at us, excited about how many of his family and friends came to make such a fuss over him.
I think he’s up there now, talking with the three people he would have liked to have seen most on this earth; his mom, dad, and God himself. I know he is having a great time wherever in heaven he is. Uncle Bobby sure made life fun down here and now God is returning him the favor. WE LOVE YOU UNCLE BOBBY.

Jean Ottey

September 16, 2011

Bobby’s Eulogy
Bobby Bateman—I want to share with you a little about the legacy that my brother Bobby left to those of us who knew him best. By no means was Bobby’s life an easy one. From the moment he was born it was apparent that he had mental handicaps which later developed into profound mental illness.
Given this you are likely thinking, “What possible legacy could he have left?” The legacy is found in all the virtues he taught us over the course of his lifetime. He brought out the best in us, even if we had to go through the worst to get there. He taught us to be better human beings.
Whenever I think of my brother Bobby for very long, I inevitably think of my mother. For I am convinced that my mother’s greatest accomplishment in life was the raising of my brother Bobby. And this was no minor feat. You see, I am only 14 months younger than Bobby and had a front row seat to observe Mom and Bobby every day for many years.
It did not take my mother very long to know that life with Bobby presented a unique set of challenges. Bobby was always the most comfortable with rigid routine, and any deviation from that routine upset him greatly.
From the time I was in first grade I remember watching my mother perform what I call the “Kitchen Ritual” every morning. She would think of every possible thing that could happen during the course of a school day, and while Bobby and I were in the kitchen getting ready for school, she would explain to Bobby, step by step, what he should do in each given situation. She would repeat the steps day after day until she was comfortable that Bobby understood what was to be done. The “Kitchen Ritual” went on for years.
Due to Mom’s constant vigilance, Bobby graduated from the 8th grade here at IHM. He got a driver’s license, and he earned a high school diploma. He also had several part time jobs. During part of his senior year of high school, Bobby had an in-home tutor. The tutor would come to our house every day to work with Bobby. After several weeks of observation, he told Mom that in his opinion it was absolutely phenomenal that Bobby had made it through the 11th grade. It was also his opinion that Bobby’s success was due to Mom’s diligence.

By the age of 19, Bobby’s mental illness was in full swing and it became apparent that my parents could no longer care for him at home. Sadly, their only choice was to admit him to Spring Grove State Hospital where he remained for many years. My parents and all of us would go visit him or bring him home almost every weekend. After a number of years he had the good fortune to move to a group home situation sponsored by the wonderful people at Mosaic.
Over the years Bobby has made us cry, and he has made us laugh. He was a sweet, loveable soul who would try to make best friends with every single person in line at McDonalds, but if you dared to disturb one single item in his room you were very quickly put on his black list. Bobby was a packrat and he was a creature of habit. Every year he would ask for the same things for his birthday—a bible, a shirt and tie combination, tennis shoes with white laces, the Cats in the Cradle CD by Harry Chapin, and a CD player. And for his birthday dinner he would always ask for ham and Aunt Jean's potato salad and “Coca Cola Classic”. And he loved to collect things such as the plastic cups from any fast food place he visited, and the little toys from Happy Meals. These collections would get out of control sometimes and we would have to plan an intervention. Recently Jeannie and I had such an intervention and in order to gain his permission to purge his room we would always have to appeal to a higher authority—in this case it was Mom. I told Bobby that Mom had appeared to me in a dream and told me that I was to get Jeannie and get over and CLEAN THAT ROOM! It worked. Bobby let us clean out his room.
Bobby loved his ties and would wake up everyday and put on a shirt and a tie. That was his favorite thing to wear. In later years he became very dapper and added a hat and sunglasses. But as stylish as he liked to be, Bobby was notorious for having wardrobe malfunctions at the most inopportune times. No matter how many pants we would buy that actually fit him, invariably the pants he wanted to wear were always 3 sizes too big. So Ann took Bobby to Mass one Sunday. At one point when they stood for one of the prayers Bobby made an announcement, (now understand when Bobby Bateman made an announcement, it was not done in an undertone or subdued whisper, but rather shouted in a voice loud enough to rival the peanut vendor at an Orioles game.) So picture it – they are standing in the pew at mass when Bobby announces, “Ann, my Pants fell down!” Ann learned a lot that day about patience and humility.

Bobby loved Christmas and always looked forward to being at home with us. One year in the late 70’s, Bobby was home for Christmas. Mom had told Bobby that if he did all right-he could stay Christmas Eve and through dinner Christmas Day. He arrived midday on Christmas Eve. During the course of the day I heard Mom repeatedly assuring Bobby that as long as he did all right he could stay through dinner on Christmas Day. (You may want to remember the phrase all right.) Christmas Eve wound down, and it was finally time for bed. Now this particular year, a family friend was with us for the holiday. His name was Jim. And Jim was given the dubious honor of sharing a room with Bobby that night. We all settled down for a peaceful night’s sleep… or so we thought. All of a sudden out of the quiet came Bobby’s booming voice,
“Jim, am I doing all right? Jim, am I doing all right?”
Next we hear Jim’s response – in a very soft, calm voice –
“You’re doing fine Bob, just go back to sleep. You’re doing fine”
Everyone settles again, believing that Jim had the crisis well in hand, and that we will not hear from Bobby again till the morning. No such luck! Fifteen minutes later the voice comes again,
“Am I doing all right, Jim? Am I doing all right?”
Jim again responds –
“You’re doing fine, Bob”
And so it went every fifteen minutes for the rest of the night. Infinite patience and understanding were needed by everyone to get through that night.
Funny thing about that Jim guy, he never spent another Christmas with us.
But since then, our family has gathered every year for the “Annual Bobby Bateman Christmas Party” where Bobby has torn open his presents with great delight and always appointed someone “in charge”—usually Jeannie.
AS the years have gone by we have all realized that bobby in many ways has been the hub of our family and has provided some of the glue that binds us all together. That in itself, is a wonderful legacy to leave to us , his siblings.
Living with Bobby taught us that we should never take anything for granted, such as our health or a full life with a spouse, family, and a career.
He taught us how to stretch beyond our comfort zone and be more understanding of people that maybe are a little different. He taught us that every life matters and every life has a purpose.
Well, Bobby, our family has had an incredible journey together. And you were our tour guide. You took us down some unexpected side roads and over some very steep mountains. But we always stayed on the bus with you and never let you ride alone. We learned more from you than you learned from us. Thanks for the lessons.
Now you have changed buses. And we can’t ride this one with you. But our spirits are joyful because we know you are in a better place where there is no suffering. We fervently pray that there is an endless supply of Coca Cola Classic.
AS we say our final farewells, the 5 of us are still sitting on the incredible journey bus and we have one final question for you—is Jeannie still in charge.

Sarah Burns

September 15, 2011

Bobby, you are such a sweet, sweet man. I will miss you very much. Be with God and be at peace.

Carla Sharman

September 14, 2011

Uncle Bobby,
We will always remember your smile and your wonderful spirit. We were fortunate to have you in our lives. We know you are up in heaven and smiling down on us but we will miss you down here!