Jefferson County Online A part of the IAGenWeb and USGenWeb Projects Who's Who in 1921 & 1922 Robert Bruce Gobble

"The Fairfield Tribune"
Thursday, September 8, 1921
Page SIX

NO. 28

ROBERT BRUCE GOBBLE

If the apostles of the early twentieth century write and leave for posterity a Bible they may be a bit shy on facts concerning a modern Messiah, and they will probalby be unable to give us any authenticated miracle stories about loaves and fishes, walking on the water, and the like, but they'll be provided with a real Samson, although there be no Delilah to cut his hair and no pillars of the temple for him to pull down.

We refer to one Robert Bruce Gobble, compared with whom the Samson of Bible times was an anemic weakling and his strongman stunts mere piker affairs. Had our local hero lived in Biblical times he probably would have picked up the pillars which Samson pulled down, put them in place and restored the temple, and then proceded to give that playful barber-cheating gentleman a good lacing.

Robert Bruce Gobble began his career of strength at an early age. Born in the very heart of the city of Bogus (its residents all (sic - call) the town Abingdon and will fight for recognition of the name), he developed the pugnatious instinct of the village an hour after birth by doubling up his fists and shaking them in the face of the nurse and doctor. As he grew in years, so also he grew in strength and combativeness. When he was ten he had whipped every boy in the village except a wiry, red-headed kid; he fought this kid every week for nearly two years ,and (sic) took a weekly whipping at home for doing it, before he made the red-head "holler 'nuff". It was a mighty humdrum monotonous day in the Abingdon school when the teacher didn't give Bruce Gobble a licking. Finally Bruce's parents moved him to Fairfield where there was a more peaceful atmosphere.

Bruce came near to being president of the Burlington railroad. Soon after he came here he got a job on the section. Pa and Ma gobble weren't over-enthusiastic about it, but reconciled themselves to the move when they read of so many other railroad presidents who learned the railroad business by beginning on the section. They had visions of a private car for themselves in which they could go to see the folks back in Virginia and distribute annual passes to them just as freely as cigaret papers.

"After all, it may not be so bad to be parents of a railroad president," they reflected.

Run along two or three years and Bruce didn't seem to be making much headway toward the road's presidency. In fact, he acquired the most approved "section-move," and could easily put in twenty minutes lacing a shoe. Parental decree ended any railroad presidency aspirations he may have had. Bruce went to school. He got along well enough there because none of his teachers were big enough to handle him. Then Bruce went to Parsons college, and the world commenced to hear something about athletics at Parsons for the first time. Bruce joined the tennis club but they kicked him out because he kept knocking the balls over into the waterworks pond. He went on the baseball team and broke all the bats. There were ten others on the football team when he joined it; after the first game the coach told all but two of the others they wouldn't be needed. Bruce won his games with touchdowns exclusively; faculty stopped him from kicking goals--said it disturbed the girls to have a football come sailing through the dormitory windows, and the trustees kicked on having so many window panes broken.

Oh, yes, Robert Bruce distinguished himself in athletics, all right, when at school. But he brought everlasting disgrace on the whole Gobble clan when he was twenty-one and cast his first vote. Actually voted the republican ticket. The family has been doing the best it can ever since to live down the disgrace.

Bruce is something of a gardener, tinkers around in his garden a good part of the spring and summer. Visit it and you'll find virtually the whole plot growing onions. Bruce is over-fond of them because they're so strong, he says.

When the new county fair directors held a meeting and were naming officers for different positions they were a bit up against it for a good man to handle the concessions.

"It's an important place and we need a strong man for it," Secretary Ross was saying.

"I nominate Bruce gobble," shouted President Gilbert. "He's the strongest man I know of."

As you may have noticed, Bruced proved to be a pretty strong man on the job, too.

Bruce's prodigious strength is well known and conceded, yet there is a very peculiar feature of it that in the spring it vanishes. Around housecleaning time he is a mere weakling and, according to his wife, his little boy can beat him all to pieces at beating a rug. Bruce loves to teach the boy to exercise his muscles in that way.

From this you may gather that Robert Bruce Gobble is something of a Sandow. He is. He has a big, healthy interest in all things athletic. When he goes to the circus he sends the family on in, then gets himself a ticket to the sideshows and stays there to watch the strong man perform. Makes it rather annoying for the family around home for a few days after that because Bruce has a habit of picking up the kitchen range and the piano and juggling them over his arms and around his neck.

However, unlike the Samson of old, Robert Bruce Gobble's strength hasn't all gone to his arms--he's got a lot of it in his head. And he uses it when occasion demands. Pretty hard for a diseased or weak mind to find refuge in a strong, healthy body--and Robert Bruce has the strong, healthy body. And Bruce puts that strength of his to good use, too--always doing something or other for the community. And even though he doesn't feel well at housecleaning time--well, who likes to beat rugs, anyway?