Awards
“I Remember This One Time with Bob Barrie...”
Jun 17, 2024
Get to know our Creative Hall of Fame inductees with stories from their friends
Get to know our Creative Hall of Fame laureates with stories from their friends and colleagues
The Creative Hall of Fame has a rich history dating back 60 years that has honored more than 225 men and women in advertising, design, branding, illustration, photography, typography, and education. And this September 5, we will be adding nine more incredible individuals to that list, alongside recognizing the Type Directors Club’s TDC Medalist. You’ll want to grab your tickets and tables today!
In celebrating these nine inductees, we wanted to move away from simply posting their work and many accomplishments, and instead get the inside scoop from their friends and colleagues. We gave them each the prompt “I remember this one time when...” and encouraged them to share stories from the laureates’ pasts. They could be funny, poignant, a little bit embarrassing — or even all three!
First up is the Midwest legendary art director Bob Barrie, who spent more than twenty years shaping Fallon into the international creative powerhouse it was known to be. Along the way, he has earned just about every industry accolade, including 43 One Show Pencils. He even served as the One Club Board President from 1998 to 2001. And it's not like Bob has put away his markers and mousepad; today he is Partner and Executive Creative Director at Rise and Shine and Partners.
Advertising is all about storytelling, and boy do Bob’s friends have some tales to share!

Bruce Bildsten
ECD, Best Buy
(Believe me, I was tempted to be far less serious about Bob. But it’s all about the work, isn’t it?)
One thing you have to know about Bob is that deep down inside, he’s twelve years old. Case in point? You could be eating at the best restaurant in the world, and he’d reach over and eat off your plate. But that kid inside of him is what made his work so accessible and so universal. And that was especially true of what I consider his most important work of all, for United Airlines.
I was kind of Bob’s creative director for a time at Fallon because he chose to do the work rather than spend his time in meetings as a CD. We were working together on a new campaign for United Airlines. It was a Saturday morning and Bob and his partner asked me to come into the office to look at an idea for United. They felt they might have something, which meant they really had something.
As I remember it, I came into a room, and a table was covered in The New Yorker magazine covers. Bob asked me to watch a video on TV while they cued Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue.” It was the iconic soundtrack that Leo Burnett had used for United Airlines for decades. Fallon, being the “new” agency hadn’t used it yet. But Bob and his partner recognized its power and were about to give it a new twist.
They had the VHS cued to an iconic scene from Disney’s Fantasia. “Rhapsody in Blue” paired with some of the world’s best animation? Just brilliant. But Bob wasn’t done. He and his partner then took those beautiful New Yorker covers and added equally beautiful headlines. Since Bob had written a few of “my” headlines when we were a creative team, I’m sure he had a hand in that as well. And remember, this was still the golden age of print and posters, so they were as important as the TV.
Bob and his Fallon team enlisted the best animators and illustrators in the world to bring that campaign to life. The work elevated the most mundane airline cliches, like a flight attendant pouring coffee for a passenger, to the level of art, both visually and musically. And to top it all off, they somehow convinced Robert Redford to do the voiceover, even though this was long before every celebrity sold their soul to do a Super Bowl commercial. Most importantly, their campaign extended well beyond advertising, with those stunning illustrations gracing everything from O’Hare signage to ticket jackets. It elevated United at every point and made flying feel important again.
My own biased opinion is that Bob’s United campaign remains the greatest airline campaign in history. And I was glad to give up the french fries on my plate to be in his presence when it came to life. Welcome to The One Club’s Creative Hall of Fame, old friend.
“I was glad to give up the French fries on my plate to be in his presence when it came to life. Welcome to The One Club’s Creative Hall of Fame, old friend.”
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David Lubars
CHAIRMAN & CCO, BBDO New York
Creative Hall of Fame 2017 Inductee
I remember when I started at Fallon, I was intimidated by all the famous names at the agency, people I’d long looked up to. Felt weird to all of a sudden be their boss. Bob noticed my discomfort and said, “Hey, you know what, don’t feel nervous about this; we need you to be the leader doing what you do so we can be better doing what we do.” Those few words meant more to me than he could know, and we went on to have an extraordinary run together. Thanks for that, Bob.
“Bob noticed my discomfort and said, “Hey, you know what, don’t feel nervous about this; we need you to be the leader doing what you do so we can be better doing what we do.”
Also, it’s cool Bob had a Starship Enterprise pizza slicer, where the round part of the ship is the actual cutting wheel. Well, it’s cool if you’re cool enough to get that Star Trek is cool.

