Hot Truck Bob

Tom LaFalce '94 on 12/12/08 writes:

I was lucky to know Bob from working with him in the Hot Truck for 2 and a half years while I was an undergrad. I started out on Wednesday nights, and then moved to the Sunday early shift. This meant that for two years, Sunday dinner was shared with Bob in the Hot Truck. We would wait on customers for the first couple of hours and then we would enjoy our sandwiches of choice or even a pizza (always with a few of his homemade meatballs) during the 8-9 pm lull. We talked about our families and all that was going on in our lives. New staff were always trained on Sunday evenings, and as we inducted new employees into the routines of the truck, you really saw the pride Bob had in his business and his product.

As I write this on a snowy evening, I am reminded of one of my favorite memories of Bob. Back in the winter of 1993, Cornell closed for the first time in decades due to a massive snowstorm. More than 2 and a half feet of snow fell and when Sunday came around, the snow finally stopped and it was time to begin digging out. I'll never forget walking over to Bob and Sharon's house on Pleasant Grove Road with 20 of my KDR brothers. Everyone chipped in to shovel their long driveway while Bob and I began making subs in the Truck. I am not sure who was more appreciative - my brothers who got to have Hot Truck for dinner - or Bob, for helping him get out of his driveway so that he could be at his usual spot on Stewart Avenue. What amazed me about that day was how important it was for Bob to be out that night. It wasn't about missing a night of business, it was about being there to serve the students.

Almost 10 years later, after Bob had retired from running the Hot Truck, Bob and Sharon came to our wedding on the Cornell campus. My wife Marisa was the center of attention that day, but Bob was a close second. To this day, I think Bob was in more pictures than I was! Countless people came over to Bob to say hello and hear how his retirement was going. People were thrilled to see Bob. It really showed the impact that Bob had on so many Cornellians. His legacy is certainly as great as some of Cornell's best professors, and the memories aren't hampered by papers and prelims!

Working in that tiny truck with hot trays coming in and out of the ovens was close quarters. Despite the long hours and the late nights you could see how Bob thrived on his business. He loved his customers and he was devoted to serving them the best product possible. I will always remember his warm nature, his fun sense of humor and his vital role in the Cornell community. He will truly be missed.

Michael Coe '85 on 12/12/08 writes:

I was so foolish as a freshman that my first Hot Truck sandwich was actually a cold sub, just because I didn't want to wait. (How embarrassing!) But I quickly mended my ways and became a big fan of the TMBC Pep and the Ra Ra G&G, which often served as comfort food when the pressures of my studies were wearing me out. I guess Bob never held my initial error against me, because I later had the privilege of waiting inside the truck on many cold winter nights, chatting with Bob and handing him fresh bags of bread when he called for them. He was the hardest working man I've ever met, and one of the friendliest too.

Eric Skolnick '90 on 12/12/08 writes:

A few fond memories of Bob.
1. Regularly making first call around 10 PM with my Truck buddy, Andrew Stifel (A&S, c/o '91). He was PMP, Pep, Mush, Onion, G&G, Industrial, Liquid Heat with a Coke. I was T Sui, G&G, Industrial, Liquid Heat with a Minute Maid Orange.

2. Hearing Bob tell the story of the alum who stood at his window, slapped down a $100 bill, and said that he was buying sandwiches for everyone until the money ran out.

3. Debbie Truck. Wednesday nights (1989-1990) Debbie worked the window.

4. And finally, sitting at an O's (Baltimore Orioles) game on a beautiful spring night with Andrew Stifel. End of the ninth inning, the O's win. I turn to Andrew and say, "Truck?" He thinks for a moment, nods,then we get into his car only to arrive on Stewart Avenue around 4:15 AM just before Bob pulls out. Refer to #1 above for our order. We took our cherished, hot sandwiches back into the car, drove up to the Straight (in the days you still could), got out and ate them in front of McGraw Tower. We finished, sang the alma mater, got back into the car, and drove back home.

Bob, we will miss you dearly and cherish our memories of cold nights, hanging out on the steps behind U-Hall 3 or inside the steamy cab of the van waiting for our portions of oven baked perfection.

