Robert D. Ford

Robert “Bob” Ford was born in Washington, D.C. in 1959. His father worked for the State Department, which was elemental in Bob’s lifelong love of the nobler side of politics. Life in the diplomatic corps led him all over the world as a child, his father’s stations having included the Netherlands, Korea, Malaya (now Malaysia), and England. His time in England between the ages of nine and fourteen especially informed his world view, which included the presumption of good faith, good judgment and goodwill in leadership. He applied those principles throughout his life, as anyone who knew him will attest. Before we go much further, we must remark another chief driver in Bob’s life, and that was comedy. How droll he would hear words “Bob is survived by.” We substitute instead here a brief list of the people he has beaten to the punchline. They include his partner Ginny Davis, sister Maryka Ford, brother William Ford and his wife, Joan, brother John Ford and his wife, Maggie, son Kieran Ford, daughter MacAeda Ford, and son Elias Ford. He is predeceased by…nah. The ones who beat Bob to the punchline included his father William Ford, mother Barbara Ford and his brother Richard Ford. Bob’s mother was from Concord and as his father globetrotted, there was always a permanent New Hampshire address. In the mid-seventies, the family located to Hampton, and Bob attended Winnacunnet High School. So began a decades-long love of the New Hampshire seacoast along with a vigorous debauching of it. After studying philosophy at UNH, he came the conclusion that he should participate in a cultural revolution that was happening in cities and small towns across the US. Gigantic bands like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Yes were ceding their prominence to garage and punk bands like The Sonics, The Monomen and The Lyres. Bob’s first piece of that pie was Ghandi’s Lunchbox, a project he created with his chief music-making partner throughout his life, vocalist Tom Colletta. Tom was Bob’s muse and his friend, and that association opened up tremendous possibilities for Bob’s writing. Tom’s vocal range was endless, so Bob could write with that in mind. The body of work is partially recorded, and it is astonishing. What happened to Ghandi’s Lunchbox is what happens to most rock bands. It died a horrible, painful death with hurt feelings, lost money and damaged eardrums. Bob wanted to injure more people in that same way, so he formed Jupiter 2, which ended up being Bob’s pet project for thirty years. It was important for Bob to have a demanding arts project in the works at all times, as absent the distraction he was prone to accidents that, as he said, “included fork-splitting my balls after mistaking them for Thomas’ English muffins.” He was a beloved provider of private home care for mentally handicapped clients and worked for years at Ceres Street Bakery. He was naturally gifted with graphics and understanding computer networks and worked in a variety of information technology applications. It is really tempting to post here some of his image manipulations, but there might be children present. We would be remiss in not mentioning Bob’s friends. Lots and lots of friends. Bob’s friends were his family. The music community of Portsmouth and surrounding towns suffered a crushing blow, yes, but believe me, we loved him more than we did his songs. We loved his heart, his soul, his humor and his love and we will miss all of it. All services are private.

Robert D. Ford

February 24, 1959 - June 3, 2024