Michael Bronson Hilliard wrote @ May 5, 2009 at 4:16 pm

I have not seen or spoken with Corbett in a very long time but have admired him from afar for following his dreams and passion.

I have fond memories of his great smiling personality.

I want to express my heartfelt condolences and offer prayers of peace.

Sincerely,
Bronson

  Steve Collier wrote @ May 5, 2009 at 4:52 pm

As we all move into our “Golden Years” a time will come when the reality of leaving is a consideration in how we conduct and live our lives. But when someone is called to leave at such a young age when ordinarily there is so much more to share with a wife, children and a place I am sure he so loved, it greatly brings a depth of sorrow and sadness. I didn’t have any personal contact with Corbett except for one occasion when we used him as a model for an ad for an apartment complex. Kirsten Soderlind produced an illustration of him holding a frog with his Alamo t-shirt and a big smile. I remember him being a great kid and model. Glad we used him.

The Safari will miss him as I am sure his family and friends will the most.

Kwaheri!

  Richie Donnelly wrote @ May 5, 2009 at 5:13 pm

David and Corbett throwing a football in the street. The ball sailing through Corbett’s hands and hitting him square in the face. HIs tearful lament wishing for just “one happy day”. We laughed and he was often quoted. One happy day. Corbett the fortunate man. Finding his passion early and living it. One happy day. Africa. Ol Takai. Game preservation. One happy day. The Maasai. Protecting a gentle people. One happy day. A loved man. A life well lived. Gone too soon. A thousand happy days. Thank you Corbett, for all our days with you.

  Mike Blair wrote @ May 5, 2009 at 7:47 pm

I have always considered myself something of an adventurer. But I must admit my friend that I lived the best adventures through you. I remember the look in your eye when you were maybe three years old. It was the wide-eyed look of an old soul who had great travels in front of him. I’m sure Marco Polo had the same look. But along with that beautiful adventurous spirit beat the good heart of a gentle soul. I was never in your company that I did not feel lightened. You lived your life well my friend and you packed more into your 38 years than the rest of us do in a lifetime. You will be magnificently missed.

  Adam Galvin wrote @ May 5, 2009 at 8:37 pm

Corbett was a great human being. I will never forget when he and Micheal Kulp and I were driving along in that jeep thing he had at Colby and Corbett dove out from behind the wheel unexpectedly leaving me to dive from the back seat to the driver’s seat to control the vehicle as it did not appear that Kulp was even remotely interested in driving (of course he was in on it too).

I was in close contact with Micheal before he passed away and I know he and Corbett were buddies. Micheal was struck by lightning leading are wilderness trip in the Minnesota Boundary Waters and his passing had a profound impact on my life as I imagine it had for Corbett. The two were clearly cut from the same cloth! My sincerest condolences to his family.

  Josh Burker wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 10:19 am

I was deeply saddened to hear of Corbet’s untimely passing. I have fond memories of his typewriter collection, hardcore shows in the basement of the Watermellon, and hanging out with him and Doug Morrione in Seattle.

Corbet lived his life to the fullest and this is something that comforts me.

  Bethany Andell Haley wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 1:12 pm

I have not seen Corbett in several years but always think of him as I daydream about a future trip to Africa. Just last week I was on his website – it seems so unreal that days later I got the news. My deepest sympathy and prayers to you Cindy and David.

Bethany

  Quinn Simons wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 2:18 pm

Godamnit Man! it hurts to think about you not being around, a monumental loss to us all. The world is a less free thinking and balls to the wall place without you.
you will be missed

  Genevieve Hebert Fajardo wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 2:53 pm

I remember Corbett fondly from childhood and am so sorry for his family to hear about what happened. I know from experience that unexpected death is so hard to fathom, and grieving is a long, hard process. I pray for Corbett and especially his family, to find peace and joy one day in his memory.

  Jon Salton wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 3:03 pm

Corbett was just one of those larger than life characters that made an enormous impression on me in the 15 days spent with him in the bush. I’ve stayed in touch with him via e-mail over the years and even met him in Santa Fe once several years ago on his way through to promote his business. It’s a surprise even to me that I felt so close to someone I only spent 2 weeks with years ago, but a friend told me yesterday: “I figure a day in Africa with someone is more like a week with most people.”

With that analogy, I spent the equivalent of 15 straight weeks with Corbett and for anyone that knew him, he was simply one of those individuals that burn into your mind and psyche. He lived every minute of his life to the fullest, was passionate beyond measure about Africa and all of its inhabitants, and made a lasting impact in Tanzania and East Africa in general through his extensive conservation work there. Truly a person to admire and learn from even though his life was cut short at 38. I am quite saddened by his death, but so thankful we did cross paths for a short time in that heaven on earth that is Africa.

This is my cheers to Corbett and don’t forget to make the most of every day!!

Jon

  Jerry Alexander wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 4:59 pm

This passing is a little too much to take after Beth’s death last year.
After looking at the pictures and seeing what a great life he was living, it is hard to believe that skinny little kid with the inhaler and breathing machine named Beano grew up to live and work in Africa.
His son is the mirror image of the Beano when he was a kid.
My heart and prayers go out to Cindy, David and the rest of the crew.

  Marylen and Charlie Child wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 6:38 pm

Can not even fathom the pain of losing such an exquisite son…father…husband…friend
and…young man.
Our deepest most heartfelt sympathies on the loss a such a beautiful ray of light.
M and C

  Jason Stratti wrote @ May 6, 2009 at 11:04 pm

Corbett,
We came to Africa in grief at the loss of our brother and father Darren. Over the five months I was there you opened up your heart and home to our family.