Marguerite Duane '92, '94 on 12/12/08 writes:

As one of the few female employees that worked for him, I felt fortunate to get to know him so well. I began working for Bob during my senior year at Cornell and whether it was a hot evening in August or a cold night in December, he always arrived at West Campus with a smile. As we would work side by side, he would share stories about his life, from his start at his father's restaurant, to raising his children with his wonderful wife. Even more so, he cared about us ~ all of us ~ all the students, friends, and alumni who would spend many nights waiting outside his truck. It was not uncommon for customers to sometimes wait hours for their PMP or shaggy. All the while Bob worked fast and furiously to see that his customers were satisfied. For me it was an honor to work with Bob and I appreciated how much he cared for me and his other employees. If a customer got out of line, after a late night at the bars in college town, Bob would set them straight . With most people though it was not a problem. They showed Bob the respect he showed to all of us. The highlight of my career at Hot Truck was the night Bob drove up in his brand new truck in the mid 1990s. I was the first employee to work the window of the new truck. And as his thank you to me, Bob gave me one of the hot truck menus from the old truck. It was written in black magic marker on a window shade. Some of the words were faded and their were splattered grease stains, but it is a souvenir, I will always treasure. The Cornell community indeed lost an icon and true friend to students when Bob Pertillose passed away and he will be forever in our hearts.

Brad H. Richards on 12/12/08 writes:

From my freshman days on West Campus to living at the corner of Stewart and University at Phi Sigma Kappa for the rest of my Cornell career, the Hot Truck was a place of refuge to wind down from a tough day or for winding up for a fun filled weekend. Bob was not only a friendly face.

I had the pleasure of calling him boss. For my last two years at Cornell I worked the Hot Truck window on Monday and Wednesday nights. We certainly had a lot of interesting nights, thanks to the colorful residents of West Campus. Other than nights of big hockey and/or lacrosse wins the one night that really stands out for me was the night the John Lennon was shot in New York City. It was still early in the night so there wasn't much of a crowd yet but everyone was definitely more somber the whole night as we kept listening to the radio for updates.

Bob was a great man, he was only selling sandwiches but he handed out so much more. He would listen attentively to those lucky enough to get an inside "parking place" even if we couldn't figure out a thing they were saying. Remember the drinking age in New York back then was 18. If someone was short 50 cents because they asked for "Pep" on their WGC (wet garlic and cheese) he told me to let it go. Normally they would be back later or the next day to make good.

Moving to the midwest years ago has kept me away from Ithaca but when I did get back for reunions it was good to catch up with Bob.

Thanks for providing the opportunity to stroll through memory lane. Bob will be missed, but I take a part of him wherever I go.

Theodore Seale on 12/12/08 writes:

I arrived at Cornell from Philadelphia in January 1979. I stood in the snow for my first visit to the Hot Truck and naturally ordered a "cheesesteak hoagie wid" meaning with Cheese Whiz and grilled onions. Bob cracked a smile and said, " Hello Philly boy. We call them steak 'n cheese subs up here. Don't compare the two sandwiches, just enjoy the one that will be in your hands in a few minutes." Thankfully, I did not like Bob's version of my hometown favorite sandwich. My next trip to the truck I ordered a PMP and discovered the blissful marriage ceremony that Bob celebrated between mozarella cheese and tomato sauce so many times each night.

Genevieve (Murphy) Nelson '85 on 12/12/08 writes:

I was sorry to hear of Bob's passing...I met Bob and his wonderful Hot Truck about 2 weeks into my freshman year (1981- I lived in Baker Tower) and became a "regular" pretty quickly. I kept my room in Baker tower the following year and became one of the "lucky ones" who had a place inside the truck...I can still remember walking away from my desk around 11:30 pm, walking around to the back door of the truck and stepping inside to be enveloped by that wonderful aroma of garlic and toasting bread. At first, Bob and I would just chat while I waited for my sandwich to be ready, but eventually I was given the privilege of taking orders from the window and calling them out to Bob while the cheese and meatballs flew in and out of the oven.

I always felt at home in that truck- Bob and I could talk about anything: the latest news in the Daily Sun, upcoming exams, my boyfriend (who eventually became my husband) and Bob was always happy to see me (even when I was not in particularly happy mood).

What I remember most about Bob was his unfailing sense of fairness. The truck was often mobbed, and the customers never formed any kind of organized line. But Bob always knew who showed up when, and if you tried to call out an order before someone else who had been waiting longer than you, he would ignore you until he determined that it was your turn. I still don't know exactly how he did that, but he managed to teach all of us about the meaning of fair play and honesty.

Although I have told a lot of people about the wonderful hot truck that sustained me during my four years on the hill, there are no words to describe what Bob Petrillose really meant to me.

