Stephen Runng Dear Nila, Nico, and community; At this late hour I wish to express thanks for inclusion in this memorial process for Bruce. The day of the gathering definitely had the desired effect and lifted me out of the "what if" and "could've done more" mindsets that bedeviled me after Bruce's passing. I was impressed with the articulation of affection, passion, and humor that followed Bruce through the world. I'm now remembering the many moments of inflection when he would respond to a quip with a pause, a tilt of his head and turn of his neck and deliver the retort. I remember his presence, not the details. But there some memories that are appropriate here, at a lower level of intimacy than what was shared at the memorial. I would categorize it as a more casual story-telling event. My wife Karen and I have been the next door uphill neighbors to Bruce, Nila, and Nico since they arrived on Anderson St. in Bernal Heights. As such, we've had some contact in that regard, and this segues into something that many others addressed -- house painting. We removed old asbestos shingles on the property-line-facing wall and had to then prep and paint so I asked Bruce for his advice, consent, and color, since he would see the wall. What I received was a tutorial on Benjamin Moore Paints, right down to the chemistry, that sets it above other brands. Again, I don't remember those details, but I believe he said he had worked in that technical department for BM. He was certainly authoritative. (His old rudimentary mixing equipment was still in his garage the last time I was in there). I do recall specifically his admonition, "the lighter the color, the longer it lasts." True enough. Karen and I "lightened up" and painted more of our house with BM and a second building, and are really pleased. It made things so simple to have those basic decisions resolved in advance. In that sense, Bruce's painting career still graces the cityscape (and his yard). Another legacy may yet play out, albeit accidentally and second-hand. I was dimly aware of Bruce's rail history, and a friend of mine in Dunsmuir (a two-track Southern Pacific rail town on the I-5 corridor) lives a block from a crossing where the freights stop to handle things in the yard about a quarter mile up the tracks, or roll at a speed of a brisk jog. He told me that was going to hop one of these and go on an adventure. I decided to talk to Bruce and get some data to discourage my friend. I think Bruce and Nila were at dinner with us the night I heard his whole story. As noted at the memorial, the individual integrity of the men stands out. I knew this on some level already. It floored me to hear that the men considered themselves responsible for the cargo and the schedule, and that the companies did too -- a partnership in self-policing security! Well, my report to my friend had the complete opposite effect from discouragement. He has been joined by another friend, an Irishwoman, in this endeavor. Just last Saturday, as we crossed the SP tracks in Anderson, Ca., he said, "I'm gonna take the train down here." They're doing their due diligence. In hindsight, something that strikes me about Bruce is how he got things done without a great deal of tools. We worked on gutters, a fence, a sump pump, heating, etc. and I would look around and remark to myself that this man is a minimalist. And yet, here we were at the next-generation repair of things he had installed some time ago. One of my specific memories of real-time work was a chimney leak that had developed on his house and one night it reached a crisis during the start of a rain. My house has a flat roof and was a natural way to get onto his pitched roof. I have a folding ladder through the ceiling and to a roof hatch, and Bruce called to go up there and over the peak of his pitched roof to seal the chimney. (I'm trying not to romanticize this.) Effectively, I sent him up through the hatch into the rainy night with a stick and a small pail of goop -- no light, no gear. He was up there a long time. When he came down I asked him if he got it, and he said firmly that he had. I never heard another word about it, and to this day I have never looked up there to see the size or the position of that chimney on the steep pitch. he got it done. I'll end this reflection with something I wasn't aware of until I reflected at the memorial -- that he gave me a nickname. After I resigned from my company in 2018, I never slowed down, with home, volunteering, and some light commercial work. One day early on, he said, "Steve, you're the hardest-working retired guy I've ever seen." And so it is. I wear his badge of honor. With warm regard, Stephen Runng
7 days ago