You taught us about the reality of Africa and guided us safely on our journey. Without your support we would have been lost in an untame land, we may not have finished our brothers project; a childrens’ village in Arusha.

We had good times, great discussions and some serious discussion. We played many gigs together and I saw an intense musician, and a delicate artist… shifting between characters.

You are a larger than life Corbett, playing the staring role in many varied scripts.

I’m happy we got to talk on the phone the day before you died. I’m happy we told you we love you.

I appreciate you were there to listen. I appreciate you caring for our cause. I appreciate you understood what I was going through in Africa. I appreciate you opening up and showing a very sensitive side. A poet hidden deep within a strong warrior.

I hope your music and poetry is beamed across the globe immortalising your spirit in many ears.

  Ken Bentsen wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 7:46 am

Corbett was a good man, an excellent shot and sportsman and a great father and son. His death at such a young age is tragic, but it’s amazing, and inspiring, that he was able to do and experience more in four decades than most would only dream of accomplishing in twice that time. His quote that he had a lot “invested” in Africa is an understatement. His African life was his raison d’ etre, and he was as committed to it as if it were his native home, a Texas ex-pat bound to Africa as only Hemingway could explain. He will be dearly missed, but never forgotten.

  Tom Morrione wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 8:10 am

As will everyone whose life he touched, Nancy and I will miss Corbett greatly. Doug and Corbett came to Colby together in 1989, along with Michael Kolp, Chris Sharpe, Chris Chamberlain, Bree Jeppson, Sue Furlong, Andy Wright, and others who formed a tight circle of friends who continued to support each other. But Corbett was Corbett and he and Doug formed a special bond I think, one that encouraged Corbett to be himself (not that he ever needed much encouragement) and to express himself in wonderful, though at times unconventional ways—all the time knowing that his friends would still be there and love him.

Like the time that he and Michael lobbied Colby’s president successfully to allow them to live in “alternative housing.” I’m pretty sure that the president had no idea that Corbett planned to live in a yurt all year long—on a hill in back of his house. That’s what they did, that is until one evening when Corbett said that things slowly got brighter and brighter when he was reading some dense philosophy book. It turned out that the added illumination came not from new understanding and newly installed kerosene lamps, but rather from the yurt’s canvass roof, which their wood stove had managed to ignite. No one was hurt and after the fire engines left, driving across the president’s lawn, the College instituted a new housing policy that was less supportive of such alternative proposals. The point is Corbett was always a path breaker, someone who got done what others only thought about trying. And, he often managed to do it with refreshing flare.

Corbett had a great laugh, an utterly genuine way of smiling, and an incredibly sharp sense of humor. When others might be inclined to throw up their hands in exasperation at human folly, he excelled in finding the humor in it. Just one more short story—

Corbett got interested in our project to build a house on an island in a lake near Colby. One late January day he agreed to help me transport three, 4-foot long granite curb sections over the lake to the island house site. I couldn’t quite figure a way to get them there and Corbett suggested toboggans. Great idea—that is until we got onto the ice, which was like glass. Zero traction for us to pull them and no way to steer them once any momentum got built up. We dissolved in laughter that lasted for well over the hour that it took us to make the trip—we pushed, pulled, yanked, and shoved the toboggans and sent them zig-zagging in random directions like possessed curling stones. For years after that whenever we met we’d crack up recalling the images of ourselves engaged with abandon in that reckless folly. The lesson? For me it was Corbett’s unhesitating exuberance at engaging a new experience with his typical, “we can do that” attitude. That’s a lesson that I think many of us who knew him learned from Corbett.

My very deepest sympathy to Corbett’s family. He will be deeply and sadly missed by all of us.

Tom Morrione

  Joe Baraban wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 8:57 am

My daughter Blair was the first person to call and tell me about Corbett. I could barely understand her through her crying. When I was able to comprehend exactly what she was saying, a surreal numbness came over me and I could only sit there in disbelief.

The very first thought I had was running alongside a small river next to the dance hall in Luckenbach, Texas looking for Corbett who we all thought had been washed down stream, never to be seen again. Finally, we went up to the hall and there to our surprise was Corbett, sitting on a stool, talking to Hondo. I think Corbett was around two.

By ther way, I’m not sure, but I think I photographed that boy more than any kid in my career. He had a terrific smile.

  Sarah Wheless Murrin wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 12:44 pm

I met Corbett in high school in Houston through Larkin McReynolds. He had great vest for this gift, life. My love and prayers go out to his family and many friends.
Sarah

  Bree wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 2:35 pm

I’ve been trying to think of one story to share about amazing Corbett, and I am struggling. There are so many, and so many moments that would suggest the wonder of Corbett and the fortune I feel to have shared a small part of his life. The last time I saw Corbett was in London, just a few days before the birth of Luca. The excitement, pride, and sparkle in his eyes were just spectacular. Like all moments with Corbett, his passion seeped through him and was contagious. It was obviously a most significant moment for Corbett as father-to-be, and for us, witnesses ,so therefore somehow, mystically and magically, consumed with his joy. I can only say I am tremendously lucky to have been touched briefly by his life. He will remain an inspiration to me, in every way. My thoughts and deepest sympathies are with his family.

  scott reed wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 3:23 pm

It has been a long while since I have seen Corbett – too long, to be sure. But like many, Corbett left an indelible impression on me from the time we first met. No doubt, he was single-handedly responsible for opening my eyes to a whole new world of interests when we met early on at Colby. He was always marching to a different beat and I was always glad to join him. I cannot count the adventures we had, most often around rock climbing…so many times, he would swing by with a backpack full of gear and boundless enthusiasm. Off we would go in a relentless pursuit of fun.