Chris Miller '93 on 12/12/08 writes:

I'm sorry to hear about the passing of Mr. Petrillose. Hot Truck Bob was a big part of my life during my Cornell years, 1989-1993, and the Truck has been a highlight of reunion trips ever since. I enjoyed sharing a PMP with my wife during a recent Ithaca reunion.

I'll remember Bob more for his kindness and generosity than for the delicious late-night meals he provided. Bob always welcomed my friends and me into the truck on a cold night, asking about our recent adventures and the general state of our lives. Bob had a twinkle in his eye and frequently provided us with a good laugh. He was even kind enough to provide a ride home to our fraternity in the Hot Truck one night after one of my friends had injured an ankle. "Hold onto the handle," we were instructed, as he slowly wound his way down Cayuga Heights Road in the early morning hours. Thanks, Bob, for the memories.

Trevor Steer on 12/15/08 writes:

I actually never started frequenting the Hot Truck until I was in my Junior year, which was GOOD and BAD...Bad because I "missed out" on such GREAT STUFF the first couple years, but Good because I would probably have weighed 300-lbs if I had....LOL.

On a more serious note though, I got to know Bob "personally" (OK, he started remembering who I was) in my Senior Year, and he was an AMAZING and VERY FRIENDLY Man. He is MOST DEFINITELY a Cornell "icon," and his LEGACY will ALWAYS live on.

Chris Pearce '88 on 12/15/08 writes:

Like many Cornell alums, I was saddened by the news of Bob Petrillose's recent passing. I was a student at Cornell from 1984-88, and living on west campus meant I could always count on his Hot Truck to be there on Friday nights, when I was ready to treat myself after a long academic week. Sometimes, when I was on a shoestring budget, it was all I could do to scrape up enough cash for a classic PMP (with pep/mush, of course), and when I was a little more flush at week's end, I'd get a WGC (for the garlic lover). Hot Truck was a warm and delicious oasis on cold Ithaca nights, and Bob always welcomed those of us who waited inside his truck, lured by the great smells and the chance to see Bob work his magic. I'm sure Hot Truck has a special route in heaven! He will be missed.

G&G, Rimbert Rivera '89 BSEE on 12/15/08 writes:

The Hot Truck menu was one of the memorabillia I've kept to remind me of my college days. My personal favorite was the KK (Krazy Korean).

I don't know how many people knew this trick, but I'd usually ask for "what's hot?" For the uninitiated, it's code for what he's already made but whomever ordered it hadn't picked it up. That poor slob's (who forgot their order or passed out) loss was definitely my gain as I didn't have to wait to enjoy one of Bob's creations. Except for one time where what was hot was a vegeterian sub. Who orders a veggie sub from Hot Truck? I was even invited inside his truck once which I felt was a high honor.

I raise my glass to you, Mr. Robert Petrillose. Though I didn't know your name, I knew your work well and dreamt of it even after almost twenty years later. Cornell will not be the same without you. Rest in peace.

Chuck Samul '77 on 12/15/08 writes:

While many will wax nostalgic over the pmp, sui or mbc, my personal favorite was the more obscure rbc ¿ roast beef surprise. Aside from roast beef and red sauce and cheese I don¿t remember what else was in it but it was a truly righteous mess! I lived freshman year in UH3 so didn¿t have far to go for late night delicacies.

Chris Kelly '94 on 12/15/08 writes:

Sad news indeed. I bought many a sandwich from him, as I was a regular "night owl" studier and lived on that part of campus my last year.

Eric Braun '87 on 12/15/08 writes:

I¿ve missed Bob and the magic of his hot truck for many years now ¿ his was an experience no marketer could create. Cornell has many stars that touch students¿ lives, but few that have done so as broadly and so viscerally as Bob.

Gretchen Ryan '97 on 12/16/08 writes:

I was lucky enough to get to know Bob while working for him one summer. I worked one night a week for the six weeks that the high school summer programs were on campus. I was amazed at how Bob knew just about everyone who walked up to the window and took the chance to get to know the new folks. I still think of him as I do my work in student services - he was friendly, approachable, and remembered everyone. When I returned to Cornell 2 years after that summer I visited Hot Truck and Bob looked at me and turned around to continue with his work. About 10 seconds later he came to the window and said, "I've forgotten your name, but I know that your grandfather lived in Binghamton." He was right on. Cheers to Bob for engaging with the Cornell and greater Ithaca community and creating the most unique restaurant business I've ever seen!