Donovan Santos Hello Nila and Nico - this is Donovan, aka “Spree.” I worked with Bruce at SFGH for all 23 years he was there. Bruce was my friend, we just always felt at ease with each other. I’ve said much of this at his celebration but I know how meaningful written words can be for the family. I’m known as being o vey quiet person, introverted. The last time I spoke in public was 16 years ago when my brother passed away. Nila - I know you were sending me messages about possibly speaking, but I didn’t know if I could pull it off, I have a lot of anxiety in social situations and especially with public speaking. I didn’t say no because I really wanted to; I wanted to honor Bruce and his family. But once I was up there it got easier and I spoke from the heart. Bruce was a quiet guy at work - he never bad mouthed anyone. He preferred to prep for his day - mostly in solitude. This is not to say he wasn’t social, but he was focused and thoughtful about how he utilized his time. The one thing he didn’t like though was having to wear those Caribbean blue scrubs. He always changed back into his regular clothes for lunch, and then back into scrubs post-lunch. It was quirky yet charming, and I would get a kick out of it. At staff meetings, Bruce and I just naturally hung out together in the back. He and I didn’t like any spotlight, and avoided the bureaucracy that general has. I said previously that we never planned lunches together but later I remembered he invited me to Jacks to watch the SF Giants in the 2010 World Series at lunchtime - we watched a game or 2 together. Jacks was a corner bar across the street from the parking garage, it was a new gentrified name that had a New Orleans menu but I still call it Jacks. I think we had po’boy sandwiches and delighted in watching Lincecum pitch. But most often, I’d walk into J&E and Bruce would say “Spree” as he peered over the top of the SF chronicle. We’d sit together, chat it up a bit, and it was just easy - we respected and understood that quietness was okay. He spoke fondly of both Nila and Nico, he was obviously in love with both of you, and I loved that about him. As an Aide, I see every therapist in their element. Bruce connected with patients like very few can. He was smart, wise, empathetic, patient, and curious. Some people feign empathy and curiosity but Bruce truly cared for all people. He was interested in their care and their stories. He sprinkled in some of his own stories and humor, this charm helped him gain comfort from his patients - they would do more with him because they trusted and liked Bruce. Sometimes Bruce would share an especially interesting case with me, and would call me to help him, less because he needed the help, but more so that I could share the experience with him. Bruce treated ALL with respect and dignity. He also took patients to the outside garden more than most therapists. We all know the sunshine and fresh air is good for the soul but that excursion can be time consuming, but Bruce went the extra mile very often. Bruce always treated me with respect, we were just comfortable with each other, it was effortless. The experience of divorce and separation from my daughter was tough on me. I felt very wronged and shared the story with Bruce. He said simply, “I’m sorry Spree, you didn’t deserve that.” It was simple but was just heartfelt empathy, and that was all I needed at that moment. It comforted me. It’s true that I walk past Bruce’s hallway etching to say hi to him. When I shared the sad news of his passing, many said, he’s a great guy, a legend: Hearing all the stories about Bruce was remarkable- he lived such an inspiring and interesting life. His celebration of life was amazing, you guys just did such a beautiful job. I loved seeing his shirts and hats on the wall, just a striking and impactful touch. The location was stunning and finding out you got married there was so heartwarming, just so touching. I’m honored to have been a part of the day. I miss and love Bruce very much. I wasn’t able to attend his retirement after party because I was sick with Covid at the time, I’ve always been sad about that. I loved having him in my fantasy football league, it helped keep us connected. Thank you for sharing the day with me. I really loved learning so much more about Bruce, he was just remarkable. He helped thousands of people, including myself. Love, Donovan aka Spree.
7 days ago

Geoffrey Sze I met Bruce at SF General back in 2018/2019, he was one of the first person I would meet there. Whether it was stories about commercial fishing in Alaska or his work with children with disabilities, Bruce lived a life that felt like a movie. ​I’ll never forget his retirement during COVID. We were told not to gather, but for Bruce? Everyone showed up anyway. He was well loved at the hospital. ​Miss you, Bruce. I miss the fantasy football talk and the life lessons. See you down the road. Picture is from the happy hour.
8 days ago

Andrew Abrahams What a beautiful slide show and tribute! I loved getting to peer into Bruce's adventurous life and to see him as his younger self--and OMG Nico looks just like him when he was a boy. Bruce's beautiful, warm soul shine here. Thank you Nila and Nico for sharing him with us in this way. He is sorely and deeply missed!
15 days ago