Thankfully, we re-connected by email not long ago and shared updates on our families/lives. I’m glad he followed his passions. I’ll miss his his passion for adventure, his philosophizing, his infectious grin, and his always fantastic tales.

On belay, old friend.

  Tera Smith wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 6:04 pm

I knew Corbitt in junior high. We had a few classes together. And, while we were not great friends or anything, he left an impression on me that has lasted throughout the years. He was a great person who had tons of friends.

I send my condoldences to his family.

  beth sandoval wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 8:24 pm

I knew Corbett from Pershing Middle School. He was the sweetest and funniest boy I knew. He always kept us entertained in class and never a dull moment. He was definitely an unforgetable person. I remember asking my mom if we could go buy the bluebell ice cream because Corbett was on the box! Loved that smile! My prayers are with all his family and friends. Beth

  Kate Mazuy wrote @ May 7, 2009 at 10:05 pm

I was so sad to hear of Corbett’s passing just this afternoon. What a fine, crazy man the world has lost. I remember watching him eat a whole shallot, raw, delirious after 24 straight hours of travel from Africa. I remember wandering the Maine woods at night, and promises to drop whatever we were doing the moment the first snow fell. I remember the way he insisted on living at the edge and climbing on the bridge buttress as the train passed over head, just because he could. I remember the moment the drive shaft dropped off the bottom of the jeep in the middle of nowhere, Tenessee. And I will never forget his jubilant, tireless aliveness and passion. Go well, The Bishop.

  Jeanne (Hansen) McGrady wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 12:39 am

Lovely Corbett. So sad on hearing this awful news. In thinking of him, I am reminded that he seemed to always know who he was – and he was very good at being that. You will be missed…

  JK Terry wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 10:35 am

I brought a jar of “DREAMLAND” B-B-Q SAUCE to Arusha. Allan Philemon and I went to the butchery and showed the butcher how to cut the ribs we wanted to smoke. We concocted a smoker out of a metal trunk, a steel grate, and a few pieces of corrugated metal. The guys thought this mzungu was nuts for asking them to soak the wood thoroughly prior to building the fire.

Corbett dropped by. Allan and I had already opened the bottle of Glenlivet. We commenced to tell stories, laugh and “sip” as the ribs smoked and we had to constantly remind the guys not to let a flame touch the ribs. A few hours later we pulled them off the rigged smoker, slathered them with the imported sauce and enjoyed the finest rack of southern smoked pork ribs ever enjoyed on the African continent .

An awesome memory of two Southern boys and an African friend. Now I’m back in “Sweet Home Alabama” dealing with the shocking news that CB has left us. I’ll hang onto the memories for the rest of life.

“Get after it CB na Salaama mingi”

J. Kelvin Terry
Birmingham, Alabama

  Kit Moore wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 11:38 am

I spent just a short time with Corbett and have never forgotten his kindness and that way of his that let me know that he knew he was vulnerable because of it. I so appreciated the respect he showed to his gun bearers, trackers, spotters, and to the other guides. He easily and readily deferred to them at times, and never seemed to feel less a man for doing it, as some might.

I recall one night of our Safari (it was still pretty early in the evening), he led us onto a grassy plain and pointed to a particular tree and a watering hole in the distance. The closer we got the quieter he became, and I suspected something special was in store. And it was. I glanced over at him and he was grinning ear to ear, welcoming us to our home for the night. Up we went, past the almost but not quite hidden toilet perched on lower branches, on up to finally scramble atop the black tarp, the African heavens above and the water hole just beyond and below us. Of course, it was spectacular. The entire top of the gardenia tree had been flattened and laced up as tightly as a woman’s girdle by Corbett and his team. Up came our evening’s repast complete with cocktails, I loved that Corbett liked his Jack almost as much as I liked my Tangeray, and we drank and dined and whispered as elephants played throughout the warm African night.

How does a kid from Texas become a safari guide in Africa? I know he had a lot of support and encouragement from close family and dear friends, but even with all that, not many would have dreamed it and continued to dream it until he actually lived it. And along the way he made others believe their dreams too could become reality. What a wondrous gift to bestow.

I am so grateful to have had a chance to spend a small bit of time with him. Whether talking Texan drawl or African Swahili or a musical language born of many worlds, Corbett was a lovely, lovely man.

  Kellye Sanford wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 1:19 pm

This site is a wonderful tribute to an incredible soul. My heartfelt sympathy to the family for a great loss far too soon.

  Steve Wyatt wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 3:01 pm

I was shocked and saddened when I heard the news about Corbett going to the other side at an age when most of us are just beginning to really have the courage to live life on our own terms. However, I must say that it is only a special soul that was Corbett to have an honor like this. I do not know one other person who touched so many people in so short of time, who really helped make the world a better place and was lucky enough to also left an incredible legacy, Ol Tukai Conservancy and his two beautiful kids, Luca and Ella.

My wife Cate and I were lucky enough to have ventured on the most incredible Safari of a lifetime back in 2000. Corbett made our dreams and adventures come true everyday in the most effortless manner. Infact, when I got onto the plane to leave Corbett’s beloved Tanzanian Bush, tears welled up through my heart to my eyes all as a result of what Corbett had made possible for us to experience. He was a true professional and one of the finest young men I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

We can all learn from Corbett, his integrity, wisdom, big heart, good humour and his true spirit for life will live on forever.

