Eulogy for Wild Bill

Yesterday morning my Daddy passed on to be with the Lord. I can't be in Ohio for his funeral, so I've written this eulogy to be read by my dear son, John.

Eulogy To Wild Bill
By his eldest daughter, Linda Abels

Daddy was many things to many people, but to me he was Daddy; and I want to share with you some reflections about the man I knew and loved.

I’m sorry I cannot be with all of you today, but please know that at this moment I may be in Colorado but my heart and my thoughts are there with you.

I thank my dear son, John, for agreeing to read this for me and I know he will do so with heartfelt love for his grandfather.

It feels a bit like mission impossible to find the right words to truly express the richness of his life. How do I write about Daddy in just a few short pages and express to you the man he was?

To me he was Daddy. To my sister and brothers he was Dad, Pop or Will. To some of my cousins he was Uncle Bull. To many of you he was Wild Bill.

My husband chided me a few years back saying, “You’re nearly 60 years old, how can you still call him Daddy?” My answer was, “He will always be Daddy. We may have had our differences over the years and I may not have always understood him, but he will always be Daddy.”

Daddy was born and raised in Milford, Connecticut, the middle child of my grandparents, Gertrude and Earl Steiner. His older sister, Evelyn, confided many times how he was always into something and quite the prankster. Those of you who knew him well knew Wild Bill could spin a yarn and pull a prank with the best of them.

I don’t have a great deal of information about Daddy’s childhood, but I do know that at the ripe old age of 17 he lied about his age and enlisted in the U.S. Navy. He saw a great deal of the world while in the Navy, including time spent in the waters around Iceland. I still have pictures he took from aboard ship of the many floating icebergs, and I recall the stories he told about that tour. He spent time in the Lucian Islands and Hawaii. And, as many of you already know, Daddy was aboard ship in Pearl Harbor when it was bombed. He never shared much with me about those days following the bombing or his time in the Navy after that, but when the war was over and he came home he married my mom, Emma Jean, or EJ as he called her.

Thanks to my dear cousin, Diane, I have a funny story about Daddy and his getting engaged to my mom.

Wild Bill had his wild times with the ladies back in his youth. Before being stationed in Miami, Florida, where he met my mom, he was seriously dating a young woman from his home town. Kathy VanArsdale had stolen Wild Bill’s heart. One day he telephoned, professed his undying love for her, and asked her to come to Florida and marry him. I can’t tell you how much time passed before Kathy was able to put this trip together, but one day she finally did and was on her way to the train station with plans to be the next Mrs. Steiner. Wild Bill got the message that Kathy was on her way and frantically called his sister back in Milford. “Evelyn, you’ve got to stop Kathy from catching that train to Florida,” he pleaded. “I’ve just become engaged to another woman.” That woman was my mother, Emma. I guess you know the rest of the story. Kathy apparently didn’t make it to Miami, and Mom and Daddy were married.

Daddy was called back to service in Korea in 1951, and I have a clipping from the Dayton Daily News of me handing him his sailor’s cap and sending him off to the war, giving us all a few moments of fame in the newspaper.

What I remember most about Daddy is he could build just about anything and he could grow just about anything . Our house always had the best paint job, best looking yard and the most bountiful vegetable garden of any house on the street. He loved to fish, camp and spend time around any large body of water. He loved to laugh and joke with people. He played a harmonica and could belt out “On Top of Old Smokey” like no one else could. He taught me to dance to the “Tennessee Waltz” when I stood on his feet and he waltzed me around the room. He smelled like Old Spice and Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco. He taught me to ride my shiny blue bicycle. He bounced me on his knee and would always say, “Damn girl you’ve got a boney butt.” He bought me a special dress for a special dance even though money was tight, and I now realize he probably sacrificed something he wanted so I could have that dress. He worked hard to provide for us, even working second jobs painting houses and tending bar at the Officers Club. His favorite TV shows back in the day were Gunsmoke and Lawrence Welk. He loved baseball and the Cincinnati Reds. He loved Julia Roberts and watched all of her movies over and over and over.

I could go on and on about the work he did, the places we lived, vacations, holidays and the fun and sorrow of the years. But if you knew Wild Bill, you know that wasn’t what he was about. Daddy loved people.

Stories shared by my sister, Kris, and my experiences when I visited Otterbein, totally confirm how much he loved people and how much they loved him. During his seven years at Otterbein many people passed through his life. Some have gone on ahead of him to be with the Lord, but many of you sit here today. He probably shared jokes with you (frequently off-color jokes). He may have insulted you and then laughed with you. He may have told you stories about his days in the Navy or his days living by the lake or his days living in Milford, Connecticut. But, I’m willing to bet if you spent much time with Wild Bill, at one time or another he put one over on you. And that was what he loved to do.

One story that sticks in my mind to this very day goes back to sometime in the early 1960’s. Daddy was working in Maintenance at Wright Patterson Air Force Base. There was a fella there they called Tiger. And Tiger wasn’t all that smart. Yes, he was a sweet man, as I recall, but not very smart. One day during the winter months their lunch conversation shifted to the cold, the snow, and the birds landing on the snow to find food. Tiger was concerned that the bird’s feet must get very cold when they have to land on the snow. - Wild Bill was off and running - He convinced Tiger that Proctor & Gamble sold Bird Booties and you could write to them and they would send you some. Tiger was smart enough to ask, “But how do you get the birds to put them on?” Wild Bill’s answer, “You just spread them out on the snow and the birds will fly right into them.”

