On a clear night under a star-filled sky, Dad
peacefully left this world. Bobcat, as he was affectionately known,
was surrounded by his adoring family in his home in Old Wethersfield,
Conn., where he lived for 58 years. Family was an enduring presence
and his priority. Bob was kind, grateful, offered thoughtful guidance
and had extraordinary grace. He was 91.

Born to Edith and
John Montstream in Garden City, N.Y., he was due on November 1 —
All Saints’ Day. But instead, he arrived a day early, on Halloween,
and was proud to say he was a goblin. His Swedish grandparents came
to the United States in the 1890s as Bergstroms, but they soon
translated the name to Montstream. (Bergstrom means “mountain
stream.”)

Growing up in Garden City, he would ride his
bike nine miles to the ocean and start his swim season on May 1, in
the cold sea. He taught his family to respect the ocean by counting
waves and observing currents and to never turn your back on the surf.
His love for salt water and sailing started then. As a child, every
Saturday afternoon he would retreat to his bedroom to listen to the
opera broadcast live from the Metropolitan Opera House.

Bob
graduated from Wesleyan University in 1954 with a degree in
biochemistry. In 1956, he enlisted in the U.S. Army, which he called
“Uncle Sam’s Touring Club.” He liked to say, “The
military is an experience you couldn’t buy for a million dollars or
sell for a dime.” He was stationed in La Rochelle,
France.

Months before he left for France, he fell in love
with a Connecticut College student while on a double date. He and
Amalie “Ami” Hughes started a long-distance courtship that
soon turned into an engagement. When Dad left for France, they made a
pact for her to join him and marry in La Rochelle. So Mom boarded a
small student ship in 1956 to meet Dad. Partway through the journey,
a Swedish ship put out an SOS signal when one of its sailors needed
medical attention. Since Mom’s ship had a doctor on board, it changed
course and went to assist. Meanwhile, the Andrea Doria, a luxury
transatlantic ship, collided with a freighter and sank. Mom’s boat
was delayed, and Dad had no information on which ship went down. Dad
was AWOL as he waited for days, not knowing if Ami would ever arrive.
Finally, her ship pulled in, and Bob returned to the base with his
bride-to-be, only to be assigned to dig ditches for days as his
punishment for not returning to base on time.

Bob and Ami
were married on August 4, 1956, and moved into married housing to
start their life together. When Dad had days off, they traveled
through Europe camping and purchasing antique treasures from
collectors in the countryside.

Returning to the U.S., Bob
sold health insurance and applied to law school, where he was
accepted at the University of Connecticut for night classes. But when
his boss learned he was attending law school, he got a “punishment
transfer” to San Francisco. Not one to be slowed down, Bob enrolled
in night classes at the University of San Francisco School of Law.
During this time, he negotiated a multimillion-dollar plan with a
provision to include preexisting conditions and pregnancies. This was
the largest sale by his company, a plan which still exists today.
Nevertheless, when his boss discovered that he was attending law
school, he was transferred again, this time to Phoenix, Ariz. With no
law school there, they did not stay long. Bob, Ami, 1-year-old
Katharine and their cat drove to Hartford, Conn., where he reenrolled
in the UConn Law School. There, Bob attended both daytime classes and
night school until he graduated in 1964. Walter was born just before
graduation. With Ami caring for the two kids and Dad in school full
time, there was little income. They lived in Charter Oak Terrace, a
project in the north end of Hartford, where subsidized rent was just
$25 per month.

In 1965, the family bought a house across
from a park in Old Wethersfield, Conn. Although the house needed
serious repair, they took on the challenge. In a true labor of love,
they worked tirelessly for many years to fix up the 1790s home and
landscaped the yard with the beautifully installed rock walls and
gardens. Bob loved to salvage big stones from the brownstone homes
that were being bulldozed in Hartford. On Saturday mornings, he would
arrive at demolition sites with a trailer, a come-along, winches,
crowbars and logs. To her delight, Katharine walked away from
Saturday morning cartoons and joined her dad to help click the winch
to move the chained rocks inch by inch. Today, the property is filled
with handsome stone walls, benches, patios and slate with brick
walkways — all built by Bob. Their third child, Sydney, was born in
1968.

In the early 1970s, Bob started his own law practice
as a defense litigator. His briefcase and Dictaphone were never far
from his side. After a 25-year career, he stayed on theme with his
Halloween birthday and retired from his firm, Montstream & May,
on Friday the 13th — December 13, 1996. He loved lawyer jokes and
happily surprised people when he’d say they were all true.

