Robert Andrew Wagenhoffer
July 5, 1960-December 13, 1999
California born Robert Wagenhoffer made his national debut at the 1975 U.S. Championships in Oakland, winning the free skate in the novice men's event. Two years later in Hartford, he won the U.S. junior men's title. He went on to win medals in both singles and pairs (with partner Vicki Heasley) at the U.S. Championships and represent America at three World Championships. Turning professional in 1982, he toured with Ice Capades, Champions On Ice, Gershwin On Ice and the World Cup Champions On Ice tour. He won the World Professional Championships in Jaca, Spain in 1982 and 1989 and the U.S. Open Professional title in 1989. He taught skating in Taunton, New Bedford and Fall River, Massachusetts and enjoyed sailing in his free time. In 1992, Robert lost his partner Billy Lawe and older brother to AIDS. In "American Skating World" magazine in 1993, he recalled his brother's death. "It was a shock. My brother just got sick and in three weeks he was gone. He got pneumonia over Christmas and by the middle of January he was on life-support and he just passed on. That brought literally to home. We were really close... He was the one who taught me to appreciate classical music and art and had a big influence on what I do... I'm sick of watching my friends dying. Without even having to think, I could probably name ten right off the top of my head within the last three years. And that doesn't even count the people I have acquaintances with. People are literally dropping around me. And they're dropping around everyone," he said. After skating in countless shows in support of HIV/AIDS research, Robert passed away on December 13, 1999 in Torrance, California, leaving behind his partner Sylvain Beauregard.
Vicki Heasley and Robert Wagenhoffer. Photo courtesy "Skating" magazine.
Linda Allen's eulogy from Robert's funeral: "Robert and I met at the Santa Monica Ice Rink, which is now Fred Segals. Every time I go there to contemplate overpriced headbands and accessories, I look at the ramp and imagine myself walking down and taking my guards off while watching everyone clear the ice for Robert's program on the practice ice. But, that's where it began. Back in the late 70's Robert was part of the Santa Monica skating 'rat pack.' Tai Babilonia, Randy Gardner, Carrie Rugh, Bobby Beauchamp, Keith Green, I and others. It was this association with these people and Robert that got me out of being shy and reserved. Robert and I bonded and became life long friends. I loved his carefree approach to life. We became so close that we could finish sentences for each other. Towards the end of his competitive years, he rebelled against skating politics. But the judges were still in awe of his ability to perform so fluidly without 'playing the game.' He believed that he could, and he always did! Robert transcended the Protestant Work Ethic of "work hard and you'll be rewarded" by having an amazing natural talent as well as thinking positive. He worked 'smart,' not just long and hard. I liked that about him. One time in our late teens, we decided to drive to the Bay Area on a whim. Robert brought his skates to the rink and an up and coming skater (no names) was working hard on a triple toe loop. Robert put on his skates, stroked around the rink once (no warm up), landed the triple effortlessly, and hopped off the ice. He removed his skates and said 'let's go'! He was like that. Just to prove he could. Having fun with his talents that were limitless. Despite his disagreement with some skating politics, no one could ever take away his reputation as one of the greatest skaters of all time. Robert to me was 'Gene Kelly' on and off the ice. When troubles arose, it was easier to deal with the problems together. Then, we would escape together into a scenario that had happy ending. I mean, we would escape to a place as if we were in a movie. The Woody Allen movie "Purple Rose of Cairo" applied to our lives. He loved nature. We'd escape to a remote place somewhere. Later, we both joined Ice Capades but ended up in separate companies. I'd fly out and visit him. He'd fly out and visit me. We stayed close friends even to this day. He was always a concerned friend. He treated me with so much respect as I did him. As a close friend, we lived our lives like we were immortal. Anything was possible. Robert and I had developed a strong bond. We had intuition with each other. We both just knew. Today, I look at life with a different edge because of my formative years with Robert... With my career now that's a different aspect of the entertainment arts (interior/lighting designer), I take a little of the 'competitive' Robert into my business ethics. Know and recognize your talents and then go for it, knowing you'll have a smooth landing. It's a philosophy that works for me. My husband and I were talking about Karma on the night of Robert's death. We defined Karma as things that we do being reflected back to us in mirror form. With respect to all religions, we were thinking hypothetically: What if? When you die, you are free from your body to be anywhere and everywhere at the same time? What if? You're free to listen to everyone, moving in and out of their thoughts because you've just passed on? You're a hot topic. You're on everyone's mind. You're a part of many people's discussions. I think that's when 'karma' after this life comes in. You -- and only you -- will know how much you've impacted people's lives and made a difference at that time. So, I know that Robert is listening to all of our thoughts now. For Robert this must be a very rewarding moment. I know of so many people that have Robert to thank for their special moments, insights, and inspirations. We cruised the Internet the other night and found over 50 pages of memories involving Robert. "Wagenhoffer" is a keyword now. It's like his skating has been immortalized similar to the fine impressionist artists who received recognition after their death. When I think of Robert and how much he made me laugh and relaxed my spirit, especially during the hard times, I know that he's been a true friend to me. There will only be one Robert Wagenhoffer. I am so honored to have such a close friend pass through my life. He is charismatic, unique, non-conforming and completely charming. Orchestrating his programs and the programs of others, serenading us with his effortless dynamic skating. No tension, just the enjoyment of watching grace on ice. But more importantly, he is a confidant and a truly treasured friend. Robert, your charm and character will always stay with me. You've made your mark! In the meantime, we'll keep in touch in my dreams! Maybe it's like the analogy of 'All that Jazz.' God has probably been thoroughly entertained by Robert. He is probably clapping his hands for his life performance well done. Since Robert is a true entertainer, I would like to give Robert what he would love. Would you all join me in a final round of applause for Robert Wagenhoffer."