Jamie Barrett
Founder & ECD, Barrett Hofherr
I remember this one time when Bob walked by my office carrying a duffle bag.
It was 1987. I was a first-year copywriter with a couple fractional-sized print ads to my credit. Bob was a highly respected, award-winning, superstar art director.
I asked Bob where he was going and he said he was leaving town for a few days for a shoot. So I did what any super junior, incredibly needy, I-don’t-know-if-I-can-survive-here-without-Bob-Barrie’s-guidance young copywriter would do. I got up from my desk, went over to Bob, lay down in the middle of the office hallway, grabbed Bob’s ankles, and pleaded for him to stay.
Bob said he was sorry but he had to leave, and dragged me down the hall about ten feet before I finally let go.
It’s a true story. I wonder if Bob remembers it. Maybe, over the years, hundreds of copywriters young and old have held onto Bob’s ankles as he left the building – it wouldn’t surprise me. He has been that important to that many people. Both as a creative partner, and as an amazing friend.
That was the only time Bob dragged me.
There were plenty of times he encouraged, supported, and inspired me though. And plenty of times he carried me, with brilliant creative ideas that I could put my name on because I was in the same room with Bob when they happened.
“And plenty of times he carried me, with brilliant creative ideas that I could put my name on because I was in the same room with Bob when they happened.”
It’s so great to see Bob getting recognized in a big way, no one deserves it more. As he leaves the building once more, this time with a giant duffle bag full of awards, I’ll resist the temptation to grab his ankles. But I will say this:
Congrats, Bob. No one did it better than you.

Kevin DiLorenzo
President & CEO, Rise and Shine and Partners
I remember this one time when Bob became an international security threat. Here’s how things went down.
Bob stands out in a crowd. He’s tall, good looking, and slightly awkward in the way he makes his way around a room. So it’s pretty safe to say, all eyes are on him. Only Bob, being Bob, doesn’t always realize it.
Such was the case at an international civic event we attended together at the Art Institute of Chicago hosted by our clients, The Chicago Council on Global Affairs. Mayor Rahm Emanuel was there. Former U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright was there. Numerous international dignitaries were there. Bob was there.
During the cocktail hour, Bob made his way around the international food stations. No one loves to nosh more than Bob. He thought the beef tenderloin from the carving station was a little tough. Bob wanted a steak knife. But no one would give him one.

Keep in mind, we were in a room full of international dignitaries. Knives were not out.
Bob decided to take the matter into his own hands. He swiped a large knife from the carving station when no one was watching. Except for me. And the Secret Service.
“He swiped a large knife from the carving station when no one was watching. Except for me. And the Secret Service.”
That was the moment that I saw plain-clothed agents start to mobilize. I informed Bob of the situation. Rather than drop the knife, he decided to hide it up his sleeve as he wandered towards a group of dignitaries.
Fortunately, he spotted an open high-top where he stopped, carved and enjoyed his tenderloin. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he was likely seconds away from being tazed and tackled.
Blissfully unaware, Bob went back for more tenderloin. Thank you for being Bob, Bob.


Matt Burgess
Partner & CCO, Rise and Shine and Partners
Bob is funny. It’s a dry funny, Bob’s funny.
Like, he’ll say a thing. Then a beat. Then look at you with a wry smile. And what you hope is, you’re smart enough to get it.
I’ve missed a lot of Bob’s jokes over the past couple of years.
But there’s one that landed square. Bob and I hosted a happy hour at the agency. A few of our friends/partners from over the years attended. We called it “Palomas and Pals.” I had made a big batch of Palomas, with mezcal. Strong, if memory sorta serves.

So Bob was having fun, and chatting it up, but was somewhat concerned that a storm was moving in. I’m oblivious. Running drinks. Running the playlist. And then suddenly, the treetops start doubling over, as a black wall of clouds race toward us. In a flash, it’s a downpour. I’m shooing folks into the agency. Putting down umbrellas. Trying to put away cushions in a tupperware thingy. Trying to salvage the charcuterie. Tipping the chairs, plants, flowers, so they don’t blow off the patio. Bringing in the Bose speakers so they don’t short out. Nightmare.
Finally, get inside. Drenched. The floor is standing water. Our priceless Ray Charles picture is dosed. Everyone is a mess. Except Bob. Who, in classic Bob dryness, says to me, “Didn’t you check the radar?”
“Except Bob. Who, in classic Bob dryness, says to me, “Didn’t you check the radar?”
Thanks, Bob.