If you had the chance to meet Bill, he was unforgettable. A retired Illinois running back (and MVP of the Rose Bowl), a decorated football coach (at Wake Forest, where he coached Brian Piccolo), and a man filled with character.
From the time I was little, Bill was a constant in my family’s life. He was a fellow worshipper at my childhood church, a leader within our church, and a developer of young men. A constant Sunday morning priority was to seek Bill out, shake his hand, and say, “Good morning, coach! I’m glad to see you today.” Bill’s care for young people was evident in the way he intentionally took the time to know them. The image above is from my early days in high school at a flag football game. When the season started, Bill wanted to know the dates and times for the games, and he promised that he would come to watch me. It was like having a celebrity in the crowd. While I don’t remember how the game went – whether we won or lost, or how I played, this is a core memory for me. Bill took the time to come watch me play and stayed afterwards to tell me that he was proud of me.
Yesterday, I got the chance to say goodbye before he passed. It was jarring to see this tall, strong man resting so peacefully as he waited for his homegoing. His face was peaceful, his breathing shallow, but his strength and character still evident.
This summer, I said goodbye to one of my best friends, Ahmed, as he returned to Oman after his MBA program. Ahmed closed every gathering and conversation with the same words: “I’ll see you when I see you.”
As I held Bill’s hand yesterday, I said those same words to him. “Vaya con Dios, Coach. I’ll see you when I see you.”
A Profitable Read 