Memories of Robert from Kate: "Even though I was just a lowly rink rat at the West Covina Ice Arena, Robert was always so nice to me. As the younger sister of a competitive skater, I was often invisible. But, Robert saw me. He saw everyone. He made everyone feel important and special. He was truly the kindest person I have ever known. I was very young, perhaps five or so, and he brought me a little stuffed kitty. Oh, how I treasured that kitty. When 'Star Wars' came out, he took a whole car full of us to go see it. It was such a huge deal for me to be included with the big kids. I'm sure it was his doing that I was included. I saw him often in the early nineties, as my sister skated professionally. They skated together at Sea World a few years and did some touring together. Just as he had been when I was young, he was unfailingly kind. He radiated happiness, just as his parents did. What a wonderful family. We were devastated by his passing and attended his funeral as a family. It was strange to see the greats of skating, Scott Hamilton, Peter Carruthers, Tai and Randy say the same things about Robert that we did. Yes, he was a great skater. Yes, he was beautiful and exciting to watch. But, it was his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his love of life and infectious laugh that we talked about. The skating world lost an enormously respected skater, but the world lost a warm and wonderfully caring human being. Robert was someone who made the world a better place."
Memories of Robert from Doug Mattis: "When I was a kid, I watched Robert compete with wide eyes. I didn't want to blink, lest I miss something that he did. His movement seemed to ooze with ease like hard sauce drizzling over pudding. And the jumps were... jaw-dropping. I remember hearing from the kids in the ultra-cool L.A. crowd that he probably could have trained a bit harder…that he was somewhat resistant of the competitive machine demanding that he be what they wanted, on and off the ice. There were many rumours that he was gay, hissed as asides by skating officials and coaches as both put-down and explanation of why he might not be an odd-on favorite to inherit the national title. Those rumours resonated with me - they made us comrades, even though we’d only met to say hello (I was kid in novice when he was in seniors). We faced the same hate for being who we were born to be. Even though I was closeted as a teenager, I felt like Robert and I were brothers (along with the other gay people in skating that weren't the subject of so much conversation). His ability made him, to me, like Merlin…how did he do triples and quads with such ease? Let alone his fluidity of movement, extension, and musicality? His story, as told to me by people as a tacit threat not to be like him…made him, to me, like someone I knew I'd befriend at some point. We were friendly over the years. We'd see each other at parties or at the club (after he'd turned pro, while I was still competing), and he'd always have an encouraging word to say and tell me some small thing that I’d done, skating-wise, that had impressed him. Robert Wagenhoffer being nice to me was such a very, very cool thing to me. I deeply appreciated it. We saw each other briefly after Rick Scarry (a skater and Robert's close friend) had died of AIDS…and I just remember bursting into tears - even though Rick and I were just casual pals. Robert hugged me and assured me everything would be okay... when it was his friendship with Rick that I was trying to reference in my words to him, 'I'm so sorry'.) I was young, completely afraid and Robert, whom I should have been consoling, gave me a hug and told me everything would be okay. We worked together for the first time in the early nineties. He choreographed some numbers for me in a show in Miami. Every day was a joy. Robert had an easy laugh and we both liked hard work, for hours and hours on the ice sometimes, to feel like play time. And it did. He was there with his partner, Billy Lawe. Seeing the deep connection they had... it was inspiring to me. I introduced he and Billy to the gorgeous guy I was dating over dinner one night and next day during a quiet moment between stints of choreography, he said, 'Don’t hate me. That guy? You can do better.' Later Billy showed up at the rehearsal and said to Robert, 'Did you tell him, yet?' and Robert nodded, laughed, and tucked his straggly blonde hair behind his ears (as he often did). Billy said, 'Doug, we think the world of you. You can do better.' I had new brothers. A new addition to my family. Robert made sure not to choreograph 'down' to me. He challenged me, made sure I could do all of his signature moves (as a means by which to make me see the work and abandon the notion that it was all 'magic'), and he made sure the numbers he did for me were tricky - deathly tricky - so I would go on stage… every night… nervous. 'That’s how you keep your self feeling alive on skates, brother!' he would tell me, laughing. A few years later, we both starred in the Santa Rosa Christmas show - he as the primary star, me as a featured skater. Billy's health wasn't great and Robert and I had talks about how he was handling it and getting through each day. Just a season later, I starred in that same headliner role… and did a number ("Can’t Cry Hard Enough") largely based on those conversations - a kind of tribute to both Robert and all of the men that we have loved in skating and lost to AIDS. The night I heard we lost Robert I cried and cried. Skating was everything to him - his primary demon and salvation. I could say one million times 'I wish' about the things I wish for Robert - that he'd survived though protease inhibitors… that the skating machine had been more kind to him while he competed... but I know Robert would just laugh at me, tuck his hair behind his ears, and tell me to get on with being happy in my life and spreading the love. So I will."
*Source for inclusion: "Robert Wagenhoffer; Skating Champ, Choreographer", Los Angeles Times, December 17, 1999
