Bob Popovics Tribute
By Nick Curcione
In testimonials, the word “legend” has become a bit commonplace. But when reflecting on my dear friend Bob Popovics and the lives he touched through his talents and his unabashed enthusiasm to share his passions with others, I am hard-pressed to find a suitable substitute. When he passed early in the morning on November 1, the fly-fishing community indeed lost a legend.
Bob was one of those rare individuals who mastered whatever he set his mind to. In the fly-fishing world, his accomplishments earned him superstar status. He pioneered and popularized materials and techniques in fly tying that are world-renowned, and it is no exaggeration to regard him as the premier innovator among leading saltwater fly tiers. When he left his beloved fly-tying room in the attic and hit the beach to test a new pattern, his prowess at flinging flies in the high surf turned heads, even among experienced anglers. He was the embodiment of the complete angler.
Less known, perhaps, are his passions outside the fly-fishing world, such as his botany-inspired rose garden, which he tended like a mother with a newborn, and the gourmet-class restaurant he ran with the love of his life, his wife Alexis. Bob took as much joy in these pursuits as he did with fly tying and fishing.
I could go on reciting a multitude of similar accolades, and no doubt, as time goes by, more will be forthcoming. A man like this has a ledger book’s worth of friends and admirers. Instead, I’ll end by relating an incident years ago at the Minneapolis–Saint Paul airport that gives a strong sense of what this man was like.
Bob, Ed Jaworowski, and I were returning from a pike fishing trip in Saskatchewan. Our flight was delayed, and we were tired as we headed for some empty seats to wait it out. A few minutes slipped by when a very distraught woman with a small child in tow stopped a few yards from us, panicked and sobbing uncontrollably. From her dress, we surmised she was from somewhere in the Middle East, and it was obvious she neither spoke nor understood English. Bob went right over to her and tried comforting her and the frightened child. He walked them over to the concession stand and bought the little boy a soft drink. The woman managed a brief smile but was still visibly upset. He took them to an airline agent to try to resolve her problem. Finally, in a stroke of luck, a departing passenger noticed the woman, approached her, and began speaking her language. Apparently, she had missed her flight, didn’t have a phone, and had no idea of how to proceed. Fortunately, the agent was able to rebook her. As Bob started walking back to Ed and me, the woman ran to him and gave him a hug that rocked him back on his heels. She was so appreciative of his efforts to help her.
Like many of his close friends, I feel an emptiness that can’t be filled. But wherever you are, Bob, know that you are a legend. You imprinted many with your talents, gifts, and generosity, and you will be missed.
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