CLASS OF 1966


ROBERT LIVINGSTON JOHNSON III

    

 

Rob lost his two-year- long battle with cancer on July 7, 2017.


He grew up in suburban Philadelphia and Greenwich, Connecticut, and graduated from Haverford School in Pennsylvania, where he played soccer, basketball, and lacrosse. At Princeton he majored in history, belonged to Cloister Inn, and played freshman soccer. He roomed with John Goodrich and Michael Robinson.


After Princeton Rob earned a law degree at University of Texas, moved to Houston, and embarked on a commercial real estate law career that he pursued into his seventies. He was active in the ManKind Project: Men’s Community for the 21 st Century, an organization dedicated to assisting men in achieving their full potential.


A loyal alumnus, Rob served as president of the Princeton Alumni Association of Houston and sported a tiger head tattoo. Health concerns could not keep him from attending our Fiftieth Reunion.


Rob is survived by his wife Patricia, sons Robert IV and Clark, daughter Meredith Vreeland, stepson Will Holland-Freed, and six grandchildren. The Class extends its heartfelt condolences to them. We share their sorrow, and we will miss Rob.


The photos below show: 1) Graduation (with Rob Johnson, Mike Robinson, Tom Greacen, and John Goodrich), and 2) A favorite photo sent by Rob's wife Pat. Some classmate memories and a slide show follows the photos.


 

    

 

Slide show photos from John Goodrich. You can pause by hovering over the photos. Refresh the screen if the slide show doesn't play.



Classmate Memories

Carl Feldbaum

Somehow during our freshman year Rob and I got into a habit of fast-drawing on each other whenever we happened to see the other on some university path or Prospect St.

To be clear, this draw was done as though we were gunslingers-but with only our extended index finger and thumb. Of course, we 66'ers grew up with Roy Rodgers, Gene Autry and Hopalong Cassidy, so it seemed to make sense at the moment, especially since Rob and I authentically hailed from the West-West Philadelphia.

This encounter occurred over the next four, then forty years at any moment Rob saw me or I saw him. Rob would shout Carl! if he saw me first. Or I would yell Rob! And one of us would be shot dead in that particular High Noon moment.

Rob and I talked about our fast-draw habit once, maybe it was our 30th or 40th reunion, can't recall. What I can recall is that we greatly enjoyed it, but could make no sense of how or why it began or continued.

We'll miss Rob-who was a straight shooter and a great guy.