Bob Mackreth, WWII veteran, dead at 100

Bob Mackreth loved taking afternoon walks through his Malverne neighborhood. When those walks eventually became difficult, he’d instead sit on his porch and wave to passersby.

The neighbors who crossed his path may have appreciated the small moment of kindness in their day and continued walking. The lucky ones, however, stopped for a conversation. After all, Bob didn’t live for a century without collecting a few amazing stories along the way.

A World War II veteran, a lifelong activist and a dedicated family man, Bob Mackreth died on Oct. 17 at 100 years old. Still living independently, Bob was witty, articulate and engaging until the end, his children said.

“What I admired about him was his integrity, and his strength and his sense of purpose,” Bob Jr., 73, said of his father. “He inspired me with his values.”

Bob Sr. spent his life protecting others, even if it meant putting himself at risk. He enlisted in the army when the United States entered WWII, and was chosen for a specialized Army Intelligence training program alongside future U.S. Sen. Frank Church and future Secretary of State Henry Kissinger. He identified the artillery stationed along the Ludendorff Bridge, the site of a significant allied win.

During his time in the Army, he wrote letters to — and always carried a picture of — his “sweetheart,” Helen Rogan. They would later be married for 69 years. He took care of her until she died in 2017, at 93 years old.

Bob was a staunch proponent of racial equality. He participated in civil rights marches, some alongside the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King. When Dr. King was assassinated, Bob was president of the Plainedge School Board and proposed a number of initiatives to strengthen the predominantly white district’s outreach to students of color, though he knew it would be unpopular.

The stance cost him his seat on the school board in the next election. It was not a surprise. It was more important to him to stand up for what he knew was right, even if it meant standing alone.

It was a trait Bob strove to instill in his children Bob Jr., Bill, 66, and Patricia, 62. Bob Jr. said that his father would often quote Horace Mann: be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.

“As a kid, I wasn’t quite sure what it meant,” Bob Jr. said. “But overall, I began to understand what it was — you should devote yourself and your life to making things better for the people who come after you.”

Bob Sr., a lover of language and a talented writer himself, spent his final years working on a memoir that detailed his childhood in Depression-era Malverne. 

He showed his love for his children through his unwavering dedication to their happiness and wellbeing. Bob, a professional social worker who helped foster kids in the city, worked two jobs so none of his kids would have to take out loans for their education.

“He was absolutely determined to give the three of us a better life than he had as a kid in the Depression,” Bob Jr. said. 

Bob Sr. put particular effort into the holidays, Bill recalled fondly. Every year, Bob would bring home a bare tree on Christmas Eve — and when the kids woke up the next morning, they were greeted with an impossibly resplendent tree. Bill swears his father would hang the tinsel strand by meticulous strand. The tree would always have one quirk, however.

“He always bought a tree that was too tall for the living room,” Bill said, laughing. “And instead of cutting it off at the bottom so it maintained its conical shape, he would cut it off at the top!”

Even so, it was always the most beautifully decorated tree, Bill said.

Bob was also a dedicated grandfather to Christopher, 27, Stephen, 25, Christine, 14 and Rosemary, 12.

Christine described her grandfather as heroic, and someone with a lot of interesting stories to tell. Rosemary said he was a great artist and singer, and that they’d often exchange letters. They both enjoyed his sense of humor — “you guys are allowed to go swimming, just don’t get wet!” — that Bill said is usually referred to as “dad jokes.”

Bob adored his grandchildren. When speaking with the Herald two days after his 100th birthday, Bob described them as “the most beautiful, wonderful kids you can imagine.”

“I am completely in awe of them, and very proud,” Bob had said. “So perfect.”

For the first time since 1952, the people of Malverne won’t see Bob Mackreth waving from his porch, or feeding the birds, or tending to his garden. But, born only two years after its incorporation, Bob’s life is forever intertwined with the village’s history and spirit. 

“I was taken aback by his sharp mind and beautiful memories of Malverne, and privileged to have shared in his experiences,” Mayor Tim Sullivan said. “Bob and his family’s contributions to our community will continue to live on in our hearts and minds.”