In Macomb, where everyone seems to know everyone, there’s one name that rings out with a particular warmth and familiarity: Babs. Whether it’s a casual greeting in the hallway, a pat on the shoulder, or a wave from across the street, Robert “Babs” Babcock is more than just a familiar face at Macomb High School—he’s a local legend, a living embodiment of the community spirit that defines this close-knit town.

Babs’ journey with Macomb High School began many years ago, long before most of today’s students were even born. A graduate of the class of 1977, Babs has the unique distinction of being a man who never really left school. “I went to school here,” Babs recalls. “I spent three years here and I was in a class called ‘Learn on a Job.’ The teacher said, ‘We can get you a job.’” And so, as a sophomore, Babs started working with the school’s custodians, a job that quickly became much more than just a way to earn some extra money.

Over the years, Babs has become an integral part of the school’s fabric. After graduation, he was given a key to the building—a symbolic gesture that marked the beginning of his 47-year tenure at Macomb High. “I never left,” he says with a chuckle, and it’s true—Babs has been a constant presence, quietly keeping the school running smoothly and offering a friendly smile to everyone who crosses his path.

But Babs’ contributions to Macomb High School go far beyond his official duties. He’s the kind of person who makes everyone feel welcome, whether they’re a nervous freshman on their first day or a seasoned teacher returning for another year. One of the most endearing aspects of Babs’ presence at the school is his habit of handing out candy—an act of kindness that began years ago and has since become his trademark. “I used to visit people in the nursing home, and one day I met a man who gave me some money to buy candy for the kids,” Babs explains. “I started out with Jolly Ranchers, then bubble gum, and then mints.” The candy isn’t just a treat; it’s a way for Babs to connect with the students, to put a smile on their faces and remind them that someone cares.

Babs’ kindness isn’t limited to the school hallways. He’s known throughout the community as someone who’s always ready to lend a hand, whether it’s at Walmart, where he’s often spotted with candy in hand, or in church, where his father once served as a minister. “My dad taught me to reach out to people,” Babs says, reflecting on the values that have guided him throughout his life. It’s a lesson he’s taken to heart, and one that has endeared him to generations of Macomb residents.

Life hasn’t always been easy for Babs. A few years ago, he suffered a heart attack—a serious setback that took him out of commission for a few months. But true to form, Babs bounced back with resilience and determination. “I got a defibrillator put in,” he says matter-offactly. “If I do something wrong, it’ll shock me.” But despite the health scare, Babs returned to Macomb High School, ready to continue his work and his mission of spreading kindness.

One of the most touching aspects of Babs’ story is the way the community rallied around him during his recovery. When he didn’t show up to open the school one morning, people immediately knew something was wrong. Cards, letters, and visits poured in, a testament to the impact Babs has had on the lives of so many. “I still get cards from kids,” he says, his voice tinged with gratitude. It’s clear that Babs isn’t just a school custodian—he’s a friend, a mentor, and a beloved figure in the Macomb community.

Babs recently retired after 47 years of service, leaving behind a legacy that will be felt for years to come. But even in retirement, he remains a part of the Macomb High family, a fixture in the town he’s called home for so long. “I try to reach out to people,” Babs says simply, summing up the philosophy that has guided him through nearly five decades of service. And in doing so, he has touched countless lives, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts of those who know him.

As the students and staff of Macomb High School continue to pass through the hallways where Babs once worked, they carry with them the lessons of kindness, generosity, and community that he has so lovingly imparted. And while Babs may no longer be sweeping the floors or handing out candy in the hallways, his spirit will always be a part of Macomb High—a reminder of the power of a simple smile, a kind word, and a piece of candy to make the world a better place.

As our conversation was coming to a close, before we headed out to the hallway near the main office to take his photograph, he mentioned again how much he loves sharing these small morsels of compassion disguised as candy with everyone he encounters. Walking side by side, I looked over and said, “Well Babs, how ‘bout me? Don’t I rank?!” Without breaking stride, he tossed me a pair of Tootsie Rolls. As the community has known for years, Babs is a memorable guy and a friend to all. I smile, toss a Tootsie Roll into my mouth, and head into the hallway in the knowledge that now Babs is my friend too.