Robert (Bob) Francis Sellers, 81, passed away on Monday, May 25, 2026, Memorial Day. Born on April 21, 1945, in Washington, DC, Bob lived a life of quiet brilliance, steadfast faith, and a stubborn refusal to let a perfectly terrible joke go untold. He is mourned by all who loved him and, almost certainly, by anyone who ever had the misfortune of sitting next to him at a dinner party when he had a new pun ready to go. Bob enjoyed the simple pleasures of life: a Dunkin’ Donuts run for a cup of coffee; striking up conversation with strangers; immersing himself in a treasured book; wearing goofy, themed hats; indulging in tasty food, particularly pasta. He was a self-ascribed food critic and had aspirations of writing a children’s book. He will be remembered for his ‘What About Bob?’ banter and his occasional antics of elongating his words for the sake of silliness.

A Life of Purpose

A graduate of the University of Maryland, Bob spent the majority of his life in Anne Arundel County, Maryland, a place he considered home in every sense of the word. It was there that he built his career, raised his family, and cultivated the dry wit that would become his most recognized trait. During his college years, Bob took part in the Pep Club and cheered on the Terrapins. He was a long-time member of Asbury United Methodist Church and sang in the choir there. In his later years, he and his beloved wife, Lura, made their home in The Villages, Florida, where a slower-paced life suited him yet he could still get thrills zipping around in a golf cart.

For much of his professional life, Bob served as an entrusted technical writer with precision in pen. A Journalism major, Bob had a gift for the written word: he could take the most complex and consequential work and render it in clear, and distinctive language. A contributor to the Intelligence Community, his words underpinned numerous sensitive programs that protected national security. He was a man who believed that grammar was a form of integrity, that a well-constructed sentence was a method of truth-telling, and that the right word in the right place mattered.

The Jokes

It must be addressed, because Bob himself would be disappointed if it were not: the man loved a bad joke. Not merely appreciated them — loved them, collected them, deployed them at the least appropriate moments with the gleeful precision of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His jokes were the kind that make children giggle, and adults groan and then, despite themselves, giggle too. He believed laughter was a gift and that the groaning that followed a truly spectacular pun was simply joy in disguise. His family will remember with equal parts fondness and exasperation the way his eyes would light up just before the punchline — because they always knew what was coming, and it never mattered.

Love and Family

On April 4, 1970, Bob married his college sweetheart, Lura, née Senasack. For 56 years, Lura was his partner and his anchor. Bob is survived by his wife; his son, Greaton; his twin daughters, Jeanette (Chris) and Jennifer (Michael); and his grandchildren Ethan, Nymeria, and Elliot. His descendants inherited, in varying measure, his intelligence, his warmth, and — at least some of them — his taste in humor. He was immensely proud of each of them.

He was, in the end, exactly what he appeared to be: an honest man who did good work, loved his family, laughed often and freely, and trusted that the God he served would take care of the rest. He was right.

As Bob’s final chapter has come to an end, his departure from this world brings to mind these closing words from his favorite childhood book, Goodnight Moon:

“Goodnight stars, Goodnight air, Goodnight noises everywhere”

May Bob rest in peace, wrapped in the comfort of a familiar, gentle bedtime story.