When
it comes to passions, Bob had many: skiing, birding, biking, sailing
and dog walks while wearing his Sherlock Holmes hat. His passion for
bird-watching led to daily bike excursions with binoculars around his
neck, a bird book in his back pocket, donning his 1970s bike helmet.
More recently, he rode his stationary bike multiple times per day,
aiming to “get to celery” — the green zone when one exceeds
10,000 steps daily. His longest “celery” streak was 34 days,
which ended on September 24.

Happiest on the slopes, Bob
always made time for skiing. Every flake had him grinning in
anticipation to get up the mountains to ski with his father at Jiminy
Peak and stay at the New York Ski Club cabin in Berlin, N.Y. Starting
on a weighty rope tow, he taught his children and Ami to ski. The
kids loved it, and every weekend throughout the winters was spent on
the slopes — rain, blizzards or ridiculously cold temperatures
never discouraged them. “A bad day on the slopes is better than a
good day at the office” was his motto.

Bob was a
celestial navigator, learning how to use the stars and a sextant to
safely sail anywhere from Nova Scotia to Cape Cod with his best
friend, Phil. In 1976, he took his family on a sailing adventure to
Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard and Cuttyhunk. While some of the
family members suffered from seasickness and thought this was the
worst trip ever, the girls delighted in every minute: the adventure
on the open sea, sleeping below, jumping off the boat and helping set
the anchor.

No one made a better Caesar salad than Bobcat,
and he was quick to share his recipe. It took him years of careful
observation to perfect it. There was a restaurant in Hartford that
made the Caesar salad at your table, but they wouldn’t share the
recipe. Bob was not dissuaded. He would observe the portions, the
ingredients, and ask a different question each time. “What kind of
olive oil are you using?” After a few years, he perfected it, and
his lucky family and friends were the recipients of many delightful
Caesar salads. Request the recipe — we will share.

Bobcat
had five grandchildren and never missed a chance to watch their
soccer games, cheer at a track meet, and attend graduations and
concerts. Trick-or-treating was high on his list of fun things to do
with the kids, so every year his Halloween birthday was spent in
costume with the kids, roaming the neighborhoods for candy. Being 100
percent Swedish, his Viking costume was a favorite.

Bob’s
family and friends knew him for his joyful smile and his bright blue
eyes. He was the most supportive dad, and no one could make a friend
out of a stranger faster than Bob. Anytime it felt like the wheels
might come off, Dad would give us confidence by calmly stating,
“It’ll happen.” At 91, the parade of loving family and friends
who visited him while he was in hospice care was very moving. He
openly expressed his love for each of them. In his last weeks he
shared, “Now I’m just trying to hang on to congratulate those
around me — for all they’ve done and what they’ll do in the
future.” Bobcat never missed a chance to say, “I’m so proud of
you,” “That’s terrific!” or “I love you.”

Bobcat
is survived by his bride of 67 years, Amalie Maxon Hughes Montstream
of Wethersfield; their three children and families: Katharine
Montstream, her husband, Alan Dworkshak, and their children,
Charlotte, Torsten and Sylvie, all of Burlington, Vt.; Walter
Montstream and his dog Wyatt of Hebron, Conn.; Sydney Montstream-Quas
and her husband, Michael Quas, of Barrington, R.I., and their
children, Adeline and Maxon; his brother, John Montstream, his wife,
Marion, and great-nieces Christie Maether and Lyndsey Germano, all of
Rochester, N.Y.; his sister-in-law Gini Hughes Anslinger of Altoona,
Pa.; his nephew Jim Montstream and husband Mike Schiele of
Burlington, Vt.; his cousin, Jan Larkin, of West Hartford, Conn.; and
his “adopted” son, Eduardo Lex, and his wife, Diana, of
Colchester, Conn. He was predeceased by his nephew Johnny Montstream
of Rochester, N.Y.

A Halloween-themed celebration for
Bobcat will be held in Old Wethersfield at the Kenney Memorial
Cultural Center on Sunday, December 17, 4-7 p.m. Costumes are
encouraged, and friendly goblins are kindly invited.

In
lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to the Intervale Center,
180 Intervale Rd., Burlington, VT 05401
(intervale.org/donate)
or to Spectrum Youth and Family Services, 31 Elmwood Ave.,
Burlington, VT 05401
(spectrumvt.org).