Robert E. Woodhouse

Robert Elliott Woodhouse, 78, died September 4, 2011 at his home in Cottonwood. He was born June 7, 1933 in Costa Mesa, California, the son of Elliott and Mariam Almaira Woodhouse. He enjoyed tennis, shooting, driving his cars and singing in the Voices choir. He also enjoyed a good cribbage game and his daily horoscope. He is survived by his older brother Don of Littleton, Colorado, son Steven (Theresa), daughters Teri Nelson (Randy), Caren Hecht (Michael), Lori Hondo (Todd), 14 grandchildren and numerous great-grandchildren, his special love and companion, Beverly Hall and her daughter Julie Margason (Jim), sons David Scott (Debbie), Kevin Scott, Jason Sloan and 4 grandchildren. A memorial service will be held Friday, September 9th at Mountain View United Methodist Church at 901 S. 12th St. in Cottonwood at 10 am. An online guestbook is available to sign at www.westcottfuneralhome.com ---- A tribtute to Bob Woodhouse: By TERRY MONAHAN [email protected] North County Times | Posted: Monday, September 5, 2011 3:10 pm | 1 Comment Font Size:Default font sizeLarger font size .As soon as I heard Mike Dolan\u0027s voice on the phone, I knew why he had called. One of the true characters of football was gone. Bob Woodhouse, who coached 14 seasons at San Marcos High until 1976 and followed that up with a decade at San Pasqual (including one season as the freshmen team\u0027s coach), died Sunday at age 78 at his home in Cottonwood, Ariz. "I\u0027m sure he was watching football when he went,\u0027\u0027 said Dolan, who was an assistant to Woodhouse at both schools before succeeding him at San Pasqual for a 20-year stint as head coach. "You can tell yourself you\u0027re prepared when you see someone going downhill like Bob was at the end, but you\u0027re still shocked when that call comes. "What did Bob mean to me? Have you got an hour? He started me in coaching football when I wanted to be a baseball or a basketball coach. I wound up coaching D-line that first year.\u0027\u0027 A memorial service will be held in Arizona on Friday, with another one in San Marcos on either Sept. 15 or 16. The stories will flow that day. Everyone who knew Woodhouse well or was just mildly acquainted with him has a memory or a funny story or remembers how he changed or at least altered their life. I can recall covering San Pasqual games from the sideline and, during the final seconds, having Woodhouse walk over and start chit-chatting with me about how the game was going. One time, I had to pick up something at school from Woodhouse. I took my youngest daughter, Kelly, who was about 3 at the time, and Woodhouse led her over to the table with the chocolate doughnuts in his office. She thought she was in heaven. She took one for herself and, of course, one for her sister, which Erin never got. Woodhouse was late for his PE class, so we hopped into his golf cart, with Kelly hanging on in the back, and went to the upper field to talk. Kelly still talks about the day she got chocolate doughnuts at San Pasqual. Oh yeah, I got in trouble for that when my wife, Jean, got home from work that night. There was the time when Orange Glen showed up late for a game at San Pasqual, and Patriots coach Rob Gilster cut the lock on the agriculture farm at the south end of the field and ran onto the field to the delight of Orange Glen fans. Woodhouse just glared, but he later laughed about it, saying it was something he\u0027d do. He wasn\u0027t above trying tricks. Woodhouse had signs put up on the freeway bridges before a game against Oceanside, warning drivers to watch out for snakes in Escondido. He knew the Oceanside players weren\u0027t fond of snakes. For good measure, he threw a few rubber snakes under the Pirates\u0027 bench. To mess with El Camino coach Herb Meyer, he doctored a game film that he gave to the Wildcats. Meyer put on the film for his players and walked out of the room, only to hear his players laughing. Woodhouse had blacked out an onside kick the Eagles tried and added an audio message to Meyer, who was not amused. One time, Woodhouse, Dolan and assistant coach Paul Moyneur went into the wilderness to chop wood on a weekend. On Monday, the trio was sporting bandages, and two of them were limping around. "The trees got the best of us,\u0027\u0027 Dolan said. "When people asked what happened, Bob told them the trees didn\u0027t cooperate. They didn\u0027t listen to his instructions.\u0027\u0027 While there are a million funny stories about Woodhouse, don\u0027t think for a second that football wasn\u0027t important to him. He retired as one of the San Diego Section\u0027s most successful coaches with a record of 155-71-5. His unique running attack gave opposing teams fits every year except his first season at San Pasqual in 1977. After the first game, in which quarterback Rick Hansen passed for 190 yards against Meyer and the Wildcats, Dolan told Woodhouse, "You\u0027re going to hate it, but we\u0027re going to lead the county in passing. And we did.\u0027\u0027 "He still has that Air Woodhouse hat on his wall in his home,\u0027\u0027 Hansen said. "There were other coach in my life who had parts of what Bob had, but no one had the entire package as a coach and a person like Bob. That\u0027s what made him special.\u0027\u0027 Woodhouse\u0027s greatest trait was an ability to mingle among different groups. He could talk to athletes and non-athletes, smart kids and less-than-smart kids, boys and girls, players and parents and administrators. "Bob fancied himself as the great communicator,\u0027\u0027 Hansen said. "He could talk to a motorcycle mechanic just as easily as he talked to a CEO.\u0027\u0027 For coaches like Dolan and players like Hansen, Woodhouse worked his magic in all phases of their lives. "Bob was an experience,\u0027\u0027 Dolan said. "He was a no-nonsense guy who got directly to the point. There was never a gray area with Bob. "The first question he\u0027d ask is, \u0027What\u0027s best for kids?\u0027 No one could argue with that.\u0027\u0027 Woodhouse nearly died of alcohol poisoning from a lifetime of drinking in the early 1980s, when he was admitted to the McDonald Center in La Jolla during the offseason. "The nurse told me I was 20 minutes from dying,\u0027\u0027 Woodhouse said after being released. "That really got my attention.\u0027\u0027 Given a second chance, Woodhouse returned to coaching and didn\u0027t skip a beat. He never had another drink. When he announced his retirement at San Pasqual\u0027s awards banquet after the 1985 season, players and coaches were in tears over the news. Even seniors who wouldn\u0027t play for the Eagles again were heartbroken. When Woodhouse\u0027s wife, Sandy, died a few years later, it was Woodhouse who delivered a touching 40-minute eulogy. He never so much as choked up. "Somebody had to do it, and no one knew Sandy like I did,\u0027\u0027 Woodhouse said at the time. "That was my job.\u0027\u0027 In his waning days, Woodhouse loved to watch old cowboy movies. Dolan figures if Bob hadn\u0027t been a football coach, he would have been a cowboy. "To say the least, Bob was an experience,\u0027\u0027 Dolan said. Everyone who met him would agree, with a big smile. Read more: http://www.nctimes.com/high-school/san-marcos/article_4096e000-17b3-525d-a778-8e9e7d3c6809.html#ixzz1XKQNUSFY