Robert Fabbricatore '66 on 12/16/08 writes:

My family has known the Petrillose family since my father and mother came to Cornell in 1928 & 29 and settled in Ithaca after graduating from Cornell. From the days of Johnny's Coffee Shop and Grandpa Joe to the switch to Johnny's Big Red Grill which happened in the early 50's, we were customers, friends and I worked at Johnny's along side Bob and tended bar during my college days. I WAS THE OTHER GUY IN THE TRUCK ON THAT FIRST NIGHT IN 1960. We had planned to move around but only made one stop as the truck was overwhelmed by the unbelieving horde of students who would gladly wait more than an hour for a pizza. We used the walking talkie to get more supplies from the restaurant and all we had was a cigar box to hold the money and we just started throwing the money on the floor and it accumulated up to our ankles. I have a 100 stories involving the Petrillose Family that date back to 1929. They are very funny, compassionate, workaholics. My father and Bob's father liked to tell incredible stories (all outrageous fabrications) to students who were in Johnny's often interspersing between Italian and English. It would be like W C Fields talking to Charles Ponzi and would explain why you wouldn't necessarily believe everything Bob told you having been raised in that environment.

Richard Ekstrom "66 on 12/16/08 writes:

The Hot Truck was ourside my dorm UH#3 my freshman year. Must have had at least 100 pizzas that year. Always tried to stop by the Hot Truck when I was back for reunions. Bob remembered everybody.

Suzi and Bill on 12/16/08 writes:

...or MBCG and Full Sui-No Mush.

We ate them every night and somehow never gain a pound. Opening the door and walking inside, past all those envious underclassMEN - you knew you'd really become a Cornellian!

Bob dispensed wisdom and kindness and never let anything slip by. Inside the truck there was no mess and no disorganization. His hands never stopped moving and his heart was always open.

Returning to the truck for a 20th Reunion , we opened the door, and were greeted with a smile, a pause and then "MBCG and a Full Sui-No Mush...... How ARE YOU?!?!"

A true Cornell experience.

Bill Van Sweringen on 12/16/08 writes:

Freshman year I would usually make the late night run for the floor to the hot truck from U Halls. I didn't mind because usually the guy making the run would receive an extra, such a free bag of chips from Bob.

Years later at a reunion weekend I showed up at Hot Truck. Bob recognized me and he even remembered I liked tuna subs.

Bill Van S.

Karen Kelley on 12/17/08 writes:

Without a doubt one of the most cherished memories of Cornell. We used to be able to see the truck out of the window at U-Hall 3, but we never managed to see it arrive - it was either there, or it was not. There was nothing like a WGC G&G!

Antonio Anselmo 81,82 and 87 on 12/17/08 writes:

I spent a lot of late nights with Bob over my years as at Cornell. He was not only a consummate restaurateur, but a true gentleman. Although I was both a undergrad and a graduate student, my fondest memories of Bob were during the period I was writing my doctoral thesis. In order to be more efficient and get more out the campus computers, I would work at night, beginning at 4:00 pm and finishing at 4:00 am. At around 1:30 on weeknights, I would go for "dinner" at the truck. It was pretty slow mid-week and often it would just be Bob and I in the truck. No matter how frustrating and disheartening the thesis process could be, Bob always cheered me up. He would spin some story about Cornell or his family that would have some moral in the end. One of his favorites, often told over and over, was the creation of his masterpiece, the "Sui". I still tell my kids how good a person he was every time we are in Ithaca and drive on Stewart Ave past his electrical hookup. Heaven is lucky to have him. God bless you Bob.

Doug Johnson '78 on 12/17/08 writes:

At Phi Sig in the '70's, the pledge on duty during spring semester had to answer the phone during the evenings, and then go make a Hot Truck run at about 11:30 or so (even though the House was only a few yards from Bob's Truck -- so the brothers did not have to wait outside in line). That's when I first started eating Hot Truck in earnest. Ra-Ra G&G usually for me, or a Sui. That's how Brad Richards (who writes above) got really familiar with the Hot Truck -- going to get sandwiches for ME and the other brothers when he was a pledge. (Right Brad?)

I almost always had Hot Truck after a late night intramural hockey time at Lynah (or especially if we had been freezing our butts off after a cold late night ice time down in the Tin Can at Cass Park). Many was the time I walked over to the truck, still in hockey pants and jersey to spend a few minutes in the Truck with Bob, waiting for my glorious sandwich to be cooked.

RIP Bob.

Ryan Anthony '02 on 12/18/08 writes:

Well you might as well have just told me that the gorges had filled up and no longer arced through campus. It's sad to know that such a defining piece of my time in Ithaca is gone.

