Last month, St. Louis lost one of its greatest.

Bob Cassilly, the creative giant behind Turtle Park, the City Museum, and countless art projects across the country, was found dead while working on something that was sure to take our breath away.

I was 7 years old when I first explored the City Museum.

I went with several friends from my Cub Scout troop, and I remember being surprised when they told me I should wear loose clothes and tennis shoes. At the time, that seemed like a pretty bizarre uniform for looking at paintings or artifacts.

On the drive there, I was curious about the nature of this so-called "museum." My parents did a good job of exposing me to the free educational offerings of St. Louis, so I assumed that we were bound for a traveling, second-run art exhibit. When I voiced my speculation, I was met with stifled grins that only said, "you'll see."

After we parked underneath a dangling school bus and inside the coils of a giant cement snake, I realized that wherever we were defied any kind of definition.

What was once a shoe factory on Washington Avenue had been transformed into a whimsical urban wonderland, filled with caves, surreal art and even a rooftop Ferris wheel. For the wide-eyed second-grader, it felt like every creative fantasy had suddenly come to life.

Since that first trip, I go to the museum as often as I can. With every visit, I find something new about the building. Just last week I discovered a new network of tunnels, and I had been going to the museum for years before I discovered "Beatnik Bob's."

The sense of childlike wonder that I feel with every visit is exactly what Bob Cassilly hoped to accomplish when he purchased the decaying downtown property in 1993.

Back then, the future of Washington Avenue looked bleak. But Bob refused to believe that the city's better days were behind it. When he looked at the abandoned warehouse that would become the City Museum, he saw a brilliant phantasm which had the potential to rejuvenate the entire city. That perspective is what made Bob one of the greatest visionaries our city has ever seen.

I wanted to use this column as a platform to express my gratitude to Bob, and even though I never had the privilege of knowing him, I was honored to know his incredible imagination.

As both a builder and a visionary, Bob's gift of inspiration to St. Louis will never be forgotten.

He will be missed.

Charles Unger, of Town and Country, is a student. He is a vegetarian, who loves poetry and writing for his best friend, Bekah.