Many of you probably aren’t aware that Daddy only went to eighth grade in school, and this was something that bothered him a great deal. But, what he lacked in education he made up for with common sense and true wit. He had an uncanny ability to figure out what he didn’t understand, and what he couldn’t figure out he could convince you that he did. He would tell how he’d read some wild story in the newspaper and convince us of some impending great or past event only to learn later that he was taking only the highlights of the story and embellishing the rest to his own understanding.

For several years before his heart attack, Daddy paid an annual visit to my cousin, Diane, and her family in Connecticut. He began his annual visits a number of years before to help my Aunt Evelyn with anything she needed around the house. (This is a house built around the time of the Revolutionary War, so you can well imagine it requires a great deal of tending to.) Aunt Evelyn passed away about ten years ago, but Daddy continued his visits to spend time with Diane and her family. Diane inherited the old house from her mother and it is situated in Milford not very far from a bay called The Gulf. From the house you can smell the ocean and feel the ocean breezes. Early in Daddy’s visits he convinced Diane and her husband that he knew when the tide was changing just by the smell in the air and the direction of the breeze. Quoting Diane, “At first we believed him, but then as time went along we figured out he was bull-shitting us.”

Diane told me it was so hard to narrow down to a few good stories about her Uncle Bill because they had so many good times together. She says they never quite knew what they would do while he was there, but they always got into some kind of trouble with him.

One story she shared with me is so “Wild Bill” that I feel compelled to share it with you. One night they were sitting on the porch and Bill pointed to a bright star off in the distance. “Did you see that,” he said excitedly. “Did you see that star? That’s Jupiter rising.” They watched for a long while then Diane’s husband, Wayne, smiled and pointed in the direction of the star. “Look again, Bill,” he laughed, “That star is moving awfully fast to be a star. I think it’s a plane.” (Which it was.) Diane recalls they all laughed and laughed.

Wild Bill lived a long life full of wild rides, unforeseen rewards and disappointments. He laughed with us, cried with us and frequently put one over on us. I’ve heard it said that people will forget what you said and they will forget what you did but they will never forget the way you made them feel. Those of you sitting here today are a testament to how Daddy made people feel. He made you laugh at yourself and at the world around you. What greater testament can there be than to say, “He made us laugh.” Thank you Wild Bill for the wild ride.

I'm in my third day of the Colorado Christian Writers Conference and my head is spinning. On Wednesday I knew I had my novel to pitch and was prepared to pitch it to two agents and two publishers. On Thursday I discovered I was only scheduled to meet with agent Terry Burns with the Hartline Agency.

A bit disappointed, but accepting this must be God's will, I relaxed a bit and prepared to learn anything and everything I could to improve my craft.

Thursday afternoon I learned if I ever want to retire and earn a living as a writer I have to direct my writing in areas other than just novels. (Funny! This is the same thing my mentor with the Christian Writers Guild has been telling me for months.)

If I want to retire and earn a decent income as a writer I need to:
1. Write articles and actually submit them for publication.
2. Write devotionals and submit them for publication.
3. Write short stories and submit them ...

And, Oh yes! I can even pursue the possibility of screen writing.

The good news is Terry wants a proposal for The Divine and I promised to have it to him within the next two weeks.

The bad news is that I'm only on Chapter 1 with my rewrites and need to get through the rest of the book a.s.a.p so I have a completed manuscript ready just in case Terry finds a publisher who wants to buy the book.

Oh, yeah, and I've learned I should be reading at least one nonfiction book a month relating to the craft of writing and read as many novels as I can get my hands on that are written in the genre of my desired area of fiction. That would be a bit easier to narrow down if I could decide if The Divine is going to be a trilogy of romantic suspense or a one shot deal.

I've been researching for a historical novel set in 1894 in Cripple Creek Colorado, so that means reading historical fiction set in the 19the century in the southwest. And, of course, there is always the forensic anthropology interest that seems to nag at me constantly and I just love reading about gruesome murders and how they did it. I'm not all that certain of how well I could write such suspense, but I sure love reading it.

It is 4:00 on Friday afternoon and at 5:00 I will be in a class learning about agents, contracts and how to get a six figure advance on a new novel. (LOL)

All kidding aside, my continuing class Jumpstart Your Publishing Dreams taught by Terry Whalen has been incredibly informative, and I cant' wait to see what he has next.

Oh,
there
is within my
heart a fire burning;
A flame at times unknown,
undetected, burning; but my
awareness nearly nil. The flame
my Lord placed there to lead me to
Him, to know Him, to follow Him, to
love Him. Oh, how I wish to be aware
always of this flame, in all I do and say,
I wish it were so. But, no, I allow the
world to squelch the flame and lead
me away from Him to where I do
not wish to go. If only my
life was always lived
in total trust and
belief that it
is
and
always
will be
Him.

Done, done and done!

I've just spent the last two hours updating my blog. It's only been a year since I set it up and posted an entry. I've been told by my dear friend and HIS Writers President, Paula, that as the new Vice President of HIS Writers I must have a blog.

This year's ACFW retreat has drawn to a close. After braving a freak mountain blizzard and getting a little too familiar with a guard rail I am happy to say I made it to Saturday's sessions.

Thanks again to my friend Jill for spending Friday night with me at Eldora Lodge. You'll never know how much your comfort and encouragement meant to me.

Margie, God used you in the most amazing way this weekend. Thank you so very much for surrendering to His will. I'm still going back over my notes and the scripture from our sessions together. There is so very much to digest, bring back up and go over again. (Just like the old cow. LOL)

I pray as I move forward with my blog it will be an inspiration and source of humor and encouragement to my Christian and non-Christian friends and family.