A Lifetime, A Legacy: Bob McCreary
Bob and Betty McCreary out in the boat in the 1980s.
By Dave Bontempo
Bob and his bike.
The two components forge a string of Avalon memories for the family of the late Bob McCreary, who died of cancer May 21 at age 94. Mr. McCreary’s loved ones relished him still going strong until the final month of his life, doing what made him unique.
Mr. McCreary’s passing, albeit sad, produced a legacy that made them smile. Memories of their father came flooding back to the people who reside in the Philadelphia suburbs and have two Avalon summer homes two blocks apart. One was purchased in 1967.
As they embark on another Avalon summer, the siblings want to share his story with those who knew, or merely saw, the man whose jaunts became an Avalon staple.
Probably no one spent as much time cycling through town for the last 59 summers. Mr. McCreary toured the island anywhere from one to four times a day. He rode for hours, hitting the ballfields, the jetties, the stores, the restaurants. He stopped to watch games, observe construction, have a conversation, or share some coffee.
Day after day. Week after week. Every year since 1967, when Mr. McCreary and his wife Betty hit the emotional big time by buying a home here.
The image overshadows his decorated past, laden with athletic and coaching awards. Few knew that the man on the bike was once a Hall of Fame wrestler for Temple University and later helped coach its baseball team to a third-place finish in the College World Series.
Or that he’d refereed high school and college wrestling matches for 20-some years, or been an Army veteran and teacher.
Accolades and awards adorn dens and walls in a home. McCreary instead viewed one of his major accomplishments as earning the right to be here.
“My dad loved Avalon,” recalls daughter Chris Cummings, one of his four children. The McCrearys were married 65 years and also had 10 grandchildren. Betty turned 88 in late May.
“He did whatever he could for his family,” Cummings adds. “My dad was so proud that he was able to buy that home and have it for his family all those years. I don’t know exactly what my parents paid for it; the word is $7,000. It was a lot of money back then.”
The children never understood what their parents had given them with a summer home at the beach. Years later, it sunk in.
“It was a beautiful gift, just magic for us to be able to spend our entire summers here,” Cummings recalls. “We shared all that time with Dad. Being on his bike in Avalon was his favorite thing to do. He enjoyed riding around the town he loved more than anything. He became known for it.”
The recognition never stopped. As the siblings moved away, they’d get texts of another Bob sighting. Among those who reached out was Avalon Mayor John McCorristin.
Mr. McCreary’s journey is a familiar one to those who share the greater Philadelphia-Avalon synergy.
The Glenside, Pa., native served in the Army from 1955 to 1961, met Betty and started a family. He was a teacher, wrestling and baseball coach in Pennsylvania. In the summer, he worked at the Ocean City Yacht Club.
And he brought the family with him. The McCrearys purchased their Avalon property on 25th Street in 1967, just two blocks from one later owned by their in-laws. (Hal Kelleher, who pitched for the Phillies in the 1930s, previously had the home on 23rd Street).
Mr. McCreary enjoyed a rare perk due to his occupation. He did not have to sandwich vacation beach time around a job, as many do. McCreary could plant his feet in the sand, and on the pedals, all summer long.
“I remember him saying, ‘My kids are off, what am I going to do all summer, I should enjoy that, too,’” Cummings recalls. “The times we all enjoyed were magical. We had the beach to ourselves. We could walk the boardwalk. We could walk to Hoy’s. We had the run of the island pretty much.
“Dad was a hellraiser,” she adds. “He loved to have a good time. He loved to play jokes on people. He had a lot of friends from childhood all the way up. Dad had a love for family and a big love for sports. He wasn’t interested in talking about too much else.”
According to son Bob, here are some of the elder McCreary’s accomplishments:
Played baseball and wrestled at Cheltenham High School and Temple University.
Taught health and physical education in the Springfield School District for 42 years. Coached baseball and wrestling there as well.
Played baseball and wrestled in the Army after being drafted and helped to win an All-Army Team Championship in both sports at Fort McPherson outside of Atlanta. Quite possibly the only person to do that in two sports.
Coached wrestling at Temple, the University of Pennsylvania, and Ursinus College.
Was inducted into the Southeastern Pennsylvania Wrestling Hall of Fame as part of the Class of 2006. (He is also in the National Wrestling Hall of Fame's database for his records at Temple).
“And most importantly, he was a great dad, husband, grandfather, friend, and overall person,” Bob indicates. “My favorite memories were all the time he spent playing pepper [a baseball drill] and catch with me. It was great to have that level of coaching around me all the time.”
The younger McCreary took that advice to a high level. He played at Villanova and was drafted by the Minnesota Twins. He reached the double-A level of their organization.
He also remembers the bike.
“Dad took a different route every time I saw him,” he says. “Sometimes he would take all of us with him, sometimes he would go alone. There were times when the wind was blowing out of the south that my mom would drive him to Stone Harbor and then he would take a bicycle with the wind at his back and get home.
“No matter how many athletic accomplishments you talk about, people in Avalon did not know him for that. They knew him for the bike. They knew him for his trips around town.”
Daughter Tina Rock has her own rendition of Bicycle Bob.
“When we would spend time on 23rd Street and my dad was on 25th, he knew that if the front door was open, he could drop in for coffee,” she says. “It was usually about 8 in the morning. He was up much earlier than that.
“He rode his bike because he was such an athlete, into fitness and everything. You had to be able to talk some sports with him because if the subject wasn’t sports, he wasn’t having any of it,” she laughs.
“I’ll never forget the time he purchased a pool table and put it in our house on 25th Street. He was tired of giving Bobby money for the arcade!”
Daughter Sue Ciliberto remembers her dad’s love of games extending to the love of fun and games.
“He encouraged sibling competition,” she recalls with a widening grin. “He would tease us that somebody would always be at the top of the inheritance ladder.
“If you did something nice for him, he moved you up. We were always moving up and down on the ladder. That must have started when we were teenagers. He got such a kick out of doing that.
“So, I played my own joke right after he passed away. I wrote notes to all the siblings, saying it was from dad. It said that Sue was the winner and this was an official document from him.”
Sue said the family mixed humor with the somber occasion of her dad’s death because he wanted that.
“He told us, ‘When I die, you can cry for five minutes,” she said. “And then you have to throw a big party.’”
That celebration will include storytelling. How he was old school, never taking a cellphone with him. Or that he’d venture out in all weather, make new friends or arouse curiosity. The man rode here for nearly six decades with the wind figuratively at his back.
“It was great for us all to be talking about him,” Chris says. “As much as we enjoyed that, I think it was really good for my mom. She didn’t want to be quoted in the publication, she just wanted to hear the stories we were telling about him. She loved them.
“The one thing she said was so sweet. She said, ‘I hope he has the bike to ride up in Heaven.’”
It would be fitting. Riding here was Mr. McCreary’s Heaven on Earth.
