by Fred Moleck

Batastini Winter Round-up

Last Sunday night in the Hyatt Regency Hotel near Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, some 140 Batastini-ites rounded themselves up and came for dinner to honor Bob Batastini as he retires after forty years of work at GIA Publications

The outdoor temperature was subzero, but the inside temperature soared to ninety-plus. The heating system was all right.

The heat surge was created by the party guests who came to dinner.

The outpouring of love, respect, honor, praise, and thanksgiving created a lovefest whose warmth and heat of passion for Bob and everything he represents surpassed the arctic blasts outside.

Guests came as far as Portland, Oregon, and as close as Wrigleyville. (Chicago Cubs fans know that Wrigleyville is the area around Wrigley Field.)

Alec Harris, Michael McMahon, James Abbington, David Batastini (son of Bob) Father Bob Oldershaw, Kelly Dobbs Mickus, and myself shared our histories with life with Bob.

This portion of storytelling was capped with Ed Harris presenting a plaque bearing the message:

Presented to
Robert J. Batastini
February 10, 2008
from your GIA family

In recognition of
and deepest gratitude for
forty years of
extraordinary leadership
and distinguished service
to GIA Publications

October 1, 1967 to October 1, 2007

Jubilate Deo omnis terra.
Servite Domino in laetitia.

In everyone’s story the word passion emerged over and over—Bob’s passion for good food, Bob’s passion for good wine, Bob’s passion for good music, Bob’s passion for good friends, Bob’s passion for all of us there.

. . . And Bob’s passion for a “Good Church,” which praises God better than it did before BC (before Bob), for a “Good Church” that sings better without carpeting and with a pipe organ, for a “Good Church” whose music can carry the mysterium tremendum of the presence of the risen Jesus, whose life is renewed every time that church gathers to give thanks and praise.

There were lots of hugs and kisses, lots of laughs, lots of tears, lots of words—words said in humor with love framing them. Words said in praise. Today, they are words that ring through my ears while forging one of my pinnacle experiences at GIA.

These words will linger after the dreaded lake effect snow loosens in the spring and the frozen shores of Lake Michigan thaw. These words will be like newly discovered family pictures, which will carry incredible warmth—all for Bob.

Antisthenes says that in a certain far away land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and, after some time, thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer.
—Plutarch (c. 46–c. 120), Moralia

You can reach Fred Moleck via email at fmoleck@comcast.net

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