Joe S on 12/21/08 writes:

Lived literally across the street from the Hot Truck. Many, many a late night and early morning spent enjoying Bob's sandwiches from 90-93. I was a PMP pep, heavy.

You were a pioneer and your fresh iedas sorely missed.

Kim (Levine) Graham '89 on 12/23/08 writes:

I never knew him as ¿Hot Truck Bob¿ but just Bob, who was at the Hot Truck. I lived on West Campus for three of my four years at Cornell, and all of my four years I was known to go down to the Hot Truck. I had a friend who worked in the truck for a while, and as such I got to stand inside (where it was WARM!) on many occasions. As a senior and an RA on West Campus, I introduced my freshmen to the tradition. One cold early November morning the talk in the truck turned to everyone¿s Thanksgiving plans. I said as an RA I was planning on staying on campus and had no particular plans. Bob invited me and the one freshman (a Canadian) from my floor who stayed for the break to his home for Thanksgiving meal. What a surprise! What a treat! He did point out that his lovely wife Sharon did all the cooking and he did not one bit of it. I admit it was amazing and we got to meet his wonderful family and grandkids, who we played with. Bob of course started nodding off during the meal, his wife explaining his odd hours mean he¿s usually taking a nap in the late afternoon. It was a rare treat to see the family side of this icon. He was truly a generous person.

Stuart Luppescu '70 on 12/23/08 writes:

I lived in UH#4 freshman year, and paid many a late night visit to Bob. He was always warm and welcoming; his subs never failed to satisfy.

One cold clear night in February 1967, I remember a most spectacular Aurora Borealis display visible in the sky. I only noticed it lined up waiting to get into the Hot Truck. To this day, any time I see the aurora I think of Bob, and get hungry for an MBC.

Ken Deschere '71 on 12/24/08 writes:

After hearing tales of Barf Bar Fred in the basement of UH 1, I shunned the calls of the then-new (now-gone) Noyes Center and WSH to dine at the Hot Truck each night - I never signed up for a Meal Plan.

In Bob We Trusted, and he never let us down. A Triple Sui and two Cokes kept me going through freshman engineering. His memory and consistent geniality made him a fondly-remembered part of Life on The Hill. Though Johnny's had a a sub shop next to the Big Red Grill on Dryden Rd. for a while which sold Hot Truck items, and The Shortstop Deli sells their versions of the various masterpieces, a big part of the experience was the wait outside the Truck, talking with Bob and other regulars in line.

Memories of Bob will always be warm and fond one, indeed.

Leslie MacKenzie Vasbinder '80 on 12/27/08 writes:

I lived on West Campus for all of my Cornell years (Lyon Hall, then Stewart Ave Apts) and the Hot Truck was crucial to making it through those long nights of studying. My friends and I would run out in the snow and chat with Bob while he made our favorite hot subs (mine was hot ham & swiss with Mayo & tomato). We so appreciated him and his faithfulness to be there every night. May God richly bless his family for their sacrifice in sharing him with Cornell for all those years.

Tom Swanson '77 on 01/11/09 writes:

In my day, we never knew his full name. it wasn't painted on the "old" truck. he was just "Hot Truck Bob" from Johnny's Big Red. In the mid 70's there was also a "cold truck" that parked next to Bob but you only went there when the hunger pangs just couldn't stand the wait. After being initiated to the hot truck during freshman year stints in the UHalls and Boldt Hall the tradition carried on during my last three years at Sigma Nu, two blocks away.

My best story; back 30 years ago, LONG before Texas hold'em ever became popular on TV, there was a group that played all night poker once or twice a week at the frat house. There would always be a late night/early morning hot truck run (usually by the biggest loser who hoped a break would change his luck). One night somebody said they heard some guy in another house tried to eat three triple sui's. We had one particular type A, opinionated, and garbage belly brother who claimed he could do it. When we told Bob he made 'em up "special". Believe it or not he did eat them, every bite, didn't die, and we had a story that got rehashed with Bob everytime we went back for more.

It's really interesting to read the posts here and on the Facebook hot truck group. A whole lot of Cornellians for over 40 years from the 60's to 2000 who wouldn't know each other if we ran over them on the sidewalk, all with the same memories. At Cornell, I met and was taught by Nobel winners (Hans Bethe), famous rock star astronomers (Cark Sagan and Frank Drake), and even one of th two guys that built the first jet engine (Dennis Shepherd). But one of the fondest memories we ALL have (from all those years) will always be one of standing in the snow waiting and talking to Bob. Takes a good man to effect that many folks. RIP my friend.