When you think of a Guardian Angel, the image of Thor does not immediately come to mind.

Guardian Angels guide, protect, and ward off potential danger. They don’t park a bat in the corner of their office to coax you down a righteous path.

But Bob Adams is no typical Guardian Angel. Before he became the Director of Safety, Security, and Discipline at Cardinal O’Hara High School, he spent 37 years in law enforcement – 10  of those as a police chief. He delivered four babies, delivered too many notices of tragic deaths, held people as they cried, and held his emotions in check when those cries sometimes manifested in anger.

All of it provided a unique set of skills for this second career he eventually gravitated to after retiring from the police force in 2017.

“It’s a tough job he has to do here as the disciplinarian,” says Christine Doogan, Cardinal O’Hara’s Athletic Director and the school’s successful girls basketball coach. “His job is to keep these kids in line, which he’s great at. But he’s also the first one to give a high five when they’re coming off the football field or any game. And the kids are not afraid to knock on his door and ask Bob for something to help them out during the day.”

Or even give him something. That bat in the corner? It’s actually a wiffleball bat gifted by a student, a friendly tease referencing the 1989 Movie “Lean on Me” about an inner-city principal who carried a wooden baseball bat through the halls as a metaphor, not a potential weapon.

“He gave it to me in my early days on the job,’’ says Adams. “He wanted me to walk around with it. I said, ‘Are you kidding me? I’ll get fired!’ But it still makes me laugh every time I look at it. That’s the joke.”

Well, that’s part of the joke. The other part is that Adams doesn’t need a prop to prod students toward personal and academic success. He, his example, his life and his faith – that’s the prop. He is a daily testament to a life of soulful choices and self-sacrifice. At 7:15 most mornings, before the rush of students spills into O’Hara’s hallways, Bob Adams is already there — walking the halls, checking the doors, greeting the cleaning crew, saying a prayer.

It’s what you do when you believe you’re called to be more than a security officer or a disciplinarian. Bob Adams doesn’t wear a collar or stand at the pulpit. But make no mistake — he’s as much a part of the Catholic mission at O’Hara as anyone. A face of hope in a world that sometimes feels like it’s losing its way. A friend –and when needed a fire — to kids navigating that oh-so-challenging parcel of life.

O’Hara’s Quiet Communicator

He didn’t plan it like this. Back in 1980, when he took his first police shift in Collingdale, Bob thought he was simply following in his father’s footsteps—a detective and a firefighter, a quiet man who believed you helped people because that’s what decent people do.

Four decades later, that’s still what he’s doing. But like most successful plans, it included re-routes and redesigns. When he retired from the police force in 2017, after 37 years of delivering new life and heartbreaking news sometimes inside of the same shift, he tried slowing down. You know, to enjoy a few quiet mornings, or an afternoon siesta maybe.

That lasted for three days.

Cardinal O’Hara had an opening in the athletic department–assistant athletic director. Scheduling buses. Coordinating practices. Bob signed on. And in doing so, he found something he didn’t realize he was missing: a community shaped by Catholic faith, by hope, by a belief that young people deserve to be seen, heard, encouraged, and protected.

Still, something wasn’t complete. Sports were fine. Logistics were fine. But Bob missed the mission part—the life-or-death part, the service part, so he departed for a new job. But a few months later, when the school decided to create a new role in November  — Director of Safety, Security, and Discipline — Bob chased it like… well, you know.

Two interviews later, just before Christmas, the phone rang. He was hired.

‘The Freedom to Be Who God Wants Them to Be’

Since then, he’s been O’Hara’s quiet protector. A presence in the hallways, at the games, in the offices. The guy who notices when a kid looks upset. The guy who doesn’t just enforce the rules but explains why they matter. The guy who sees every student as a child of God, not a problem to manage.

It’s a role he fits perfectly. Because he’s been on that other side of tragedy. He knows what it feels like to knock on a door with the worst news a family will ever hear. He knows what it’s like to cradle newly born human life in his hands, to feel that Celestial combination of potential and fragility.

And he knows what it’s like to feel utterly helpless when life slips away. He shares these stories with the students sometimes — not for shock value, but for truth. For perspective. For hope.

“Safety isn’t about making people afraid,” Bob says. “It’s about giving them the freedom to be who God made them to be.”

It’s about teaching, too. Adams teaches sports medicine, getting students CPR-certified, showing them that they can be heroes too. Certified students wear a little “Star of Life” sticker on their IDs—a quiet reminder that they’re ready to step up if someone needs help.

Because he knows what’s at stake. For that someone. And for the 16-year-old who is still figuring out who they are, who they want to be – in modern lexicon, what will their brand be? Late mornings and siestas? Or the kind of life Adams preaches through example mostly – strength through character, soulful servitude, the thought that every single soul in those hallways has a testament to tell.

That’s why a wiffleball bat in the corner of an office is such a great physical metaphor. Real leadership isn’t about intimidation or barking orders. Often, it’s about showing up or staying late. It’s about empathy, sympathy.

It’s about praying for others quietly, when no one else sees.

Faces of Hope aren’t always the loudest ones. Sometimes they’re just the ones who refuse to give up. The ones who keep showing up, day after day, believing that even in the messiness, even in the heartache, God is working.

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Faces of Hope is a series of stories and videos highlighting the work of those who make the Catholic Church of Philadelphia the greatest force for good in the region. To learn more about a new way forward for the Church of Philadelphia, visit TrustandHope.org. If you know someone you’d like to see featured, please reach out to editor@catholicphilly.com.