Tony Tye, Post-Gazette
	A tribute to the late Mayor Bob O'Connor posted in the window of Charles Spiegel for Men on Forbes Avenue in Pittsburgh's Squirrel Hill.

By Chico Harlan
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

He used footsteps as his simple common denominator. Before he ran the city, Mayor Bob O'Connor ran everywhere: through Frick Park with his French mastiff, to the Forward Lanes bowling alley, to the Schenley Park swimming pool with his grandchildren. He became ubiquitous in his Squirrel Hill neighborhood, known equally for his engaging personality and his constant willingness to put it to use.

Alyssa Cwanger, Post-Gazette

Dan Chimes, 16, of Squirrel Hill, ties a black ribbon on a meter on Forbes Avenue in Squirrel Hill yesterday afternoon in remembrance of Mayor Bob O'Connor. He and members of the Squirrel Hill Urban Coalition, Allderdice Alumni Association and Allderdice baseball team gathered to tie fifty ribbons on trees and posts along on Murray and Forbes Avenues. The ribbons were made by Oliver Flower Shop on Forbes Avenue in Squirrel Hill.

Two months ago, that changed. Doctors diagnosed Mr. O'Connor with a rare form of cancer. Residents of Squirrel Hill no longer saw him. The stores and shops he once visited instead sold wristbands to support his cause. Mr. O'Connor died Friday night at 61 after a two-month struggle with his illness, and he left behind a community that measures the loss in tangible terms:

No longer does he stop at the Murray Avenue Giant Eagle after a long workday.

No longer does he order a skim latte at the Coffee Tree.

No longer does he draw pedestrians into conversation, his right hand and smile working in unison.

"We knew him," Squirrel Hill resident Susie Zell said, "because you saw him everywhere."

Within the neighborhood, one could follow his tracks years into the past. Mr. O'Connor first went to Harry's Barber Shop -- with its father-son tandem and talcum powder smell -- at age 16. Even when Mr. O'Connor's hair turned whip-cream white, he sat in the same chair, trusting it to the same hands.

Before his political career, though, he already shined a politician's personality. Barber Joseph Feldman, the shop's lone proprietor since the death of his father, said that Mr. O'Connor never read a magazine while waiting. Instead, he talked. To everybody.

"Bob, when I saw him, I was excited," said Mr. Feldman, a barber since 1960. "He was a handsome man, good appearance, very photogenic. I enjoyed cutting his hair because he looked so good when I was finished, you know? But Bob is also a guy, you'd think 100 people walked in when he came through the door. So much charisma -- and it felt good in every way to see him."

In Squirrel Hill's Murray-Forbes business section, most could connect themselves to Mr. O'Connor within one or two degrees. This guy: good friends with the mayor's son. That woman: remembers him from a fundraising function. The person standing in line for coffee: had hoped to invite the mayor to her son's bar mitzvah.

"I call him a family friend," said Michael Ferraro, owner of Pleasant Present on Murray Avenue. "But you'll find that a lot of people around here say that."

Mr. Ferraro's store, known for its eclectic batch of Pittsburgh- and politics-themed bric-a-brac, had about 350 wristbands for sale one morning last week. They were sold in 90 minutes.

Mr. O'Connor, those in the neighborhood said, struck the balance between common and uncommon. And the Squirrel Hill area allowed him the common geography for his uncommon outgoingness. He ate his pizza at Aiello's and Mineo's -- often one slice only. His coffee habit helped support several of the local establishments. Even after his mayoral term began in January, he maintained his routines.

"The day he got sworn in," said Mr. Feldman, the barber, "I shook his hand and said, 'Congratulations, Mr. Mayor.' And get this" -- Mr. Feldman touched the forearm of the person listening -- "here is what he said to me: 'If only your father was here to see this.' Can you believe it? This was his dream moment, and he wanted to share it."

A photo of Mr. O'Connor, once enlarged, will soon hang on the far wall of the barbershop, Mr. Feldman said.

At the Giant Eagle down the road, there's another photograph, this one tacked on the office of store manager Jeffrey Waldo. It was taken last September, during a function at St. Rosalia, the mayor's home parish. Mr. Waldo and Mr. O'Connor posed together, the latter wearing a pink tie, a light blue oxford and his trademark tan.

That same evening, the two men talked about the grocery store. Mr. O'Connor wanted to know about the challenges presented by such a diverse group of customers.

"It was just a great comment, I thought," Mr. Waldo said. "Very candid. He made you feel very at ease in conversation.

"Even after he was elected, he was never one to shy away. So it's almost like something is missing now. Like, OK, when am I going to see him in the store again? When am I going to see him on the street again? When am I going to carry on a conversation with him again?"