Robert Grant

Ground Control to Major Bob
Major Robert Alfred Grant, U.S. Air Force, Ret. Adored husband, father, grandfather and uncle. Pilot. Athlete. Friend. He lived his life flying through the skies and cycling across the earth, but he will be remembered most for his kindness, his sweet smile, and the remarkable way he managed to be everything and everywhere for the people he loved. He died peacefully in his home in Granite Bay, California, on September 14. He was 68. Bob was born in Hawaii in 1951, before it was a state. His father, Larry Grant, had fallen in love with the islands while stationed there during World War II. After the war, Larry moved to Honolulu with his wife Jeanne, a trained opera singer from New York. They raised Bobby and his older brother, Billy, in Portlock, in a house on a hill between the ocean and an old volcano. By all accounts, he spent much of his youth sandy and barefoot, body surfing the crashing waves of his beloved beaches. He learned early-on-how to harness the forces of nature, an ability that served him his whole life. Bob attended middle and high school at Punahou, a decade ahead of President Barack Obama. Bob was a mischievous youth, seeking adventures and often getting himself or his friends into harmless trouble. One of his exploits at Punahou involved the morning loudspeaker broadcast of the National Anthem, which blared across the campus. Bob and his co-conspirator, a fellow platoon member of his ROTC squad, planned to shock their classmates using the Jimi Hendrix record which Bob had recently bought. Bob said he would hold the door and keep a lookout, while his colleague put "Purple Haze" on the P/A system at ear-splitting volume. Within seconds one of the deans approached, Bob yelled a warning and immediately fled, locking his hapless confederate inside the booth to face the consequences. The captured student refused to reveal Bob was his accomplice, and was subsequently expelled from Punahou (mercifully the expulsion was eventually reversed). 20 years later, Bob atoned for his perfidy by saving the same classmate from drowning at Makapuu beach. After graduating from Punahou in 1970, Bob, like many of his peers, chose to attend college on the U.S. Mainland and enrolled at Colgate University in New York State. But his way of getting there was a little less orthodox. He stowed away on an airplane to California and hitch-hiked the rest of the way across the country. When he had landed in California, he spent time camping around the Sierra Nevada mountains near Lake Tahoe. He did not know it at the time but it was the area where he would eventually come to live out most of his life. Two years into his time back East, Bob had grown homesick and transferred to the University of Hawaii at Manoa in Honolulu. There, he majored in Environmental Studies. He spent his spare time playing goalie on an amateur soccer team, riding his bike countless times around the island of Oahu and eating homemade yoghurt. His plans to be an environmentalist changed one day when a friend became a pilot and inspired Bob's lifelong passion for aeronautics. Soon afterwards, in 1975, Bob enlisted in the United States Coast Guard, went to flight school, and got his pilot's wings at Mather Air Force Base near Sacramento in 1977. He managed to secure his first posting back home in Hawaii, near Pearl Harbor. From there, semper paratus (the Coast Guard's motto meaning 'always ready'), he flew search and rescue missions, landing on islands so small they have no name and scouring the vast Pacific Ocean for lost boats. "Things that are lost get found", he used to say, with quiet assurance. After rising to the rank of commander in the Coast Guard, he split his time serving as Major in the Air Force reserves, and flying commercial, ultimately as a captain, with US Airways (now American Airlines). He was an excellent aviator who qualified to pilot dozens of aircraft, from A-330s and the giant "Hercules" C-130s to the tiny Cessnas which he used to fly in loops alongside the majestic Pali mountains of Honolulu. The course of his aviation career led him to many corners of the world, including regional destinations across the United States and the grand cities of Europe. He flew food aid missions in Ethiopia and served in Operation Desert Storm. His military experience came in particularly handy on one commercial flight when he ordered an emergency landing after identifying a loss of cabin pressure that the airplane's safety systems failed to detect that decision saved 200 lives. Over the years he continued to spend his free time on athletic pursuits, competing in triathlons like the Iron Man in Hawaii and the Escape from Alcatraz in San Francisco. He never missed an occasion to bring his beloved bicycle with him on trips. His family considers him the unconfirmed world record holder for number of miles flown in an airplane with his bicycle on board. While other flight crew members spent their layovers in their hotel rooms, Bob would take his bike out, riding for miles and miles, exploring unfamiliar roads and making friends with locals. Even if he didn't speak the language, he didn't need to. He said it all with his warm, handsome face and his heart on his sleeve. As a commercial airline pilot, he took particular pride in his in-flight announcements. Bob's father had been a popular radio host in Hawaii, and Bob had inherited a velvety-timbered speaking voice. He used this time to put passengers at ease with a laugh, saying things like "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you refuse keep your seat belt fastened while we are in the air, I'm gonna have to ask you to step outside". Like in high school, he still had a penchant for playing jokes over P/A systems. Bob forged a special place in the hearts of too many people to mention. His warm-heartedness and boyish charm touched everyone he met. He was the most wonderful husband, father and grandfather that anyone could hope for. In the early 1980's, Bob received a transfer from Hawaii to McClellan Air Force Base in Sacramento so that he could be near his daughter, Maya. It was there, in September 1984, that he met the love of his life, Athena, with whom he was to share all of his remaining years. Their love was itself a force of nature - unconditional and unyielding - bridging opposite ends of the earth, with Bob from Hawaii and Athena from Greece. They settled in Granite Bay, near the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Bob coached youth soccer for his other daughter Maria, to whom he passed along his star goalie skills, and so much more. Bob was a natural born teacher, with gentle patience and soothing speech. But his greatest lesson was one he taught without saying a word: he demonstrated, just by being in his orbit, the soft power of kindness. In his later years he would spend unending hours imparting his knowledge to his grandson, Joshua. They discussed everything from chess strategies and aviation, to the sun, the stars - and the heavens, which is where we look to find him today, and always. Floating Far above the moon. Bob is survived by his wife, Athena Grant, his daughters Maya Grant Symon and Maria Iconomopulos, his son-in-law, Scott Symon, his grandson, Joshua Grant Symon, his nephew, Joshua Grant and his grand-nieces, Alexandra, Kaitlyn and Hailey Jeanne Grant.