His Name was Bill

His Name was Bill

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My memories of him are numerous:

• Cream fills and cruellers from Wohfarth's bakery every other payday Friday
  
• Cartons of hotdogs with all the toppings from the Original Hot Dog Shop on Station Street
  
• Hot sausages from Frankies on Station Street
  
• School picnics with the family at Kennywood, ended by a family ride on the train
  
• Post office picnics at Westview
  
• Dad and Uncle Jimmy paneling walls, laying tile and painting
  
• Fixing anything that needed fixing around the house
  
• Don't put your hands on anybody but if somebody put their hands on you, defend yourself
  
• Carrying a club made from the bottom of the Christmas tree to school with us to fend off bullies. (They never bothered us again.)
  
• Whuppings when we needed them
  
• Sunday school and church at Mt. Ararat
  
• His playing Row Row Your Boat with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren standing on his lap
  
• Getting what we wanted for Christmas, not what we needed. Christmas was for fun stuff.
  

Bill loved pecan rolls, halibut, red salmon patties, steak, oysters and BUTTER. But, most of all he loved and cherished his family. Family was paramount to him. Like his father before him, he believed that if you had your family, you really didn't need anybody else. He didn't have many outside activities that didn't include his family.

But, most of all, I remember the music. Bill had a beautiful baritone voice. I grew up listening to the rich, melodic sound of his voice as he sang both religious song and popular standards. I have often said over the years that Nat "King" Cole voice was nothing compared to his. I still remember all the words to Moon River, You Belong to Me, Mona Lisa, and so many others. Years after he left the choir, I would often run into people who remembered him and they always mentioned his beautiful voice.

Bill was a man of his word. If he said he would do something, it was as good as done. To him, a man's word was his bond. He didn't believe in foolishness or loud talking and shouting. Though Bill was a quiet man, he had strong opinions on many things and if asked, he would discuss anything with you.

Bill was a proud, loving and independent man.

His name was Bill, but we called him Dad.

William Garfield Cottrell, Sr.
January 28, 1926 – March 22, 2008