Talk about true blue.

Robert B. Isaacs loved blue: blue crabs, the blue of his alma mater, Johns Hopkins University. And he did love his hometown, Baltimore.

Georgia Tech (ENLARGE)

Robert Isaacs loved blue crabs and Johns Hopkins University, and combined both at an annual alumni event.

Or, as he would say it, Bawlamer.

Having moved to Atlanta in the late 1970s, he embraced his new city and grew to love it, but nothing rivaled his hometown and his accent never softened.

"If you heard him in a crowd, you could pick him out as a Marylander in a minute," said longtime friend and fellow Hopkins alum, Paul Neitzel. "We used to tease him about it, and he'd say, 'Well, I'm always very careful to pronounce the T,' " in Baltimore, said Mr. Neitzel, of Atlanta.

With his dry sense of humor, he could give as good as he got, friends and family said.

Mr. Isaacs, 66, died at St. Joseph's Hospital in Atlanta May 4 from complications related to a brain tumor. A memorial service will be held in June in Atlanta. Cremation Sociey of the South is in charge of arrangements.

Between Mr. Isaacs, Mr. Neitzel and their friend Geoff Berlin, no one else seemed to have a shot at being president of the Atlanta chapter of the Johns Hopkins Alumni Association. One year it was Mr. Neitzel, the next Mr. Isaacs, and on and on it went for nearly a decade. Mr. Isaacs, who went by Bob, dedicated himself to the organization in a way that was uncommon, said Deborah Saunders, assistant director of alumni relations. If there was an opportunity to talk with students considering the school, Mr. Isaacs was there. If a Hopkins lacrosse game was on television, the former player would be glued to the set.

"He was the ultimate alumni member," Ms. Saunders said.

It was Mr. Isaacs who helped organize the annual Hopkins alumni blue crab event at Lake Lanier. He would be there in charge of cooking. And when it came to eating, he was in charge of that too, said his daughter, Baleigh Isaacs of Chicago. There is a certain technique to picking steamed blue crabs. He had it down pat.

"My family has the best crabcake recipe in the world and my aunt said that one of her best memories is of me and my dad in the kitchen making crabcakes together," Baleigh Isaacs said. "We had our system down, working together like clockwork."

With a master's in psychology from Purdue University and an MBA from the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton School of Business, Mr. Isaacs ultimately became a consultant in out-placement for CEOs who'd been laid off. And he served as a corporate team-building consultant. But during the mid- to late-1990s when the economy was strong and job opportunities more plentiful, for a man in his line of work, things were difficult.

"Here he'd spent his time helping all these CEOs find work and then when he found himself in need, that was hard," his daughter said.

But throughout he kept his sense of humor and reveled in trivia games. He could name all the presidents in order of service, every U.S. state capital as well as international capitals, who sang what song from the 1950s.

"I was astounded at how much useless information he retained," Mr. Neitzel said with a chuckle.

But a few months ago, Mr. Isaacs began having trouble working his daily Sudoku puzzles and remembering things. He began having dizzy spells. Not long after, his tumor was diagnosed.

"Toward the end I'd quiz him," Baleigh Isaacs said. "I'd say, 'OK, name the capital of Utah,' and he'd whisper, 'Salt Lake City.' He could hold so much in his memory," she said.

Other survivors include his wife of 15 months, Raisa Parmentier Isaacs; and his sister, Vera Lasser of Scotch Plains, N.J.