My Dearest Friend: Bob 'Bear' Koehler

by Charles Smith, KPMG Professor Emeritus of Accounting

Very few events in life have shocked me as much as the news of Bob Koehler's passing did on Jan. 3. "Bear" was a very dear friend. Actually, he was my dearest friend in this world. I got to know him as a brother. He was a special friend to my wife Anjoe and to my three sons and their families—even to 5-year-old Adam, the youngest of my grandchildren. Every member of my family loved Bear dearly. They did not know him as Professor Koehler or Dr. Koehler or Mr. Koehler. All of them knew him as Bear, and my grandchildren always looked forward to having him join us for Thanksgiving dinner each year—including Nov. 23, 2006.

As a professor, Bob Koehler was widely known and respected for his very strong commitment to teaching and to students. I have taught at five major universities in the United States, and I have not found the equivalent of a Bob Koehler at any of these institutions. I doubt that he exists anywhere because it involves an amount of giving that is not normal for most of us mere mortals. He labored in the vineyard that is Penn State, but it was very much a labor of love.

Bear was a unique and different type of professor and person. He walked off with more awards and recognitions for outstanding performance as a teacher, and for rendering outstanding service in so many different areas, than I have ever seen granted to any other single professor in all of my years in academia. And yet, all those awards, and all that recognition fell short in terms of being able to reward him adequately for his passion for, and commitment to, students, both as students and as human beings. You might suggest this is exaggeration or hyperbole, but it’s not. Not at all. You should have seen Bear operate—so naturally, so sincerely, and from the heart.

The real beauty of Bear's commitment to young people was that he did all of it with the purest of motivations. He was not interested in "return on investment" as defined by so many others in this world of ours. He was not interested in neon lights. He did it all out of concern and love for our students, and for Penn State—an institution he loved so very much.

And as far as his love for Penn State was concerned, I am convinced that there is not any one dominating factor that one can point to as the reason for his love for the blue and white. His love for Penn State was a love for the total institution—all parts and all dimensions of the institution. He had a comprehensive love for Penn State as the institution existed when he first arrived on campus as a freshman; and no matter how the University changed, his love for it remained just as strong. He loved and got excited about everything Penn State. I bet that he rarely attended athletic events—maybe half a dozen during all his years here in Happy Valley.

His love for "Dear Old State" was a deep, sincere, and quiet love for an institution such as I have never seen in others. (It should be noted that I was a professor at The University of Texas at Austin from 1969 to 1974, when Darryl Royal led the Longhorns to a number of national championships in football.) Yes, Bob was proud of Penn State's academic standing, and, yes, he felt good when he read reports on the accomplishments of our men's and women's soccer and fencing teams, of our football team, and of our men's and women's rugby teams, etc. (Bear found out about rugby because of Monday morning sports reports from his colleague and friend Charlie Smith.) But, to Bob Koehler, there was more to Penn State than all of this.

Cafe Laura meant as much to him as good academics and good athletics, and he was proud of the fact that he was the first customer to be served at Cafe Laura's new facility when it opened a number of years ago. As I wrote in a letter of recommendation for Bear many years ago: "Please forgive my view of the world, but it is crystal clear to me that Professor Bob Koehler is 'Mr. Penn State.'"

Bob "Bear" Koehler loved Penn State, and he loved State College, and he loved Happy Valley. He was very proud and very happy to be a citizen of each. And Bear was also very proud when The Tavern Restaurant responded positively a few years ago to the request of the officers of Beta Alpha Psi, an accounting honorary organization, to allow his picture to adorn its walls. (If you want to see it there today, it's on the left side of the fireplace in the restaurant.) I doubt that any other citizen of Penn State, State College, and Happy Valley is able to point to such an accomplishment.

There are so many nouns and adjectives I can use to describe Bear, and there are so many stories I can tell you about the lad, such as his lousy tips when I used to serve him at The Tavern in the mid-60s (Bob Koehler, the professor, and Charlie Smith, the Ph.D. student); such as our Molly Malone night in Johnstown; such as his slap on the wrist of a waiter in a rather posh restaurant in Washington, D.C., when the waiter sought to take his plate prior to his consumption of the last morsel on the plate; such as a major accomplishment on his part of never having eaten at a fast-food restaurant such as McDonald's; and such as his continuous boasting in recent years of the fact that he was indeed one year younger than me. But let me simply observe that he was a wonderfully humble person who derived happiness by giving of himself.

And let me not forget the fact that I never once heard Bear speak badly of another human being. What an example! Yes indeed, what an example he was to those of his faculty colleagues who sometimes allowed ourselves to be negatively affected by the serious nature of the discussion in faculty meetings. Not so for Bear Koehler. He would participate in the discussion, analyze and evaluate, then do the right thing for the right reason with his vote, and exit the meeting room "good friends with all"—as always.

When something sad, such as the sudden loss of a dear friend like Bear, takes place, I must admit to once again feeling tempted to ask the "why" question. But, I must not. When I get to feeling sad about the vacuum in my life created by Bob Koehler's sudden departure from us all, I am reminded of the privilege that has been mine to have spent the past 20 years—January 1987 to December 2006—with him here at Penn State and in State College and Happy Valley. I am one who no longer asks the why question. I prefer to give thanks for this wonderful privilege. I am ever so happy that I, my wife, and another couple had dinner with Bear in June 2006 to celebrate his 70th birthday; that he (and his famous rum cake) spent Thanksgiving day with the Charlie and Anjoe Smith family on Nov. 23 in State College; and that I saw him the afternoon of Dec. 18 before his departure the next day for Georgia and Fort Lauderdale to spend Christmas with his brother and family. I am so very happy that I was able to give him a goodbye hug on the 18th.

Bob "Bear" Koehler was a gem and a giant of a human being. He is irreplaceable as an accounting professor, and as a friend, and we are all going to miss him dearly. I will forever cherish the memories of our times together, and I look forward to seeing him again one day.

Bear, I love you man!

For those of you who would like to make a financial contribution in my dear friend Bob Koehler's name, I would like to suggest as follows:

    The Robert W. Koehler Academic Excellence in Accounting Scholarship
    University Development Office
    One Old Main
    Penn State University
    University Park, PA 16802

On-line at https://secure.ddar.psu.edu/GiveTo. Follow the prompts, and be sure to designate your gift in memory of Dr. Koehler. (You may omit "Bear!")

Bear was most proud of this scholarship endowment which he established at the time of his retirement in June 2002.

Alternatively ...

    St. Paul's United Methodist Church
    109 McAllister Street
    State College, PA 16801

Bear was a faithful member of St. Paul's for as many years as he was associated with Penn State. He loved his church.