Where to start in the 12+ years we worked together at ODI. After we were both made Chiefs and traveled together to those 4-5 day business conferences, usually over a weekend, I got to know more about Bill, then Dawn. and eventually the kids and grandkids (he was very proud of all of you).
Jessica definitely had her dad pegged with the “you have to understand.” He used that with many a company rep and other state regulators, especially on a topic he was passionate about.
Bill eventually was able to chair a task force session during those conferences. His goal was to make sure everyone was prepared beforehand, and when started, the whole session could be wrapped up quickly. He was setting a new standard.
By the time he retired, we didn’t have to walk far down any hallway without someone saying “hi, Bill.” I think me being with him a lot may be why those same people say hi with my name now.
Those trips are also where I learned from Bill to get into a “routine” and try to avoid talking business after the day was over (still working on that one). After a long day, Bill would “disappear” until the next morning. He would hit the treadmill for at least 1/2 an hour, shower and then the concierge lounge for some eats, and then find a quiet spot for a ‘gar and Dewars. I think I had my first 2 fingers of Dewars in a coffee cup with Bill outside a Residence Inn in Denver. Scotch was not my bag, but I would find some bourbon or vodka and hang out if I found him.
He was quiet about his hotel elite status, but he was generous about giving the key when you needed a break to go to the lounge. One time, he talked me into staying at the same hotel as him, instead of the conference hotel, when my wife was with me. The key-card went to her, so she could stay relaxed while we were conferencing. He knew I would get some benefit in the end.
Besides the scotch, Bill enjoyed a good glass of wine. I think Dawn may remember you both inviting me to a glass of cabernet sauvignon at a restaurant in Seattle. I became a drier wine drinker after that night. It just took someone to show me.
Our offices of higher walls, not even close to soundproof, were across the narrow hallway from each other. We couldn’t always see each other but could hear when the other was on the phone. If I was talking too much, there was usually some level of dry humor comment sent my way to make me laugh and stop. He also liked to quip about Seinfeld episodes. If someone did something wrong and he knew they were more capable, you might hear “no soup-a for you.” By the way, how many people did he pass his copy of “Idiocracy” to? One will never know.
Our birthdays were 10 years and a few months apart from each other. So we celebrated the key middle-aged milestones. As I turned 45, he told me “just wait, soon you will need bifocals;” “after 50, never trust a fart.” He was on point. You bet I passed those on to my younger brother and my neighbor 10 years younger than me right as they were getting to those milestones. He never did tell me the “just wait until, or after, 60… .”
Bill was just a guy who loved to share the good things in life that made him happy, and knew it would have a positive impact on you.
Well done good and faithful servant.
