Jason Ray Hutchison
I've had a hard time putting to words the loss I feel for Grandpa Z. Never have I known a man with a heart so big, so full of love, hope, and encouragement for others. He was a guidance counselor, not just for the kids at Fruitport Public Schools, but by his nature. He was always there, helping us grandkids to figure out life, decide what to do with ourselves, chase our dreams, and be more and better than we thought we could be. Wherever we went, be it a hockey game in Muskegon or a trip to New York City, people would recognize Bob Zorn and stop to thank him for being there in a moment that mattered, supporting them in some way that affected them deeply.
There's so much I could share about Grandpa Z, "the Voice of the Fruitport Trojans." He had a song for everything, and a bevy of catchy sayings that were all his own. He was a history buff who helped sparked my career in diplomacy and pushed me to make a difference in Washington. After jogging "a light three," Grandpa was always ready to take us over the dunes to the beach on Lake Michigan or to hop in the car to watch the grandkids' sporting events. And he was ready to talk about anything together while swinging on the front porch in the late afternoon, me with a glass of lemonade, him with a glass of port wine. When it wasn't snowing, the Cubs or Tigers were always on the radio. His love for Grandma Z was so very deep and pure.
