Robert Anthony Pletka

Dad was a Portland native who called this city home all his life. He and his older sister “Pat” were the only two children born to their parents, Benjamin and Katherine Pletka. His father was a Bohemian (Czech) who grew up in Cicero, Illinois. His mother was an Irish girl who started out in Superior, Wisconsin. Ben and “Kitty” met in Portland at a dance; and married each other during that special “roaring” year of 1920.

The family moved around in the Irvington and Alameda neighborhoods before finally settling down in a house on NE Hancock Street. Dad attended the Madeleine Grade School and Central Catholic High School and the University of Portland. He had fond memories of traveling east to visit the Bohemian relatives and see the Chicago World’s Fair of 1938.

Dad had various nicknames like “Putt” and “Rap” throughout his life. Now, of the two names we think he preferred much “Rap.” Also known as “rap-a-dap.”

He remembers not much liking to swim, as other boys did, but he could do a mean dog paddle as he quickly found out on an outing to the Tualatin River. Well, what choice do you have when you’re tossed in the river and told to “sink or swim?” As he told the story, while he was underwater his “life flashed before his eyes”, and he decided that he still had a lot of living to do.

Another adventure happened when Dad took a job as a teen walking greyhounds at the Multnomah Kennel Club. After he lead his dog to the starting gate just before the race, he would leave the track area by nimbly leaping over another gate and onto the green. This was an exit plan he had used before. But this time, as luck would have it, the gate was not locked tight, and Dad went flying through the air and landing on his backside. The crowd roared. They were greatly entertained.

Dad became acquainted with the family of his future wife while still in his teens. He made fast friends with Mary McDonald’s older brother Jim. Jim had three younger sisters who earned money in the berry fields during the summer. And one summer Dad bought his first car. The guys thought maybe the girls could use a ride home after a long hot day in the fields. But before they got to the fields, as the boys reached the top of a hill they decided to seek some cheap thrills by putting the car in neutral and coasting down to the bottom. Things didn’t quite work out as they planned…the car’s gears were stripped! And the girls took the bus home.

Years later, Dad did actually get the girl. After he graduated from the University of Portland, his girlfriend “Mary” became his wife of 60 years. After he was married, he faithfully took the bus mornings to work downtown at Portland General Electric. He drove a green Chevy to church on Sundays. His midlife crisis was purchasing a red motorcycle and riding it to a second job at Portland Meadows. One evening on the way to work he had a blowout on the freeway. A Good Samaritan in a pickup truck offered roadside assistance; took Dad to his job and even hauled the cycle into a repair shop.

Now you’d think by now that Dad must have had some special devotion to St. Christopher, the patron saint for travelers. Well, yes, he appreciated St. Christopher very much. But he really loved St. Anthony and Padre Pio.

Like many men his age, Dad served his country during the Korean War. He was assigned to the Intelligence Division on the remote island of Eniwetok. But he had grown up in the shadow of WWII. Which is why he always liked good movies and books about that war.

Like most men, Dad had more than a passing interest in sports but he wasn’t a fanatic. In his mature years, he liked volunteering for Meals on Wheels and St. Vincent de Paul. He was a devoted husband to Mary and a dedicated parent to six children and a proud grandpa to three grandsons. We are all what Dad was living for. And for that we are immensely grateful. Thank you and bless you, Dad.

Arrangements under the direction of Gateway Little Chapel of the Chimes, Portland, OR.