  Alexandra Power Hanny wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 3:26 pm

I am so very sad to hear about Corbetts death. I met him in 2004 while on a fact finding mission with the Annenberg foundation in Tanzania. Corbett was so exuberant and so much fun that our whole crew loved him. In 2006b I went to Kenya as I wanted to do a documentry on Independent spirits, basically characters who are doing works that have a positive impact on the world or peoples lives. I emailed Corbett and he was wonderful at setting me up with emails of people I should connect with. He was also super encouraging which I really appreciated.
To his children- I lost my father and I know how hard it is but if I learnt something from him its that if you can encourage someone, even if you hardly know them, you must. Your father was a lovey man who lived his life to the fullest, whle always being kind to people. The world needs more people like him. I so sorry for your loss.

  Drew Sudduth wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 3:57 pm

Hell-Ride

From Drew Sudduth – childhood friend

This story came to me all of a sudden while thinking back on my memories of Corbett Bishop. It’s pretty silly but it always makes me laugh just thinking about it. I figured that it might be worth sharing since in my mind it encapsulates a part of Corbett’s spirit. The amazing thing is that, for each one or two of these crazy stories we all have, Corbett must have had hundreds since he inspired everyone around him to follow him on his adventures. Like a lot of people, I always assumed I would follow him to Africa one day.

I can’t place the date and the details are rusty but it must have been my junior or senior year in high school – 1987/88 time frame. I remember that he just showed up at my house one day and knocked on the door. Corbett was on his skateboard and he was wondering if I wanted to join him. I had retired from skateboarding in the third grade but he somehow talked me into dusting off my old 70’s era skateboard and hitting the street. I lived around the corner from Rice Stadium so we meandered over there without any particular plan in mind.

My recollection is that we just sort of found ourselves at the top of the long ramp that takes the players down onto the football field. What luck – we didn’t know what we were looking for but this seemed to fit the bill – a halfway decent challenge anyway. We both just looked at each other and smiled. We shoved off and slowly started down the ramp but, within seconds, I for one was reconsidering my decision. It didn’t look that steep from the top but as we picked up speed I realized that I couldn’t stop and I was in for a hell-ride whether I liked it or not. If I said we were going 60 miles an hour and there were flames shooting out of the back I don’t think I would be exaggerating. It is a miracle that I stayed on the whole way down but, after breaking the sound barrier, our eyes got even bigger when we saw the speed bump at the bottom – this was not part of the plan. We both hit the bottom at the same time and went catapulting out onto the Astroturf – barely missing the goal post and somersaulting end-over-end until finally stopping at about the 30-yard line. After a long silence, with bruises and burns from the Astroturf all over us, we just started laughing and laughing.

Declaring a Pyrrhic victory and with somewhat stunned looks on our faces, we trudged our bruised and battered frames back up the ramp. No… we didn’t go back down the ramp. We’re not that stupid. We were both done for the day and I think that was the last time I was ever on a skateboard. Corbett didn’t stop though and he went on looking for adventure until he found Kilimanjaro. Looking back, this seemingly inconsequential encounter with Corbett turned into probably one of the wildest rides of my life. Sometimes I cringe a little when I think about careening through the air onto the field- we both could have gotten decently hurt – but I still brag about it whenever I am at Rice Stadium. I’m just glad he decided to knock on my door and take me with him. I would love to be able to ask Corbett about his recollection of that day – probably just another day in the life for him.

  John Cox & Nancy Dinsmore wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 6:52 pm

My wife, Nancy, and I met Corbett when he helped guide a NatGeo trip on the northern Tanzania route (Ngorogoro and Serengeti). A great guy and lots of fun; I had hoped to catch up with him at least once more.

‘I see the bright lights of Memphis and the Commodore Hotel’

  Becky Gonzales Mayo wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 8:17 pm

To Corbett’s Mom, Cindy, and his family,

I send my heartfelt condolences. Let his memory sustain you at this time.

He must have been a shining light in his journey on earth, doing what he loved best.

Love, Becky Mayo

  Ralph Coatsworth wrote @ May 8, 2009 at 10:50 pm

I did not come to Lamar from Pershing, Lanier or River Oaks Baptist. I went into a new high school without any of my middle school or neighborhood friends … I was a 14 year old nervous wreck. Before my Freshman year started I went to a 2 week summer school program and Corbett was the 1st person I met. He introduced me to his friends … Sarah, Mica, Blake, etc. and really made me feel welcome.

For lunch, during one of those summer school days, he invited me to walk from Lamar to Beck’s Prime for lunch. It had only been open for a few weeks, if not days. I was scared to death that we would get lost, get in trouble, return for class, but for Corbett it was just getting lunch.

I never thanked him, but he was my first impression of of my high school classmates and he gave me the confidence that all HS freshman want and need to get through those years.

Let me also say that one of the funniest moments in HS was watching Corbett climb out of Ms. Noble’s Biology class 1st floor window, during class, only to walk back into class a few minutes later – Ms. Noble never skipped a beat as she read the daily outline off of the blackboard. In Corbett’s defense, it was a boring class and he was just trying to give it “some energy”.

Corbett, it’s a credit to you that you will be so greatly missed by so many people on two different continents and your children are fortunate to have had such a wonderful role model and influence as their father. God bless you and your family.

  James Stevens wrote @ May 11, 2009 at 10:21 am

Cindy and David,

I have no words to make this day any better for you both. I never knew Corbett even though I may have seen him at one of those old Art Director’s functions and not known who he belonged to at the time. I am sorry I never met him. He was evidendly a great kid and a great person. Time moves so quickly as we get older and alot of the old memories fade. I think of all the old art directors, illustrators, designers, photographers and such from the past and remember the great and not so great times. I wish for you to remember the great times you had with Corbett and the wonderful life he had, even as short as it was. Please accept my condolences.
James Stevens

  Bill Large wrote @ May 11, 2009 at 10:46 am

The first thing that came to mind was how one of the Heck children referred to Corbett as Carpet. His leaving so soon is such a tragedy. It makes him even more of a larger-than-life legend.

