President's Column - June 2025
Hello Members and Industry Friends,
Over the last several columns, I’ve taken you along for the ride as my family and I navigated an international move. It was no small thing. The logistics, the emotions, the unforeseen obstacles, I wrote about all of them. As we stabilized a bit and got our footing, I turned the focus to the professional side that brought us here, the opportunity, the responsibilities, the changes, the approach and the challenges of stepping into a significantly larger role.
Last month, I spent the column speaking about kindness. It’s what has gotten us to this point. We still rely on it every day and hope we are sharing it just as equally, if not more. I noted, it’s of course the big things, like the help we still need back in the US, but more so with everyday life from strangers helping us navigate a foreign country.
Those columns were all part of a journey. From, “wow, we’re doing this” to “my goodness, there is a lot to do” and now a bit of “and this is why we did it.” We’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and it looks a lot like the picture we had in our heads before this all began.
More than twenty years ago, I lived in Switzerland for the first time. I’ve been back countless times over the years for work. I had a sense of the country—the lifestyle, the culture. I met my wife here, so we “knew the country.” We had a vision for what living in Switzerland could be like for our family. Still, we weren’t sure what reality would look like. It’s one thing to dream. It’s another to uproot your life and chase that dream down.
The good news? The picture is starting to come into focus, and so far it’s a pretty good match.
Back then, we were seeing the world for the first time. But we were young twenty-somethings, so I could tell you where to find the best bars, what clubs stayed open late and where the best place was to watch big games, based on who was playing. Now? We’re parents. We’re introducing our kids to the world. We’ve traded nightlife for free museum days, dog-friendly festivals and detailed planning around school vacation calendars. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When we first arrived, we landed in a temporary apartment right in the heart of the city. From a convenience standpoint, it was unbeatable. On Saturday mornings, we’d step out into the middle of a bustling market. But for a family with a dog, a car and a desire for space and quiet, it wasn’t quite home. That came a little later, when we found our house in a small, classic Swiss village.
The move to the village was another big change. It has a real neighborhood feel. My youngest walks to the bus stop with the neighbors for a short ride to school. My oldest rides his bike, something he’d always wanted to do but couldn’t in the States because of the busy roads. We have a backyard, plenty of grass for the dog and playing catch. One of the first purchases was a grill, (sadly, I won’t have four grills, like back home. Yes, I’m one of those guys). We set up our firepit and all of this with a view of the French Alps.
We’re slowly mastering the local shops, learning what’s sold where and when. There’s a Belgian beer store just down the road, walking distance from home. The small kind of place that each visit you talk with the owner to hear about the new brews he has and get a story or two.
We’ve been using a company car lately, but still lean heavily on public transport. It’s too efficient not to. Plus, there’s something wonderfully peaceful about walking through a sleepy village to catch a bus into town.
My commute is no longer a multi-lane highway. I take an “agricultural route” that winds through fields and farmland. I’m occasionally delayed by a slow-moving tractor rather than gridlock. Which is fine with me. One of the things I always looked forward to during work trips here was seeing this little Swiss village that you can see from the factory. It looked like it had leapt out of a postcard; stone buildings, tiled roofs, winding lanes, all with a mountain backdrop. I used to stare at it and imagine what it might be like to live there. Now, as fate would have it, I drive through that very village every day. Twice!
In one direction, I stare at the Alps. In the other, the Jura Mountains. These views still stop me in my tracks. Each time I catch myself marveling; I say, “I hope we never lose this.”
Because it’s easy to let beautiful things fade into the background. To stop noticing. To get so used to something that you forget to appreciate it. That can happen with views, jobs, people, opportunities. We begin to take them for granted. And we can’t let that happen.
The picture we had in our heads is now a picture we’re living. Not every detail is perfect, and of course, not every day is easy. But the broad strokes are all there. And more than that, they’re growing more vivid each day.
This journey has taught me that in both personal and professional life: it’s worth chasing the picture in your head. It won’t always come easy. You’ll have to be flexible, patient and open to changing your expectations and able to get way out of your comfort zone. But if you’re willing to work for it, if you stay kind, stay curious and stay committed, it’s possible to make that picture real.
And when you do, don’t forget to stop and admire it now and then.
P.S. I still have not figured out the garbage and recycling!
Thank you and all the best,
Rob has 27 years of experience at Bobst, one of the world’s leading suppliers of substrate processing, printing and converting equipment and services for the label, flexible packaging, folding carton and corrugated board industries. He currently serves as Tooling Director.
Rob is based in Switzerland, with his wife Monica and their children, Leo and Manuela. His older son, Khai is engaged and remains living in New Jersey. Rob enjoys camping and cooking as well as being a full time chauffer to hockey and swimming practices.
He is proof that being one of those “take it apart and see how it works” kind of guys can lead you to a wonderful career, meeting new people and experiencing the world.
The President's Column appears in The Cutting Edge, the IADD's monthly magazine.
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