Jackson Jambalaya

Some people spend their lives wondering what they were meant to do. Bob Laird figured that out at just six years old when he announced he wanted to be in the Army. He lived that calling every day thereafter. A protector by nature, he spent his life serving others. Whether it was studying how to outsmart the “bad guys,” serving his country, being a Mason at the Morton Masonic Lodge, protecting schools, or simply making someone laugh, Bob never stopped looking for ways to care for people.

After marrying the love of his life, Roxie, the two began their adventure together in Germany while Bob proudly served in the United States Army. Following his military service, he continued his life’s mission of protecting others as a Special Agent with the FBI. Later, he served as Director of School Safety, where he dedicated himself to keeping Mississippi’s students and educators safe until his retirement. Retirement wasn’t about slowing down—it just gave Bob more time to enjoy the things he loved. Whether he was volunteering with the Civil Air Patrol, participating in military reenactments, showing off his beloved OPAWAGEN or “Pawpaw Wagon” at car shows, dressing up in one of his countless costumes, or creating unforgettable memories with his grandchildren, Bob believed life was meant to be lived to the fullest.

If you knew Bob, you knew two things: he loved Jesus, and he loved people. He never met a stranger, could tell a story like no one else, and had a gift for making people laugh, even during life’s hardest moments. One of his favorite sayings summed up the way he lived: “Some people sit on their deathbed and think, ‘I wish I would’ve.’ I sit here and think, ‘I’m glad I did.’”

Even through his battle with cancer, Bob’s faith never wavered—it grew stronger. His humor never faded, and his greatest joy remained his family and the people God placed in his path. At his very first chemotherapy appointment, he looked around and decided the place was just too serious. He smiled and said, “I think this place needs a clown.” From that day forward, he began dressing in costume for every treatment and appointment. He often said there were plenty of clowns to make children laugh, but not nearly enough to bring joy to adults. “Adults will talk to a clown,” he’d say, and they did. It wasn’t uncommon to look up and find him surrounded by patients, family members, nurses, doctors, and hospital staff—sharing stories, offering encouragement, praying with strangers, and reminding people they weren’t alone. He never went anywhere without his “Happy Sack,” filled with candy, small toys, and his signature Mini Jesuses. As he handed them out, he’d always say, “Take one for yourself...and one to pass along.”

To Bob, every hospital hallway was another mission field, every stranger was a friend he simply hadn’t met yet, and every smile was an opportunity to share the hope he had found in Christ. Bob was preceded in death by his parents, Thomas “Buster” Laird and LaWanda Reed, and his beloved grandson, Kurt McCurdy (Little Mac).

He leaves behind the love of his life and devoted wife, Roxie; his daughters, Christina Hurt (Aubrey), Ashley Rhodes (Brian), and Jordan Vanderford (RP); his treasured grandchildren, Sydney, Konnor, Lucy Grace, Anna Belle, Casper, Bryson, and Laird; along with a multitude of nieces, nephews, extended family members, and dear friends who were blessed to know him.

Heaven gained our clown, our storyteller, our cheerleader, our Daddy, our Papaw, our friend, and our hero. And while we’ll miss his stories, his costumes, and his laughter more than words can express, we rejoice knowing he is finally Home with Jesus— whole, healed, and hearing the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

He was indeed a character.  There is a reason that word is used twice.  Opinionated and stubborn, he could come off like Buford T. Justice but he had a heart that matched his personality.  He'd regale you with stories and then say something that made you say "you can't say that," but he'd say it anyway.  Every good gumbo needs spice and Bob Laird was indeed the spice of life.  Farewell sir, you will be missed.  You will finally get to see your grandson a careless driver took from you when he was still a baby.