Steve McConnell The kitchen at 1818 McAllister St when Joe Lambert and I moved in. L>R: Eric, Bruce, Michael, Cathy
16 days ago

Bob Fitzpatrick Hey Bruce. Discovering the new world of San Francisco with you and our housemates, friends and co-adventurers made a foundation that helped me find adventure, inspiration and friendship where I roamed. We had so much fun and I am lucky I got to ride with you for a while. Look forward to our next adventure together. In the meantime, I’ll hold close the good memories which are a blessing.
16 days ago

Laura Batistich Emilio and I were very sorry to hear of Bruce’s passing - much too soon. As others have told, the loss hits hard as we all shared some formative years arriving in SF right out of college, full of energy and adventure. Bruce was one of the ‘originals’ who welcomed us with open arms and a couch to crash on if needed when we rolled up in our VW bus. I treasure the memories and lifelong friendships from those days. Always a warm presence, seeing Bruce and Nila at Lou’s xmas party was an annual treat (loved the bright red holiday vest he often wore). Thinking of you, Nila. Sending hugs
17 days ago

JOE LAMBERT I was lucky to know and hang out with Bruce both at Tufts and in San Francisco. We had many great times together but I guess the best ones would be where, now, the details are forgotten. When not much really happened and we would just be hanging out. He had that quintessential California laid back attitude that was contagious. however I do remember one day/night in particular. He had just arrived back to San Francisco from one of his summer fishing trips to Alaska and brought back to the gang of friends at Fulton street a WHOLE BUNCH of salmon. I have no idea how he got it all back with him. I mean we had a huge dinner party that night probably more than 15 people and there were leftovers. The only downside was that the cat (poopsie) got into the garbage and must of either ate too much or got into the bones but she did not last the week (sorry Ia'). Anyway, now I live on the east coast and haven't seen him in a while but will surely miss that smile.
17 days ago

Andrea Peabbles When I met Bruce after we each migrated westward in the 1980s post-college, he was a calm presence at our indulgent parties on Fulton Street. His focused gaze and good listening abilities, however, concealed his adventurous spirit within. One summer while many of us toiled away in the city, he headed to the wilds of Alaska to work on a boat (then shared enough of his catch for many friends to enjoy at another gathering). Frank recalls when, shortly after his arrival from quiet Maine, he accompanied Bruce and Bill the Painter to an event on Mis sion Street that included cans and the local constabulary. . . . They had a great time. Bruce was not shy of traveling and now has gone to farther realms. I am sorry I haven’t seen him in decades but certainly learned from him and fondly recall his twinkling eyes and bright smile.
17 days ago

Carla Witt I met Bruce in the late 80s when I returned from Tufts to my native home, San Francisco. I will always remember his deep laugh and I noticed his laugh was contagious and made all around him smile. He was a house painter and fisherman at the time and I think I was with him as he was getting in touch with his calling to help people. I went to Piña Palmera with him in ‘91 and Bruce made the kids faces light up. The kids’ smiles and laugh really made Bruce very happy. I think you can see that in this photo of Bruce and Malena. Many of the kids at Piña Palmera had disabilities and Bruce found his calling from watching these kids navigate their worlds and how therapy really gave the kids tools to be more independent and have fun. In addition to his deep laugh, Bruce had a big heart. When I met him, I was supporting my mother as she fought breast cancer. I will never forget his kindness and understanding. Then he totally suprised both my mother and me. He was quite a cook and he cooked my mom dinner just as a nice gesture. None of us really thought she would eat much as chemo suppressed her appetite. My mom was a French trained chef and chemo made her super finicky. My mom loved and devoured Bruce’s meal. Bruce was so happy that she truly enjoyed his meal and that in turn made Bruce smile ear to ear. Again it reaffirmed his calling to help people heal. Although I have only seen Bruce at Louis a few times over the years, but it was always nice to catch up with him. We lost a good guy way too early. I send my heartfelt condolences to Nila, Niko and the Staudts. Carla Fenton Witt
21 days ago