Remembering Fulton’s Robert Weston

Longtime Fulton alderman Bob Weston is pictured above. Weston’s family held a celebration of his life recently, and provided his eulogy to The Palladium-Times.

Editor’s note: The following is the eulogy by friend Al Squiteri for Fulton’s Robert Weston, who died on March 2, 2021. It is provided by his family, who recently held a celebration of Bob’s life and has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

“The Dash,” a poem written by Linda Ellis, speaks of the dash inscribed between the dates of birth and death on headstones. It represents our lifetime, long or short — a date and time only God knows.

My wife Anne and I met the Westons about 35 years ago. We were two years older than the Westons, and married two years longer. Anne met Bob first, in the Grand Union where he was managing. Bob went right at it, picking Annie out of the crowd. Bob at one end of the aisle, Annie hardly in the front door. There she was, one kid in the carriage, one on the side, and one in the oven.

Bob, with a crowd of elderly women between them, with arms waving like a guy hailing a NYC cab, yells, “Hello, miss!”

Annie said, “This guy is nuts... but I think I like him!”

Both Bob and Sandra had a low-key sense of humor. I guess it takes humor, among other things, to keep two people together for more than 60 years. When we would run into the Westons at some function, I'd kiss Sandra on the cheek, and Bob would run over and kiss Annie. His question was: why do you shake MY hand, and kiss my wife? If you want it the other way around, shave first, then we'll talk.

Something I hold dear came when we had the vow renewal party with about 50 people attending.

Bob came over to me, and said, “Come outside I want to show you something.”

We walked to the car and there sat Sandra, big smile, big hug and kiss. She said she came to wish us a happy anniversary. That was very emotional for me. If you know Sandy, you know that was an effort, and not easy. She made the trip out of love.

When I met this Weston guy. the 3rd Ward alderman, who would complete 16 years, win eight elections, in a Republican county. I was stunned. I knew politicians personally, but a sweet alderman?

I asked Bob: why so sweet? You’re a politician, you need more vinegar and less sugar.

He said, “Al, you have enough vinegar for both of us. How would it look if an alderman paved his own street?”

I gave Bob a nickname, just between us. I called him “Sugartooth,” because when he spoke to me he made my teeth hurt. I told him all the old timers did what he wouldn’t — they paved and plowed their streets, and sometimes driveways. He had the worse street in the city. They weren’t pot holes, they were sink holes.

If he ever paved that street, he would lose all car mechanics votes. No more replaced tie rods, ball joints, mufflers. Neighbors on this street would love him even more without dangling mufflers. But, Sugartooth must have done something right. He had won eight elections in a Republican county.

You do get more votes with sugar, but with Bob it wasn’t saccharine, it was real stuff.

There was only one Bob Weston.

I believe there should be something named after Bob Weston. He dedicated more than 16 years to Fulton. He personally took charge of many programs, charitable clubs and jobs dedicated to its citizens. He always gave his time to us asking a question, and he listened with earnestness. Old timers had the honors with buildings named after them, and schools, streets, programs, all named after longtime office holders. Give the people a choice, it’s their love that will make it happen.

Now that I’m four score and two  years, I stopped counting lost love ones after it reached 50. Whenever another goes away, I lose a little part of me.

There is a saying in my old neighborhood: “Nice guys always finish last.” Not Bob, he came in number one with me.

Bob Weston filled his dash well. It’s not what a man gathers here in this world, but what he leaves behind. He left us plenty. He left a mark on this city, and left all of us wanting a little of the Weston touch.

When Bob left us, I sent up a prayer asking the Lord to please don’t give the street paving job to Weston. Jesus promised us there were many mansions in our new home He called Heaven. He said we have plenty of precious metals in Our Father’s House.

In front of the Weston Mansion, We will install a solid 24-karat gold street.

—Al Squiteri

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