To meet Bob Boyer, is to meet a man who has seen more than most—but tells it with humility, humor, and a generous spirit. At 87, he still carries himself with the sturdy confidence of a former athlete, the warmth of a beloved teacher, and the curiosity of someone who knows that life rarely follows a straight line.

He graduated from Byron High School in 1955, back when the school’s plays were performed on a gymnasium stage and the football team was still finding its footing. That year, Bob was quarterback and safety, helping to lead Byron’s first conference championship since before World War II. “We didn’t have offense and defense back then—we just played,” he says with a grin.

But what he remembers just as clearly as football or the school play (“Mr. Roberts,” cast with an unusually high number of boys that year) was a teacher named Glenn “Gus” Sunderman, for whom the high school’s theater is now named. “Gus wasn’t much for grammar,” Bob says, “but he lit a fire in us for speech and performance. He made us feel like we mattered.”

Bob’s early years mirrored the stories of many Depression-era kids. Born in Freeport, raised briefly in Lanark, and eventually settling in Byron, his father drove a milk truck before securing a job at a Rockford machine shop where he worked for 45 years. Bob followed in his footsteps—at least for a while.

After a brief and unsatisfying stint at Northern Illinois, Bob worked at the same factory as his dad to save money, bought a “junker of a car,” and transferred to Western Illinois University, where he earned a business degree. From there, life zigzagged: a draft notice sent him to Fort Riley, Kansas, where he processed thousands of incoming troops in the early Vietnam era. Then came jobs in personnel management, a stint at the YMCA, and a role with the Rockford Chamber of Commerce.

But the real twist came through a chance connection with a Japanese exchange program.

“I was asked if Rockford could host a group of Japanese students for a week,” Bob recalls. “I said yes—and I loved it.” That one week turned into a recurring opportunity, and eventually, into a co-founded cultural exchange called FAR: Friendship Association of Rockford. It was through that partnership that Bob first visited Japan.

And when his life in Rockford unraveled—a difficult divorce, a job loss, a sense of drifting—Japan became more than a destination. It became a lifeline.

“I was 50 when I moved,” he says. “I thought my story was done. Turns out, it was just getting started.”

Bob became a beloved English teacher in Japan, first at a conversation school and then at universities, where he was known for his patient, relational style and his deep respect for Japanese culture. It was there he met Toshie, a widowed mother whose daughter had been one of his students. Their relationship blossomed, rooted in mutual admiration, modesty, and the kind of connection you don’t plan for—but recognize instantly.

“We were married for 30 years,” he says softly. “She passed away five years ago. If she were still here, I’d still be in Japan.”

When she died, Bob came home to Byron. He now lives just down the street from the football field where he once played both sides of the ball, and where his life as a hometown kid first began.

Ask him what he thinks of the path he’s walked, and he won’t offer cliché or pretense. Just this:

“I had a good first life. But that second one—that one surprised me.”

In Bob Boyer’s story, the lesson is simple and profound: it’s never too late for new beginnings, never too late to rediscover joy, and never too late to share it.