I lived across the hall from a Bob Miller in first year university. I doubt it's the same guy. Your Bob didn't happen to dive face first into a very shallow creek, did he? He was in Club 2-4, an unofficial club that sat on, and drank, a 2-4 of beer BEFORE going out to the bars every Friday and Saturday night. Also, usually Wednesday nights, as that was Bomber night.
Hope you find the guy. If not, I think you can claim eminent domain, or Droit du seigneur, if you so choose.
Seriously, though, if you don't find him, I don't think you
should worry about keeping or disposing of his belongings at this point. He knows where you live, and has for years, so he's probably not coming back. I applaud your search, though, and find it fits with my worldly travels. If I had a beer (I have had, and many more, for the record) for every time someone in another country said "Oh, you're from Canada? Do you know X X?", I'd be well pickled. Oddly
enough, as an engineer who went to a school that pioneered work terms, I probably have about 3 degrees of separation to any engineer who went to school anywhere in Canada in the 90's. Often only 1 degree. My Bob was in math, not engineering. After the facial reconstruction he slowed down a bit, but not much. Good luck with your search. If I'm ever in Armstrong, I'll ask for you by name and bring you beer. Being Canadian, we probably know each other.