Uncle Bill

This blog has been a long time in coming even though I have written so much about my dad’s brother’s life in previous blogs. There is so much I could say about him but I will try to capture his essence.

Bill was the third child born 21 months after my dad was born. They were inseparable as children. Dad would take him alone into Chicago on the streetcar when he was five-years old and Bill was only three! They had the whole city to themselves. Freedom to roam.

They were a bit mischievous. Okay, maybe a lot mischievous. One summer, they just couldn’t take the oppressive Chicago’s heat of summer for another minute, so they flooded the basement of their apartment building to make a swimming pool. They move shortly afterwards.

Bill was willing to do anything my dad said. Once my dad told him to put his finger in an empty light socket. Dad demonstrated, with the power off, then prompted Bill to try it. As he attempted it, dad would flip the switch. Zap! He actually talked Bill into putting his finger into that socket several times. That was their relationship.

During the war, dad was sent to the European theater while Bill was sent to the Far East. He was about 6”2”, which was considered tall in those days, and assigned as a turret gunner. These poor souls were encased in a bulge below the plane so they could shoot. But, they were also very exposed.

Years before he was died, he told my parents about what happened during the war: They had been on a mission and were having engine problems as they had been hit. The plane was going down and would land in the water. The exit from the turret was damaged and they could not get Bill out. He was also injured. If the plane went down in the water, he would drown. This scenario played out for a terrifying amount of time. The pilot did not give up and they were finally were able to limp back to land. Bill told mom and dad this story with tears in his eyes when he talked about how all the others took a chance on losing their lives just to save him.

(During the hurricane years later, as he sat in the tiny space in the darkness, this caused him to remember this vividly as the feelings of helplessness were so similar. He had an emotional breakdown. We had long conversations about it. It scared him. He was on anti anxiety medication for the rest of his life.)

After they finally landed, he had many injuries including shrapnel in his legs. These injuries followed him all throughout his life and gave him a definite limp.

He was evacuated to a base in San Francisco. He was depressed and feeling very low. What he didn’t know was that the family, at great sacrifice, sent his mother from Illinois to San Francisco to be with him. When he saw his mother at the doorway, he was sure he was seeing a vision. From that moment on, he was no longer depressed. Makes me cry just thinking about it.

After the war, he went to Northwestern University on the GI Bill for a very brief period of time. When he applied for and got his job with a major corporation, they asked where he had gone – not graduated - to college. “Northwestern,” he said. When he retired as very wealthy man who sat on the boards of many corporations, they announced that he was a graduate of the great Northwestern University. All those years and no one ever checked!

He had moved to Tennessee for business as a young man and I remember him as a person who looked a bit like dad but had a twang. I was fascinated. As a child, I studied him.

He and Marie never had children. Well after his divorce, he met a lovely woman who he was married to until the day he died. She had a daughter from a previous marriage. It just was not the same. He really didn’t understand my parent’s relationship and that dad clearly placed his family ahead of his career. This never happened to Bill. Business always came first to everything else.

After dad retired, they all spent more time together in Florida. Bill paid for several cruises for them and was so very generous to my parents.

The final decade he worked, the corporation sold off some of its properties. As part of the deal, Bill was to be CEO of the newly formed company or there would be no deal. He accepted and loved not having to answer to anyone but the Board of Directors. He was in his element. I remember that they paid him $1M signing bonus every year he worked over the age of 65. It’s tough to turn down that kind of money. He worked for several more years.

Alma, his wife, told me that he had no popular knowledge –no books, movies, TV shows, music – anything. The business channel was always on the TV. He worked in his office at home.

Bill could be gruff and tough but as he grew older, we realized that he really was a very tenderhearted and very generous man. I will always have great respect for him and all the wonderful things he did for his mother and sisters. He bought his mother her first home. He never accepted but brushed aside any applause or thanks.

After Bette’s services, he called to tell me about it. I said to him, “I know that you don’t like to talk about this but you have been an amazing brother to your sisters all of their lives.”

There was silence and, for the first time ever, he finally accepted a compliment. Very quietly he said, “Thank you.”

We were in Chattanooga in May of 2009. One of the reasons for the 6,000-mile trip was to visit my Uncle Bill’s grave. I promised him that I would.