  Margaret Lee Pinkston wrote @ May 11, 2009 at 12:45 pm

Though I was a year behind Corbett’s graduating class at Lamar, I was ahead in my science and math, so I was lucky to have a couple of classes with Corbett. In those classes, Corbett and I shared many stories about our love of traveling the world. I grew up in Mauritius, an island SE of Africa. He always got a hoot out of calling me a Mauritian; he thought it was funny since it kinda sounded like he was calling me a martian. That was the silly side of Corbett. He would always ask me questions about growing up there, so it wasn’t surprising that after making a trip to Africa himself, that one day, he would live there himself, and during his lifetime there, he was able to influence so many lives locally and internationally. His free spirit and his love for people and nature will be sorely missed. Those of us who had the pleasure of knowing Corbett are truly blessed.

  Peter Selig wrote @ May 11, 2009 at 3:51 pm

Regretfully, I was never able to go on safari with Corbett, but hosted him to family and friends one evening in San Antonio several years ago. His enthusiasm for the natural world was an inspiration that hopefully his children will carry on, for we all know that due to people like Corbett, who paid intense attention to nature, then told of his experiences, that such stories will help improve our planet’s chance for survival. Corbett, may your joy and excitement and concern for the natural world be transmitted to many more people through often told stories of yours.

  Kenneth Obote wrote @ May 12, 2009 at 7:09 am

I still cannot get over the news of the death of Corbett, especially considering that it was not a long while ago that he called me and with the ever present enthusiasm in his voice, informed me that he planned to come to Uganda, and could we meet?

I first met Corbett in the fall of 1991. We were both freshmen at Colby College. I was from Africa, and he was from Texas and one would have been forgiven for thinking that two people with absolutely nothing in common could not be got anywhere.. It was Jesse Salisbury, my roommate, who introduced us, and it is an image of Corbett from that first meeting that ha endured for me since. Both he and Jesse were seated on the ground when I approached them and when Jesse did the honors, Corbett got up, wiped his right hand on the seat of his hands, checked to make sure it was clean, and then gave me a firm handshake! I was to see him do it many more times, but it is that first time for me that defines Corbett. He made you feel worthy!

Corbett’s interest in Africa was apparent even then. During visits to my room, or conversations at meal times, he always inevitably steered the conversation to Africa. And after so many “daft” questions I had been asked about Africa, it was a great relief to meet someone with whom I could have an “intelligent” conversation about Africa. Once, he asked me what I thought of colonialism and whether I felt proud of our independence and I said, “independence from what? Not only our countries were colonized but our minds as well and we have never been able to free our minds. Go read ‘Petals of Blood’”. The fact is I was young then and I was a radical, and Ngugi’s petals of Blood was my time’s Fanon’s Wretched of the Earth.

Anyway, I did not think Corbett would take me up on that dare and never thought much about it until about a week later when I was playing intramural soccer for my house and Corbett who had come to watch begun cheering me on as Shakespeare everytime I had the ball. We had a good laugh about it later and I remember thinking to myself., “Jesus, and I always thought Petals was only serious stuff!” But that was Corbett. He always found something worth a good laugh in any situation.

One day, about a month into my time in Colby, I stopped by Corbett’s room on my way back from the library. He was watching the Rockets play the Bulls and while everthing think basketball then was about ‘being like Mike, I knew nothing about the Rockets, leave alone Olajuwon. So when Corbett asked me which team I wanted to win and I said the Bulls he looked at me with mock horror (I realized only later) and said “oh, get out of here”. I, in turn was horrified by his rudeness and with a burning face, got out of his room. I really felt so bad then that when Jesse came in later he asked me whet the matter was. I told him I did not think I wnated to be friends with Corbett any more because he had told me to get out of his room just because I supported the Bulls. Jesse burst out laughing, because, as it turned out he had also stopped by Corbett’s room and had found Corbett puzzled by the rude way I had left his room without even a polite good night! We all went back to Corbett’s room and had a good laugh and I never again took offense from anybody unless I first cleared with Jesse or Corbett. But because of that simple incident, Corbett and I moved from the polite realm of acquaintances to the carefree world of friends. That friendship endured, even after we left Colby and went our separate ways.

The good ones die young, so we say in Africa, and Corbett was good. I only wish, Corbett, that you had stayed a little longer!

Farewell, my friend.

Ken (Shakespeare)

  Michel Binon wrote @ May 12, 2009 at 9:02 am

I remember my first visit to Corbett and Camilla, upon arrival in Tanzania, at Oldonyo Orok. They made it such a charming place. I felt immediatly at home there. Corbett was such an elegant host.

Corbett, we are with you in spirit, for ever.

Michel and family

  Susan Highsmith and Dan Graveline wrote @ May 12, 2009 at 5:11 pm

The bright daylight of an African afternoon must surely be dim at the passing of such an incredible soul. Here in Atlanta, Georgia; Dan & I are shocked and profoundly saddened by the early passing of Corbett. He created, lead, inspired every single person he met and was a life spirit who blazed a new trail every day.

He planned the most wonderful Safari for David Shaheen’s Fabulous 50 in June of 2006. 17 of us were guests on this amazing journey planned by Corbett. He planned and executed the most incredible Safari —- we will NEVER forget our time in Tanzania and the inspiring CORBETT BISHOP!

Dan and Susan Graveline Georgia USA

  Stewart Allen and Thomas Pope wrote @ May 12, 2009 at 9:07 pm

We were part of the Shaheen Party of 2006; a magical mystery tour of epic fun, laughter, adventure, and awakenings, organized and led by Corbett.
What a passionate gift Corbett gave to the world. His love and enthusiasm for Africa opened all our eyes to the gloriously sublime world of Tanzania. His smile and charm combined with his knowledge and understanding created a world-class guide. He leaves behind a large footprint that outlines and defines a man who made a difference to those he inspired on safari and to the people and land of Tanzania. He touched so many.
Thank you Corbett.

  Hillery Hugg wrote @ May 12, 2009 at 10:53 pm

Corbett and I had the rare distinction of not only being two Texas kids who found themselves in the far reaches of Maine for our freshman year at Colby College, but we even hailed from the same senior class at Lamar High School. In high school, Corbett was known as a true and kind friend, an adventure seeker and master mischief maker. He was someone who knew, as most of us didn’t at the time, that there was something bigger out there waiting for all of us, that life would and should be about revelation and risk.

At Colby, Corbett seemed to find his element, taking to the beauty and wildness of the surroundings in a way that was instinctive and respectful, presaging in many ways the larger path his life would take as a conservationist and explorer. I can clearly see Corbett on campus, striding across the lawn as I can imagine he later did across the plains of Africa, with a smile and an openness for any experience. Corbett never waited for anything to come to him – he met the world head on.

Having been to Africa to visit my husband’s family and birthplace, I understand what drew Corbett there and captivated him. I’d hoped we’d go back with our two children and meet up with Corbett there, to have him show us his Africa. I’m in disbelief that this won’t ever happen.

His mother is such a wonderful, gifted person. I hope it can be comforting that her son did not live a resigned life or a muffled life or a withheld life – and that he did not keep it to himself but shared it absolutely with the world. But I’m sure she, as his mother, knew from his earliest years that he never would.

  Carla and Scott Swenson wrote @ May 13, 2009 at 12:15 pm

Dear Cindy,

Please know how much Scott and I have been thinking of you these past days.

As a mother, I can’t begin to imagine your pain. Also as a mother, I know how proud you must be to have created a son filled with a sensitive spirit, incredible love for adventure, and passion for life. It is so wonderful to get to know Corbett through this site, thank you for sharing.

Please know we are thinking of you.

Carla and Scott Swenson, Lakeway, TX

  Doc wrote @ May 13, 2009 at 3:29 pm

Of course
I still have
The lion’s tooth
You gave me.

Keep it under
Your hat
Not literally
Of course.

I gave you
My pocket knife
For your birthday
Now give me a penny
Of course.

I really believe
You’re still around
Whenever you’re in
A thought or dream
Of course.

  Meredith Bentsen wrote @ May 13, 2009 at 6:49 pm

Hey, so Corbett was always a role model. My parents were very close with his parents. I’m quite a bit younger. Anyways, he was awesome, and I still can’t comprehend that he’s gone. He had a great smile, and he was just a great all around man. Here’s to you Corbett, here’s to you.
-Mer

  Kelly (Bone) Gurgos wrote @ May 14, 2009 at 11:57 am

As I’m sure everyone else has done, I sat here in front of my computer reading others’ comments, remembering Corbett, crying and laughing at the same time…. I remember both the clown and the friend who had a way of remembering things, and making each person feel special.

Valerie’s memory of 7th grade Texas History reminded me of an early Corbett hijinx… I sat near Corbett as well – we were probably in alphabetical order – Bishop, Bone, Bricker… Our teacher was unpleasant, and yelled, a lot. We were about to take a test, but I still remember the atmosphere in the classroom being pretty damn rowdy and loud. Corbett sat at his desk launching his pencil – just a few inches in the air – with a rubber band and trying to catch it. Until temptation got the best of him. Mrs. Price started her demands as she passed out the tests, “Put away your books! Clear your desks! Quiet down! You only need one pencil, everything else needs to be put away!” After a few minutes, the room got quiet as everyone got started, except for Corbett, who was sitting straight up in his desk, hands folded on top of his paper. He had his closed-lipped smile on his face. I sat at my desk, trying very hard not to laugh out loud, because I knew why he wasn’t doing his test… Seeing him sitting there smiling, looking a bit like Jeff Spicolli, Mrs. Price sighed hard, knowing there was a story to be heard. She walked over to where we sat, and asked as quietly as a frustrated woman could, “Corbett, why haven’t you started your test?” “I don’t have my pencil.” Almost afraid to ask, she said, “Corbett, where is your pencil?” Corbett, still smiling his smile, very simply pointed up above his head. He’d shot the pencil up into the ceiling tile, where it stuck. She looked up at the ceiling, saw the pencil, frowned, clicked her tongue, and then said, “Boy!” She walked over to her desk to get him a pencil and was heading back to hand it to him , when his dropped out of the ceiling, bounced off of his desk, and landed on the floor beside us. He sat back up and said, “Never mind! I found my pencil!” Couldn’t help it -we cracked up.

Another thing I thought of was the time that Corbett and other people from school got to go be guest DJs at a radio station – maybe KRBE ?- anyway, definitely top 40/ pop. I saw him in the hall at school the day before the night he was going, and told him to have fun and good luck at the radio station, and he patted me on the head and said, “I’ll play “Bitchin’ Camaro” for you, OK?”

Heaven will be a lot more fun now…..

  Lauren McEntire wrote @ May 14, 2009 at 3:06 pm

I have very found memories from my childhood of spending time around Cindy, David, and Corbett. Corbett was about ten years older than me so I was old enough to remember seeing him as a male cheerleader in highschool. I never realized that males could be cheerleaders until that moment. i thought it was weird but he seem so excited. I think he was the first boy I had a crush on that actually tried to talk to me. He was always so friendly and interested in the lives of my sister Megan and I. He had quite an impact on my life when I was a rebellious teenager and I will never forget him. My heart goes out to Cindy, David, Camila and the kids. I am so sorry for your loss.

  Jo wrote @ May 15, 2009 at 1:53 am

Dear Cindy and David,

My thoughts have been with you over the last two weeks. I cannot imagine the pain and feeling of senseless loss that you must be going through. It is only now that I have begun to reflect consciously on what has passed, and even still the picture refuses to come in to focus for me.

My life both in Africa, and even before that, has in so many ways paralleled that of Corbett’s. Raised since I was two by Mum and step-father, came to Africa as a wide-eyed 18 year old, took over from Corbett as Kilimanjaro Mountain Guide, safari guiding, running Oliver’s Camp with Paul, conservation work, married here, children, and finally neighbours for the last few years. We spent so much time together on safari with each other’s guests, and our goal of enjoying the bush with both lightness and seriousness in equal measure was our uniting passion.

We have laughed and sparred (literally in some cases with our epees) over Sunday lunch, shared great food and even better wine, spent days in the bush with the kids and afternoons in the sparkling waters of Momella. We were alike in so many respects, but so different in others.

Cindy, you came to our wedding in Tarangire all those years ago. Corbett herded a group of barely controllable Masai warriors during the service by the swollen river, and then later, after they had eaten too much goat and drunk too many Safari Lagers, he scooped them up and drove them back to their village through the velvet black African night. For so many years that I knew him he was more Morani than Mzungu. The lightness, sense of fun and thirst for crazy challenges and experiences so perfectly echoes that period of uncensored, responsibility-free carte blanche that a young Masai man enioys. Maybe he just never really could lay that Spear down!

“If I know a song of Africa, of its cool mornings, giraffes on the plains and the trees in the mountains, does Africa know a song of me?”

This (roughly quoted!) from Out of Africa. It is the endless gnawing feeling with which we struggle. We, who despite feeling profoundly connected with so much of Africa’s wild land, will never in reality be part of this curious, challenging, rewarding and magnificent continent. But judging from the tributes in this guest book, people out there connected to Corbett, touched by him and inspired by him will all remain with their own songs of Corbett and his Africa. I personally have many songs of Corbett, but will steal this one from Walt Whitman as an elegy for him today. I rediscovered it recently, and i know Corbett knew it well:

Song of Myself

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self contain’d,
I stand and look at them long and long,
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty with god,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

All my love to you and everyone else over there in Houston.

Jo x

  Bill Dunlap & Linda Burgess wrote @ May 19, 2009 at 9:41 am

To see East Africa through Corbett’s eyes is one of the true exotic pleasures of our lives. His passion for and knowledge of the place ran deep – and he shared it unstintingly. Africa, and Corbett’s friends and family can ill afford to lose him – but we have.

  Molly and Don Glentzer wrote @ May 19, 2009 at 11:50 am

Dear Cindy and David,
We’ve been thinking of you every day with love and sincere sympathy.
Although didn’t know Corbett, really, beyond having met him briefly years ago — we felt like we knew him through your stories and photos.
What an amazing, rich life he lived — more fulfilling than most of us can even imagine. (Hearing more about him at his memorial service last week impressed this upon us even more.)
We’ve heard that when a member of an elephant herd dies, the other elephants gather around it and perform a ritual, extending their trunks to touch its tusks. Corbett, of course, would be able to tell us if this is actually true. If it is, perhaps he even saw it happen once or twice.
In any event, our touch goes out to you.

  Jake Chitiz wrote @ May 22, 2009 at 11:56 pm

I met Corbett about 7 years ago. He impressed me greatly and I am very sad to hear that he has passed on. I wish his wife and children strength and courage and my deepest sympathies. His parting is a great loss for Africa.

Jake

  Sharon Insul wrote @ May 26, 2009 at 6:56 pm

A freckled face little bruiser running one step behind a demanding and commanding butterfly.
Wait for me ,he said. No, follow me said the butterfly continuing on her way. Oh no ,we will do it together !!!!!!!!! The butterfly paused in flight,gave one of her all knowing smiles and a lifelong friendship and kinship was born.
30 plus years ago and the memory is as fresh as each sunrise. Corbett ,through out his life was strong ,resilient and indefatigable . Corbett climbing mountains that we mortals do not see and, his childhood butterfly, my niece Beth, flying to her next adventure that we can barely imagine will now never be but a step apart.

  Liz Astor wrote @ June 2, 2009 at 11:12 am

Corbett took my brother, step daughter and I up Killimanjaro in September 1999. He was the most wonderful company, funny, interesting, a man with a huge and generous heart. Later, in 2006 I published a book called Loving Olivia, about brining up my autistic daughter and wrote about my first fundraising attempt, which was climbing Killi with Corbett. We kept in touch via email, but I only managed to tie in with him once in the past 10 years. I am deeply saddened by his death and my heart goes out to his wife and children, his parents and siblings. I expect he is flying around with the angels now.

  Justin Bell wrote @ June 5, 2009 at 5:54 pm

To all who knew and enjoyed Corbett’s company, and especially to his family in the USA and in East Africa…

The news of Corbett’s death brought me back to the reality of how unpredictable and ephemeral our lives seem. My thoughts and condolences go to all his family and friends.

Corbett and I apprenticed on Kilimanjaro together. He was definitely a character and was lots of fun to be around.

We had discussions way into the night a couple of times, and these had a tendency to degrade into shouting matches and calls for another shot of whisky. We would then end up sitting on the porch looking at the stars and philosophising or listening to some blues or country & western music full blast.

He was extremely talented, knowledgeable about all kinds of things, and this he liked to blend with raw Texan…. whiskey, croc skin boots, American pride, chillies and guns.

