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Robert Wayne Swenson, legendary law professor for 50 years at the S.J. Quinney College of Law, died suddenly and unexpectedly on November 17, 2002 during a family dinner surrounded by the
people who he loved most and who cherished him as a gentle, loving father, grandfather and husband.
At first glance, Bob's professional biography looks conventional enough. He received his undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Minnesota, worked in New York City for a large
company, became an associate at Davis, Polk, a Wall Street law firm, took permanent academic positions at Drake and then Utah, where he was the James I. Farr Professor of Law, and took
visiting positions at many other schools, including Stanford, NYU, Hastings, and Texas. Bob published important works in the property law area and was recognized as a national expert on
water law.
This conventional biography does not begin to capture the career or the man. For example, while at Davis, Polk, Bob had the opportunity to provide services to the then Duke and Duchess of
Windsor and to J. P. Morgan. Nor does this dry recitation hint at Bob's greatest professional passion and accomplishment, teaching three generations of law students.
Dean Scott Matheson says of Bob's teaching: "Bob Swenson taught more years, more courses, and more students than any other member of the law school faculty. As a teacher of property
law, he would no doubt have something to say about being described as a fixture of our law school, but there is no question that he was."
Bob was the antithesis of The Paper Chase. He was unfailingly polite and kind while at the same time persistently rigorous. One of his students from the 1980's tells a story of her
participation in a program with students from other law schools. Bob would be proud to hear her tell that "I was the only one in the group who understood the Rule Against
Perpetuities." It was almost an obsession with Bob that his students understood this obscure and complicated doctrine. One rainy day in the early 1990's, Bob walked into the law
school lobby waving a tabloid newspaper and exclaiming to all within earshot "it's true, it's true, there is a reason for the Rule Against Perpetuities." In Bob's hand was a
copy of the National Enquirer with a front page headline declaring "Ninety Two Year Old Woman Has Baby," finally proof that the fertile octogenarian was a real possibility.
Bob used a couple of unusual but effective techniques in the classroom. He was, to my knowledge, the only law professor in the country who could face the classroom, reach over his
shoulder, and write legibly on the board, to his delight and the delight of his students. Bob was notorious for becoming completely absorbed in a point and losing track of whatever else
he might be doing, such as the time he taught most of a class with a sweater hanging halfway on and halfway off his arm.
Of course, these stories all reflect a very profound feeling - love - that characterized all of Bob's relationships with students, colleagues, friends and whoever else happened into his
orbit. Every person I talked to in preparation for writing this piece used the word "love" at some point or another in describing Bob. Love was reflected in the twinkle in his
eye, in his fight for respect and equality for black athletes in the early 1950's, and in his unfailingly equal treatment of others, no matter their age, background, education or wealth.
Love also lived in his close and happy 56 year marriage with his wife, Peggy. One student recalls being in Bob's office to discuss some legal issue and hearing the phone ring. Of course,
in those days there was no way of knowing who might be calling but Bob and Peggy were so close that Bob was able to say to the student "that's my wife on the phone; I'd better take
it." Love also lived in his relationships with his three children who recall Bob at their games, and staying up all night with a cool wash cloth to make them comfortable when they
were sick.
Unknown to most, Bob was a gifted and accomplished artist. He was awarded a music scholarship and played the piano beautifully although, true to the personality of this humble man, very
few ever heard him play. Bob was also a gifted painter who did large murals on at least two walls of his and Peggy's long time home on Butler Avenue. And, unknown to almost everyone, Bob
was a gifted three sport athlete.
However, Bob was not perfect. Sometime shortly after moving to the West, Bob and his close friend and colleague, Dan Dykstra, decided to take their children camping. Not only did they come
home after one night, vowing never to go again, but they left all the camping gear behind. If Bob were here to respond, he would no doubt say "well, why bring it back, we sure as
hell were never using it again." Nor did Bob enjoy overwhelming success as a theologian (or church politician). While a young man living in New York, Bob was appointed to chair a
committee of the local Episcopal Church he belonged to. The charge to the Committee was to determine whether God existed. Bob's report came back with a negative conclusion.
Bob Swenson was the sweetest, gentlest, man I have ever known. Every day of his life he lived the truth that manliness and tenderness are synergistic qualities. Bob taught these qualities
in the most effective way - by living them - with countless students over 50 years, students who were forever changed by the unique opportunity to learn, not just the Rule Against
Perpetuities, but the principles of human decency. Bob's influence on those he left behind and those yet to come is immeasurable and, in the end, that is what counts: how we have affected
the world we have lived in, how we have left it, and how it will be in the future because of us. Robert W. Swenson, "Bob," "Uncle Bob," "Bobsie,"
"Swenny" succeeded on all counts and we are all better off for his too brief presence here.
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