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<p>When Bob Hoffman’s roommates and classmates remember him from their days at West Point, the first thing that comes to mind is that “Bob never had a bad day!” Of course, that wasn’t true. Everyone has a bad day at West Point. But that was truly the way Bob made others feel. He did that at West Point, and for the rest of his life. </p>
<p><em>Robert Steven “Bob” Hoffman</em> was born October 18, 1947 in Redwood Falls, MN, the son of Lee and Betty Hoffman. He and his six siblings were raised on a small farm in a community known for its beauty and Native American history. Bob was a scholar, student leader and stand-out three-sport athlete in high school, all the right stuff to take him to West Point in the summer of 1965. </p>
<p>Like many in the class, Bob came to play football. Unlike many though, Bob might not have been as clear about the rigors of cadet life or the commitment that would follow graduation. Still, Bob proceeded to succeed unfazed. He liked to say that his Beast Barracks squad leader, Eddie Jordan, gave him the best advice: “Put your mind in neutral for the next four years.” But Bob never put his mind in neutral; instead, he relied on his intelligence, his kindness, his sense of humor, and a unique ability to not sweat the small stuff, and there was no shortage of small stuff at West Point in the ’60s. </p>
<p>Football was competitive during his time at the Academy, and Bob spent time on a B team alongside other excellent athletes. In his junior year he switched to baseball as a back-up catcher, finishing his career with a .500 average, and he always told the story of meeting Whitey Ford and Yogi Berra at the annual Yankees game. </p>
<p>Bob’s years at West Point did seem easy for him. He handled academics and company life without issue or incident and never any drama. He wasn’t overly interested in cadet rank or the politics of ambition. He wasted no time on gossip, but if a story seemed out of place or too far-fetched, he would offer his patented look of disdain, accompanied by “C’mon man!” For a reason no one can recall, Bob became “Chief” to all of us in E-3 and then to many more of his friends. It might have been that he was a big, quiet, self-assured presence amongst us. Or it could have been cheek bones and deep-set eyes that told us everything we needed to know without words. Whatever the reason, Bob became Chief to us all and never complained. </p>
<p>Bob didn’t just come to West Point with smarts, sports skills, and friendship; he also came with Lorie, the love of his life. It was yet another signal to many of us that Bob might know things about love and life that we would have to learn. </p>
<p>Bob chose Field Artillery at Fort Lewis, WA, and he and Lorie were married June 19, 1969 at a small church in Minnesota, where they had met in second grade. Their first two children, Carina and Greg, were born at Fort Lewis prior to Bob’s departure for Vietnam. Serving as a fire support officer and battery commander in Vietnam, Bob was awarded the Bronze Star, Air Medal, and Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry. Stateside, Lorie gave birth to Christi but wasn’t awarded any medals for managing three children alone. Bob’s return from Vietnam led to service with the DIVARTY at Fort Riley, KS and the birth of Michael. A tour in Germany with the 3-84th Field Artillery Regiment, a Pershing Missile battalion, followed, and then Bob finished an MBA from Boston University. In 1981, Bob and Lorie decided to leave active duty, and they joined Bettis Atomic Power Laboratory. Bob would remain for a career in the Army Reserve, retiring in 2007. </p>
<p>Bettis Labs is the nation’s exclusive developer of the U.S. Navy’s nuclear capabilities. For the next 26 years Bob and Lorie would continue to serve our nation in Idaho and Pittsburgh and back to Idaho. After an intensive training program, Bob began as a shift director, ultimately specializing in process and program safety, retiring at the Idaho National Laboratory in 2007 as director of safety. </p>
<p>What defined Bob throughout his life were faith, love, and family. What did not define him was illness. Born with a serious blood disorder and later diagnosed with lupus and then multiple myeloma, Bob would often answer the question, “How are you?” with, “Well, I’ve got 15 diseases.” </p>
<p>But not one of those diseases, nor their attacks on his body, diminished his spirit or his commitment to his faith and his love of life and family. </p>
<p>He found ways to work, he found ways to serve others, and he always found ways to be the husband and father and friend who meant so much to others and made his life complete. He was a devoted and enthusiastic athlete, coach, and fan all his life. He carried his oxygen with him on fishing escapades with children and grandchildren and friends. He gardened and baked and shared life’s lessons with his four children and 10 grandchildren.</p>
<p>Bob’s faith showed in his work and life. At West Point he devoted himself to service at the Catholic Chapel and his service in the Knights of Columbus saw him rise to the rank of Grand Knight. </p>
<p>He is survived by Lorie, his wife, and his four children: Carina Van Pelt (Gene) of Idaho Falls, ID; Greg (Jacquie) of Draper, UT; Christi Litzsinger (Chris) of Eagle, ID; and Mike (Jill) of Austin, TX; as well as his 10 grandchildren. </p>
<p>Be Thou at Peace. </p>
<p><em>— Hoffman Family and Company E-3 classmates</em></p>
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