Remembering one of the best
Robert L Fraser
1968 - 2019
We lost a local legend this past fall. Beloved husband, father, son, brother, uncle, friend, coach, and more...Rob left us to join the Baseball Gods on October 19th, 2019.
So much can be said about the person Rob was, but there may be no better demonstration of that than the posts on social media following his death. Best coach ever, great mentor, amazing human being. He taught kids how to play the right way. He taught Dads how to coach the right way. He was respected by every opponent he ever played or coached against. And he was the coach that every umpire hoped to get when they got their tournament schedule. While his influence was centered in Whitinsville, he had a memorable and positive impact everywhere he went.
This site and the memorial fund were created to honor his memory.
Thank you for visiting, and please always keep Rob's post from last year's Tosches golf outing in mind....reach out to those you have lost touch with....don't let too much time go in between calls and visits...time flies by.....
About the Memorial Fund
The purpose of the memorial fund is to provide support for Rob’s family, and to give back to the community where Rob had such an impact. While still in the early stages, our goal is to hold one or two events every year to keep Rob with us and to give back to the community in his name.
If you'd like to be on our mailing list, please fill out the contact us page.
The Fund can receive donations in two ways:
Rob Fraser Memorial Fund
c/o Milford Federal Bank
1271 Providence Road
Whitinsville, MA 01588
I always thought we'd look back at our childhood together, maybe when I turned 50 or he turned 60 or one of us turned 70. And that we would laugh at the bad haircuts and the toughskin jeans and the fact that we wore our socks up to our knees. That we'd argue about which 80's bands and songs and movies were the best of all time. That we'd find humor in how naive we were as teenagers. But also we'd recognize how lucky we were to be born when we were, and to have parents like we had, and to grow up in the neighborhood we grew up in, and to have the unconditional love that surrounded us. You never think about this stuff in the present because you always think you'll look back together when you're older, later, another time. But now I have to look back alone and for that I am beyond sad.
He was my first friend. I didn't know it at the time, but I see now that I looked up to him from my earliest days. Maybe it's universal that little brothers just follow big brothers, but as I look back I see how much I followed him....how much I wanted to be like him. He was a role model from the day I was born. He wasn't perfect, but he was darn close. I remember wanting what he wanted for Christmas. I remember liking the same Bruins and Red Sox players that he liked. I remember our Temple Street neighborhood....trying to keep up with him playing street hockey and kick-the-can and backyard baseball and staying out until the street lights came on. I remember playing Intellivision baseball for hours and hours - and yes, Rob kept a score book for every game and stats for every imaginary line-up. And of course, he kept a neat book even back then.
I remember following 2 years behind him in school and pretty much every teacher telling me that I had enormous shoes to fill (I never came close and most of them enjoyed reminding me of that).
I remember him giving me a job even when he didn't need any help. It probably hurt him financially at the time but it's who he was....he would over-extend himself to help anyone he could.
I remember one of the great families in Milford having a terrible scare when their youngest son was burned very seriously. And Rob running to his truck in the parking lot the minute he found out to give me a check to help them out during an incredibly stressful time. He didn't think about it, he just sprung into action because he wanted to help.
They say to remember the joy, the laughter, and the smiles. Here are a few things I'll never forget:
His smile, and his never-ending optimistic outlook.
His ability to pull a movie quote from 30 years ago and use it to either lighten a moment to or make it even funnier.
His line drives. They were like Ivan Lendl serves, no 3rd baseman or SS had a chance.
His homeruns. They were like Jack Clark moonshots over the green monster that had a hang time measured in minutes.
His golf shoes. Arguably the worst looking shoes ever worn on a golf course, with laces so old they barely could be tied. I look back and wish that was my birthday gift to him every few years, they were that terrible.
His physical strength. It was ridiculous but also deceptive, he didn’t look like Hulk Hogan, but he could lift walls and swing a hammer like Thor.
His coaching. It was the envy of everyone who knew him, whether in the same dugout, the opposing dugout, or behind the plate.
His humility. He had no clue how smart he was, how well-respected he was, or how important he was.
Maybe most of all, his pride in his family. How he adored Pam, and how he glowed when talking about his kids. He was happy. And I'm not sure anyone can ask for anything more than that.
A guy like Rob should have lived to be 100. Because the world needs more people like him.