We measure time with our clocks, diaries, photo albums and calendars, but in our minds it is elastic, and changeable: long and ancient when our memories are clear, and random, fuzzy and confused at other times.

Anyone who has been on a great adventure wonders at how in so few days so much has happened. How time seems to behave differently to when we are in our 9-5 schedules. We have to think hard to remember what we did yesterday, never mind last week! But only a week has passed in our measuring system.

Corbett had a full life, filled it to the brim, had fun, adventures, brought lovely kids into the world, played great music, laughed, partyed, and lots more.

  Deb Keener wrote @ July 9, 2009 at 4:02 pm

David,

I can’t tell you how sorry I am. My heart goes out to you & your family.

Deb

  Jay Field wrote @ July 17, 2009 at 12:27 am

I was saddened to go to my mailbox today, pull out my copy of the Colby magazine and read of Corbett’s untimely passing. Though we weren’t close friends, I feel like I got to know Corbett well enough to realize, almost immediately, what an original he was. They truly broke the mold with this guy–cracked it right through To the core and tossed it in the scrap heap. The Corbett I remember was a brilliant, witty conversationalist, who pushed friends and even casual acquaintencs to step out of convention and limitation, and live freely and blissfully in the moment. God bless you Corbett and may your family draw on you spirit of wonder and possibility to sustain them, as they go forward.

  Jeff Copp wrote @ July 18, 2009 at 10:38 am

Thinking about what to write has taken me back in time through lots of memories. Because I worked with Cindy for several years, I had some contact with Corbett. I remember him as a wide eyed, barefoot and loveable kid. He could be both devious and innocent at the same time. Though our encounters were brief and infrequent, he had a talent for putting a smile on my face.
Corbett was priveledged to have Cindy as his mom. Cindy was priveledged to have Corbett as her son.
Although I’m very sad for Cindy, Corbetts family and friends, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw pictures of Ella and Luca. They both have the same face, that same look that Corbett had when he was five and six years old and always managed to put a smile on my face.
Greive, mourn and cry. But, cherish the gifts Corbett left behind. Remeber the things that made us smile. What wonderful memories we all have

  Tricia Cramblet wrote @ July 27, 2009 at 12:35 am

I am devastated to hear about Corbett. I didn’t know him very well…I did a brochure for him several years ago…but he seemed so young to have chosen such a big life. I had great admiration for him and his exotic world.

I just found out about his passing a day ago, and after looking at pictures of his beautiful children I cannot imagine what sense it makes for the world to lose one of the good guys. It makes no sense.

I am so sorry for your family’s loss.

  kara stearns wrote @ August 4, 2009 at 11:06 pm

Well, like many here, Corbett left such an impression…my experince wtih him was limited, but true, and awesome. He was crazy fun, and truly so kind. A rare and beautiful combination.

His presence…an incredible, animated, honest smile and a heart to match…I dare anyone to say differently.

A gravitational spell of a person.

I could tell you about a crazy hike (I think we were off trail, shocking), but what I rememer more was his listening one night, when I was feeling, as I do from time to time, the sadness of my mum’s departure from life. I cannot describe, but he was so kind, so caring and so understanding. And his hug, well…a Corbett hug is a hug indeed.

I feel lucky to have known him, and believe he will be inspirational in whatever path he travels upon, for I expect….and truly hope, that for him, the journey will not ever end.

To his family, my kindest and deepest sympathy.

Kara

  Tonya Spell wrote @ October 6, 2009 at 11:13 am

When Hunter told me the news of Corbett’s passing, I couldn’t believe it. Among my first words were “what, wasn’t he our age???”. I only met Corbett once in the early 1990′s (either over Thanksgiving or Christmas) but know the family well and know how highly respected he was by all who knew him. Cindy (& David), I am terribly sorry for your loss, but I know you take comfort and pride in knowing how great of a person Corbett was and how much of life he really lived. Those who live much longer often do not take advantage of opportunities given to them. One can not say the same for Corbett and is a lesson many of us should learn from! Take care of your business now as you never know how much more time we have!

Billy, Hunter, and Whit – my thoughts and prayers have and will be with you. I just found out about this website at the wedding or would have written sooner!

God bless.

  James wrote @ October 16, 2009 at 2:23 am

We knew Corbett from Ol Tukai Lodge. He was a friend of ours and we will dearly miss him. We had great moments with him, he knows us so well, we are great friends and we offer our heartfelt condolences to his family. Ol Tukai Lodge is Amboseli’s haven for watching elephants and Corbertt knew is all too well.

  Raaji S. Bharij wrote @ November 11, 2009 at 7:46 am

I am pretty out of place with most of the people that have left comments on this guest page in that i had only spoken to Corbett on the phone twice, and met him only once- and that too- over business.

however i think that makes the point that has driven so many to post on this site, you could have known him for his entire life or for five minutes, but he left an everlasting impression. I shall never forget his kindness and manner, and whilst saddened by his passing, i thank god that i got to meet him.

My prayers go out to his family.

  Sue Ritchey Dobbs wrote @ February 14, 2010 at 7:33 pm

What an amazing life! I did not know Corbett, but after reading all about his life and family, I have learned that this was a unique young man who lived his life to the fullest and with much love. To his family, I am deeply sorry for your loss.
Rod, it has been many years since Paris , that
I have had any communication with you. Please know that you and your family will be in my prayers. Judy told me of your son’s death.
I have just gone through this pain with a dear friend of mine who lost her son this past Nov.from natural causes as well and left behind 2 beautiful daughters and a wife. He too was 38. I have a 38 yr. old daughter and cannot imagine the pain.
My deepest sympathy,
Sue