ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, March 9, 1997 TAG: 9703110064
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: 3 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: MARGIE FISHER
SOURCE: MARGIE FISHER EDITORIAL WRITER
PLEASE, ladies, please. No pushing, no shoving. Queue up politely to meet one of the Roanoke Valley's most eligible men.
I speak of Bob Reinicker, a friend of mine and of hundreds of local folks who have come to know him as the American Red Cross' charming needler.
``Which arm, sweetie?'' he'll ask a young, first-time female blood donor at the Red Cross' blood-donor center in downtown Roanoke. And then he'll likely go into his outrageous flirty spiel: ``I'm 38 years old and extremely rich, and I like cute young cookies.'' And if the donor, no longer nervous, giggles and says, ``But I'm married,'' he'll wave his arms in a mock dismissal: ``Oh, well, you're too old for me anyway.''
Regular donors, male and female, get this treatment: Reinicker's recitation of the latest Hokie and UVa football jokes, and his stern parting orders: ``Now you know the rules. You can't go to the bathroom for six hours. No sex for the next six months. And no booze for the next week.'' Or the alternative: ``Drink eight glasses of booze and get as much sex as possible in the next 24 hours.''
Everybody leaves happier than when they went in. I know this because several blood donors who work at The Roanoke Times often come by my office when they return from the Cross to tell me what a terrific time they had there due to Bob. And to deliver messages from that rascal.
``Bob said to tell you he's back from Miami [the Virginia Tech-Nebraska Orange Bowl game], looks like a tanned Greek god and the `wimmin' just won't leave him alone.'' Or: ``The hunk-a hunk-a hunk-a volunteer sends greetings.''
I've had people tell me they will only schedule appointments to donate blood when Bob is going to be there. Usually, that's five days a week, unless he's out in his BMW delivering blood to local hospitals, where he claims to have at each a ``harem'' of nurses waiting to jump his bod.
A vain, insufferable male chauvinist? No - a lovable rogue, a teaser, whose devotion to the Red Cross is surpassed only by his devotion to his three daughters, seven grandchildren, one great-grandchild, and his dog, ``Cody,'' with whom he jogs everyday.
The devotion to the kids and dog is understandable. His commitment to the Red Cross requires this explanation:
Reinicker, as a 19-year-old boy paratrooper, was captured by the Germans during World War II, and was incarcerated as a prisoner of war. The International Red Cross, under the Geneva Convention, was able to send in coffee and what few healthy food items the POWs survived on.
``The Red Cross saved my life,'' says Reinicker. When he retired as a traveling school-textbook salesman in 1983, he moved from Richmond to Roanoke, to be close to one daughter and her family living here, and immediately went to work as a full-time volunteer for the Red Cross to pay back the debt he felt he owed the organization. He's become an institution there, admired and appreciated by the staff, other volunteers and all who come in contact with him.
``He's just a special guy,'' says John Chambliss, Roanoke County's assistant administrator, and a frequent blood donor. ``To have someone who gives so much time and energy back to a community he loves is an inspiration to me.''
Reinicker, obviously, is not 38 years old, as he claims. I don't know about ``extremely rich,'' the BMW notwithstanding. But he's tall and handsome; doesn't drink; doesn't smoke; has a wonderful sense of humor; and is a kind and decent human being. He has no faults that I know of - not counting Tech football-fan fanaticism.
I love him dearly, and am not trying to marry him off. But ladies of a certain age, who complain there are just no attractive single men in the Roanoke Valley, have got it wrong. There is this ladies' man, this senior citizen, Bob Reinicker.
To meet him, of course, it will cost you - in blood.
LENGTH: Medium: 74 linesby CNB