Robert Lee Kelly

Robert Lee Kelly, 91, of Fort Wayne, passed away on July 31, 2025, Gone with the wind. Not a bad way to go. No fuss. No mess. Exit music, please. Red River Valley would be Robert Lee Kelly's choice; all about leaving, bidding adieu, a simple lyric, to the tune of a harmonica. Death is often unexpected; a few kindred souls would have wanted to say goodbye. Alas, Kelly was never, not once, good at saying goodbye. He once said that when it was time, he would like to be lifted away by a current of air, taking his leave for parts unknown. Gone with the wind. This fanciful notion was without a doubt a direct genetic inheritance of his mother's VB gene. That being said, it should also be noted that Viola Belle taught him to read that long-ago preschool summer when he was confined to bed amidst pillows, cracker crumbs, a plaster leg cast and books. That which is found in books would never leave Kelly's being, vigilant to all things large and small. Many years later, Viola Belle, a bit ruefully would say, "He took to reading like a duck to water, not only his nose, but his entire self was forever in a book." Kelly as an adult kept a bookmark that read: "Some say that life is the thing, I prefer reading." Truth be known, Kelly preferred life, but books illuminated the way. Kelly was also occupied by writing, his words on paper, held close, thinking that perhaps writing should be a professional goal. After much thought, however, Kelly came to believe that he could be better at living than writing. His chosen occupation, quite by accident, was teaching. He was well-versed in his subject matter, but tending to the spirit of his students matter most. Each day, every day, Kelly had a steadfast, but by no means gratuitous commitment to all of his students. Many were held in high esteem and even greater affection. Kelly would add, "It is not possible to miss real regard. Students always know what is real and what is not." Kelly, if asked about his life as a teacher, would respond, "I am in the business of putting old heads on young shoulders." Kelly was recognized as Teacher of the Year at South Side High School and lost the districtwide nomination by a single vote. He thought: "My own doing." Kelly could be oppositional, especially when expected to quietly acquiesce. Not in his gene pool. He had an abhorrence of meaningless cant, of social pretense, of calculated cruelty, of racial prejudice, of all injustice of any stripe; faced with any of these, he was certain to confront the perpetrator regardless of status, rank, power. He would speak out, act out and now and then be wiped out. His own doing. However, Kelly's mantra remained, "The general principles of any study you may learn by books, at home, but the details, the color, the tone, the air, the life which makes it live in us, you must catch all these from those in whom it lives." Kelly is survived by like-minded travelers, enriching his life beyond measure, by members of his extended family, including those with 4 legs, by a handful of forever friends, by those who choose not to complain or explain, by those accepting the consequence and sometimes the reward, by anyone singing the Hosanna Chorus, by those who watch the sky for snow, by those dancing along with Mr. Bojangles, knowing that his dance can be a purposeful, as meaningful as the pilgrimage climb to the mountaintop --- and by those who embrace irony. There is this, too: several individuals, well-wishers have often expressed the feeling that Kelly should not have been alone. Not to worry. He was not. Kelly was connected, engaged, committed to a relationship that held fast for 55 plus years. Years that were challenging, tough, tender, genial, thoughtful and, at certain moments, approached a noble endeavor in practice and purpose. Add to that fun, much laughter and, of course, some remorse, but without regret. There was no place for regret in Kelly's life. In its place was always an acceptance of any circumstance that was the opposite of what was expected; life as it is, sometimes messy, sometimes glorious not. Aside from rhubarb cake and Senebeck pudding, not a single event in his life has been more nourishing that this shared, lively and ethical journey. Postfix: Jed has stopped somewhere. You will find him. He is waiting for you.

Kelly has requested no calling, no service. His ashes will be seeded at a personal touchstone in downtown Fort Wayne, and possibly on the stony windswept shores of Gravewatch House. It is also possible that as Kelly faded into the ether accompanied by the sounds of Waltzing Matilda (a joyful favorite) his hand was raised high in a final salute to those he has never forgotten, to those he has cherished. It is also likely that he was thinking: "Tomorrow to fresh fields and pastures

new."