David Asai

Faculty colleague; fellow Caltech alum

Susie and Bob helped me get through some tough times one summer. While I was wrapped up in my personal woes, they were always there for me….to listen, to talk, never to judge or preach. Incredibly generous of their time.

That year, Bob and I had great fun in the wine tasting class at the LA County Fair. We sat there tasting the samples and declaring our deep insights about the bouquet and legs, the terroir and whether the wine was forward or coy. We knew very little and we knew we knew very little….and so it was good fun and a way to distract me and cheer me up for a short while.

To our great benefit, Susie was a volunteer at the wine judging event. Like Eddie in Steinbeck’s Cannery Row, Susie brought home the remains of many bottles. I don’t think Susie actually concocted a “punch” by mixing all of the leftovers together as Eddie would have, but her gifts made for a fun evening where we sat in the Cave’s back yard imbibing mysterious things.

And then there was The Cribbage Game. I assume many of the readers might have heard Bob’s version of this epic event. Here’s the truth: At the time, Bob was Dean ensconced in his office on the top floor of Sprague. One day—it might have been a weekend or a holiday because no one else was there—he invited me up so that we could complete together the mandatory online anti-harassment training…..and play a game of cribbage. I don’t really know much about cribbage, having only played it in Boy Scout summer camp many years before. Bob was the pro….he talked a good game, he had a board, and he knew how to play. But that day, in the one and only game we played, and the one and only game I’ve played in decades, I beat Bob. Didn’t just beat him. Didn’t just skunk him. I DOUBLE-skunked him. Whether or not he let me win that day, it was another example of Bob’s incredible selflessness and generosity.

Many years later, when Bob was a rotator at the NSF, Jeanne and I invited him to join us at a Nationals baseball game. We managed to get seats in the club area where the food is part of the deal. Even though the Yankees were not playing the Nats that day, Bob really enjoyed himself. Especially the hot dogs. When, in our typical LA fashion, Jeanne and I decided to depart around the seventh or eighth inning to beat the traffic, Bob asked if he could remain. Of course! My last memory of that day was to turn around and look back at Bob, happily engrossed in the game and with two more hot dogs on his plate.

I will miss Bob’s laugh and his friendship, his humility and his wisdom. I will miss sending him my annual birthday greeting on D-Day, and I will miss his inevitable reply that he is sorry that he forgot my birthday the day before his, knowing full well that my birthday is actually the day after his. Oh my stars! I will mis Bob Cave. Oh my stars, I am a better person for having known him.

Thomas Bleakney ’69

Friend

Well serving as dean of faculty Bob brought in some of the most amazing speakers for the fall lecture series that I’ve ever heard.

Despite his busy schedule he arranged to have lunch with me several times a year which was always a treat.

Once during an informal public discussion on climate, he turned to me and asked a question about climate chemistry. I was thrilled and honored because I knew the answer.

Steve Adolph

Colleague and friend

I treasure all the years that I worked with Bob when he was Dean and on committees. When I think of him I also remember the little things, like running into him at a Van Morrison concert. When our respective colleges played in the Rose Bowl we had a friendly bet that the loser had to wear the other team’s sweatshirt on the first day of spring semester. My college lost, but then Bob insisted on sparing me the indignity of wearing Michigan State apparel all day. He also brought a playful spirit to otherwise serious business, such as the time he and I sneaked a Grateful Dead reference into our formal promotion letter for our colleague Jon Jacobsen. While I miss Bob a lot, I try to focus on these happy memories.

Lelia Hawkins

Colleague

We miss you dearly, Bob. The department isn’t the same without you. It was Bob who got to offer me the position at HMC, and it was the beginning of my coming to understand him as someone who consistently made you feel good for just existing, even if that made his job (as dean, or fellow faculty member) harder. It is for this reason that I always peeked at his door when I walked by his office, just to see if he was there for a quick hello. He was caring and supportive, but also knew when his voice was most needed, in difficult times. I would be so grateful for one more day with him, one more laugh.

Eugene Wu ’98

Student

I always wanted to be Dr. Cave when I grew up. He was a magnificent teacher with a booming voice and a hearty laugh. Maybe I didn’t do too great in GQ&S, but I enjoyed every class with Dr. Cave. Even though Statistical Thermodynamics wasn’t required for the burgeoning “Emphasis in Biochemistry” concentration, I asked take it with Dr. Cave as an independent study. It was a great experience to talk science one on one with him. Only now that I’m a professor at a liberal arts college myself do I understand the time commitment he gave for one insignificant student. Well that student came back to interview for a job at Mudd a decade later while he was in the Dean’s Office. There’s nothing quite like interviewing at your alma mater with professors you looked up to for years. Dr. Cave put me right at ease, telling me to call him “Bob”, not Professor Cave or Dean Cave. I am honored to have known him as a student and to have called him Bob.