Bill was one of the 'good guys.' Any signs of a temper were practically non-existent. Optimism was his philosophy and generosity of spirit was his natural condition. I loved it when Bill came to my house. He played my piano, enjoyed my cooking, and sometimes he and my Dad would beat Elaine and me at Bridge, but not often. He really liked my Dad's recipe for our sour beef and dumplings, and my country ribs and sauerkraut. We usually celebrated his August birthday on Labor Day with steamed crabs, corn on the cob, and Maryland beef steak tomatoes. We spent 13 of the last 15 years New Year's Eves together, when at midnight although all of us enjoy Elaine's favorite oyster stew, there was always a bowl of New England clam chowder for Bill. Elaine tells me that every time on their way home, Bill would say, "We always have a good time there, don’t we?" I'm glad.

There were lots of good times. Bill and Elaine were married for 59 years. They raised two wonderful children, Jay and Ellen, who always made them proud and who gave them eight beautiful grandchildren children and two great grandchildren. Bill was so grateful to God that they are all healthy and smart. He looked forward to those vacations when all 14 of them could get together.

There were scary times as well, particularly during World War II when Bill was in the Army, and again when he was recalled for the Korean war. But the service has some advantages, too. Shortly after his recall, he was assigned to Korea, but diverted to Japan. He and Elaine lived in Japan for three years, and over the years, they saw a lot of the world; even after retirement they took off for Dover Air Force Base on a moment's notice justify, just to run over to Europe. For eight years after Bill retired from Mercy Hospital, they spent the winters in Florida. But although Bill had been born and raised in Pennsylvania, Bill always considered Maryland home. He loved their house in Severna Park, and he enjoyed many friends they made there.

Elaine tells everyone that, as a husband, Bill was exceptional; and he knew it. Despite the mental fog that had golfed him during these last years’s, he asked Elaine a few days before he died, "I never said 'no' to you, did I?" No, he never did. Elaine's favorite photograph of Bill is one I took of him embracing a Christmas gift, a coffee table book, entitled, Golf, something that Bill had a real passion for. But my favorite photo of Bill is actually of the two of them standing under a huge shade tree. He is leaning it up against the tree trunk looking adorably adoringly at her. It is technical or proof that she was his greatest passion. My dad said that the only people in this life that he ever was jealous of Were Elaine and Bill because they had each other for so long.

Everyone who knew Bill will miss him the physically athletic man and the mentally mathematically acute person that he was before illness; and the gentle, patient, long, suffering, suite, childlike man, that he was during his terrible bout with Alzheimer's. Elaine nurtured, his body and his soul during the past seven years. She said she had no other choice because she knows he would’ve done it and even better job, taking care of her if the rules have been reversed. Although the situation was sometimes very difficult, Elaine emphasizes that was easy to take care of himout of love because he didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

If a man can be measured by his relationships, then we know he certainly measured up. He he had strength with which made him a man’s Man and sensitivity, which made him a woman’s man. He had character, and he was never afraid to show his emotions. He was a man who died having no regrets. How wonderful! He truly was "one of the good guys" and is an exceptional example of America's Greatest Generation.

Bill's soul has gone full circle, and he was ready for his next adventure. He has returned to his true home.

In the meanwhile, we gathered decade to grieve our loss. We grieve because we won't be seeing him across the dinner table; we grieve because we will be deprived of his laughter; but we cannot grieve for him. We celebrate his life. We celebrate being a part of his life, to have loved him, and to have been loved by him.

Bill was ready, ready to run and not be weary, to mount up with wings like eagles.

As we grieve his passing, and that we must do certainly, grieve because it is natural and normal to grieve. We must not lose sight of the words of James Miller, who said: