Bill fought a good battle against insurmountable odds. He had one of the driest and quickest sense of humor that was enjoyed by so many. When he really enjoyed his own comment a tiny sly smile would curl up the corners of his mouth but you had to be observant to catch it. To his dearest friends and family, my sympathy. Bill will be missed. Sheila Lynott Goodworth
Bill was a good friend for many years going back to our freshman year at Mt. Lebo. He was among a group of us who learned how to drink beer during our high school days at Circle Grove out in South Park at Tom Snaiths house on Arden Lane and anywhere else we could find a place where we could get away wth it. Bill had a dry, wry, self deprecating sense of humor. He never said much but when he did it was thoughtful and spot on. He was a fixture at Tom and Helen Snaiths Hog Roast, (which they held for 35 straight years until recently) at their farm down in Uniontown. Bill showed up camera in hand and over the years took hundreds of photos of people and places at Walnut Hill farm. I have some of those photos which I cherish.
Kris and I bought a home in Avalon, NJ in the late 70's. Bill had a standing invitation to come at any time. "Don't call, just show up" was the rule. We truly enjoyed his visits back in the 70s and 80,s and up until the past few years before he became too ill to travel. Early on Bill would show up unannounced. He'd have his cameras, a box filled with different kinds of liquor and a suitcase for his clothes. Then he'd stay for a few days,( you never knew where the hell he was or what he was doing) and disappear just as quickly as he arrived. Always a great visit.We had numerous conversations, short and to the point, about a variety of subjects. Bill never wasted words but when he spoke it was rich!!
He and Kate visitied us a few years ago at which time Bill gave me a beautiful sailboat model that sits above our refrigerator at the shore house. To me, its the most important thing in the house. I'm reminded of Bill and a friend of ours named Tom Stein every time I look at that boat. Bill always referred to me as "Buzzy". When I was with him it seemed like time had stood still and that we were never going to get old. Now he's gone and I am as sad as I can be.
Bill fought a brave fight. His wife Kate is as close to an angel as anyone could be. God bless her. Bill would never have survived as long as he did without her.
Rest in peace my dear friend. I will never forget you.
Bill died at 7:45 PM on January 30, 2015 at Presbyterian Hospital in Pittsburgh. His wonderful wife, Kate, and I were at his side.
He was my best friend since the 4th grade at Lincoln and I hope I was his, knowing full well that he had hundreds of other friends who spent more time with him that I have over the past 62 years or so.
I've always called him Herd. He was also known as W.D. or the Baron and was Uncle Bill to my kids. I miss him terribly, but I am so thankful to have been able to say goodbye and so grateful that he is no longer suffering.
Spanning decades and sometimes distance, Bill was a good and a dear friend to many of us. How glad I am for his presence in my life, and how sad I am for his absence.
Bill was someone I knew through grade school, junior high, and high school. I am so glad that I got to visit with him for a few minutes at the Reunion. Jay, I'm glad you were able to say goodbye - I know how close you two were. With deepest sympathy to friends and family.
Like Reagan, I knew Bill through grade school, junior high and high school and was in the band with him. His humor and smile will be missed. God bless you Bill.
God broke the mold when He created Bill Hertel. Trite but true with Bill because I have never known anyone remotely like him. At his memorial service yesterday, his closest friends revealed even more about Bill's passion for cars and photography. I had no idea that he was such an accomplished and prolific man behind the camera. What a complex man Bill was, which is why he was so interesting.
My story about Bill involves our Senior Prom. He invited both Melodie Campbell Phillips and me, but because we were both in love with other boys as only seventeen-year-old girls can be, we each turned him down. To this day, none of is sure who was invited first. Several years ago, Bill called me out of the blue and invited me to lunch. When he arrived at my door in a suit and tie, I was glad I had worn my best jeans! He presented me with a small box that contained a wrist corsage of dyed carnations that were so prevalent in our high school days. Where he found this replica, I have no clue. He then announced that this was our Senior Prom. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but I did know that I was proudly wearing the blue flowers to lunch.
At a lovely restaurant, we had a few minutes of stilted conversation, and all of a sudden, the dam broke. We talked about everything, and I realized that Bill was a Rennaisance man. Because it was our prom date, we even danced. Despite my insistence to split the bill, he paid it and drove me home. As I was getting out of the car, I told him that the next lunch would be my treat. In typical Hertel fashion, he said in a monotone, "There will be no next time. Goodbye." If this had been anyone else, I would have replayed that afternoon repeatedly in my mind, wondering what I had done wrong. But this was so Hertel-esque!
Anyone who had a doubt about how much Bill was loved should have been at his Memorial Service. Many of our classmates were there, and, despite the circumstances, I was so happy to see them. A special treat for me was visiting with Herr Campbell, his wife, son and daughter-in-law. Despite the many students he had taught, he remembered that I sat in front of Jay Cheney and that we misbehaved! Someone told me that he is 83, and I realized how young he was when he taught me. He was astonished that I took four years of German at Mount Holyoke, at which point I realized how much he had affected me as a teacher. I had no idea that he, Bill and others remained so close over the years.
The high point for me was meeting Kate, his beautiful wife. What a lovely person she is, inside and out. At our prom lunch, Bill declared that he would never marry, but that statement fell by the wayside when he met Kate. Having dealt with the death of my first husband who had cancer, I knew exactly what she had undergone. I'm sure she was a source of great strength and love for Bill while he was ill. I hope I have a chance to see her after her life returns to a new normal.
I can't conclude this without mentioning Jay Cheney. Everyone should have a friend like Jay. When I phoned him after getting the sad news, he told me that he had been here several times during Bill's illness and was with Kate at Bill's bedside when Bill's suffering came to an end. Jay gave a humorous and loving tribute to his lifelong best friend at the service. Jay, if you read this, I know that losing Bill was like losing a favorite brother. Bill would have laughed at the tales of your hi jinks, my friend.
As sad as a death can be, it can be a welcome goodbye to pain and suffering and a hello to whatever lies ahead. You will be missed by many, many people, Bill, and I wish you Godspeed on your journey.
Bill used to walk into a person's home without knocking if he knew him or her well. When I was with him, he would walk into someone's house unannounced and I'd wait by the front door until someone who actually lived in the house invited me in.
Sue Daniell told me a great story about this. She and her Dad were in their house on Washington Road and Bill walked in out of the blue, went into the kitchen, grabbed a banana or some such fruit, and walked out of the house without saying a word.
That's my Bill.
Bill also was not shy about telling you he did not like a gift you gave him and he did so frequently. For example, he returned a gold Cross pen I sent him for his birthday to me because he didn't like the way it wrote, kept a walking stick I gave him in the trunk of his car for years with the wrapping still on it, and gave me a Christmas gift of the same two bottles of wine that I had just given him for the same Christmas.
After I got the wine back, I advised Bill that we weren't giving each other gifts anymore and we lived happily ever after, noting that it took me about 35 years to figure this solution out.
On a different subject, Bill knew I was afraid of heights to the extent that I froze in place when encountering them. Bill and I double dated to a movie theater in down town Pittsburgh (I think I was with Mollie Glennan) and at intermission he walked out of an exit door to what I thought was a patio of some sort. It was hot in the theater and Bill motioned for me to join him outside. I walked out the door and was standing on a fire escape three stories above the side walk on a metal grate that you could see through to your death. Bill laughed like a loon as I froze on the fire escape but was kind enough to drag me back into the theater before the movie started up again. I drove so he needed to keep me alive.
This is one of my favorites that I told at Bill's Memorial service. Bill and I were driving from Annapolis, Md,, to New Bedford, Mass, to visit Lesley Mitchell who is now my wife. We were driving two hours on and two hours off and it was late at night and Bill's turn to drive. I switched seats with him and immediately fell asleep. He woke me up when it was my turn to drive and I found myself in an underpass beneath a four leaf clover highway in the dark of night with fog rolling in. I did my two hours of driving but was awfully tired, almost as if I had not gotten my two hours of sleep.
Fast forward about twenty years later. I mentioned that incident to Bill and he said: "Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was driving for about ten minutes when I found myself in an underpass beneath a four leaf clover highway in the dark of night with fog rolling in and said screw this (or words to that effect) and woke you up so you could drive."
Then he gave me that little grin of his and that was that.
Ronald Downey
Bill was a good guy; he'll be missed by many.
Sheila Lynott (Goodworth)
Bill fought a good battle against insurmountable odds. He had one of the driest and quickest sense of humor that was enjoyed by so many. When he really enjoyed his own comment a tiny sly smile would curl up the corners of his mouth but you had to be observant to catch it. To his dearest friends and family, my sympathy. Bill will be missed. Sheila Lynott Goodworth
Deborah (Debbie) Brower
Bill's passing hits so close to home as he was one of my first childhood friends...he will be missed
David (Buzz) Davis
Bill was a good friend for many years going back to our freshman year at Mt. Lebo. He was among a group of us who learned how to drink beer during our high school days at Circle Grove out in South Park at Tom Snaiths house on Arden Lane and anywhere else we could find a place where we could get away wth it. Bill had a dry, wry, self deprecating sense of humor. He never said much but when he did it was thoughtful and spot on. He was a fixture at Tom and Helen Snaiths Hog Roast, (which they held for 35 straight years until recently) at their farm down in Uniontown. Bill showed up camera in hand and over the years took hundreds of photos of people and places at Walnut Hill farm. I have some of those photos which I cherish.
Kris and I bought a home in Avalon, NJ in the late 70's. Bill had a standing invitation to come at any time. "Don't call, just show up" was the rule. We truly enjoyed his visits back in the 70s and 80,s and up until the past few years before he became too ill to travel. Early on Bill would show up unannounced. He'd have his cameras, a box filled with different kinds of liquor and a suitcase for his clothes. Then he'd stay for a few days,( you never knew where the hell he was or what he was doing) and disappear just as quickly as he arrived. Always a great visit.We had numerous conversations, short and to the point, about a variety of subjects. Bill never wasted words but when he spoke it was rich!!
He and Kate visitied us a few years ago at which time Bill gave me a beautiful sailboat model that sits above our refrigerator at the shore house. To me, its the most important thing in the house. I'm reminded of Bill and a friend of ours named Tom Stein every time I look at that boat. Bill always referred to me as "Buzzy". When I was with him it seemed like time had stood still and that we were never going to get old. Now he's gone and I am as sad as I can be.
buzbiker1@aol.com
Jay Cheney
Bill died at 7:45 PM on January 30, 2015 at Presbyterian Hospital in Pittsburgh. His wonderful wife, Kate, and I were at his side.
He was my best friend since the 4th grade at Lincoln and I hope I was his, knowing full well that he had hundreds of other friends who spent more time with him that I have over the past 62 years or so.
I've always called him Herd. He was also known as W.D. or the Baron and was Uncle Bill to my kids. I miss him terribly, but I am so thankful to have been able to say goodbye and so grateful that he is no longer suffering.
God bless, Bill.
Jay
Diane Krueger (Anderson)
Spanning decades and sometimes distance, Bill was a good and a dear friend to many of us. How glad I am for his presence in my life, and how sad I am for his absence.
dk
Regan Hall (McNair)
Bill was someone I knew through grade school, junior high, and high school. I am so glad that I got to visit with him for a few minutes at the Reunion. Jay, I'm glad you were able to say goodbye - I know how close you two were. With deepest sympathy to friends and family.
Regan Hall McNair
Carolyn Moore (Firko)
Like Reagan, I knew Bill through grade school, junior high and high school and was in the band with him. His humor and smile will be missed. God bless you Bill.
Susan Swager (Becraft)
God broke the mold when He created Bill Hertel. Trite but true with Bill because I have never known anyone remotely like him. At his memorial service yesterday, his closest friends revealed even more about Bill's passion for cars and photography. I had no idea that he was such an accomplished and prolific man behind the camera. What a complex man Bill was, which is why he was so interesting.
My story about Bill involves our Senior Prom. He invited both Melodie Campbell Phillips and me, but because we were both in love with other boys as only seventeen-year-old girls can be, we each turned him down. To this day, none of is sure who was invited first. Several years ago, Bill called me out of the blue and invited me to lunch. When he arrived at my door in a suit and tie, I was glad I had worn my best jeans! He presented me with a small box that contained a wrist corsage of dyed carnations that were so prevalent in our high school days. Where he found this replica, I have no clue. He then announced that this was our Senior Prom. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but I did know that I was proudly wearing the blue flowers to lunch.
At a lovely restaurant, we had a few minutes of stilted conversation, and all of a sudden, the dam broke. We talked about everything, and I realized that Bill was a Rennaisance man. Because it was our prom date, we even danced. Despite my insistence to split the bill, he paid it and drove me home. As I was getting out of the car, I told him that the next lunch would be my treat. In typical Hertel fashion, he said in a monotone, "There will be no next time. Goodbye." If this had been anyone else, I would have replayed that afternoon repeatedly in my mind, wondering what I had done wrong. But this was so Hertel-esque!
Anyone who had a doubt about how much Bill was loved should have been at his Memorial Service. Many of our classmates were there, and, despite the circumstances, I was so happy to see them. A special treat for me was visiting with Herr Campbell, his wife, son and daughter-in-law. Despite the many students he had taught, he remembered that I sat in front of Jay Cheney and that we misbehaved! Someone told me that he is 83, and I realized how young he was when he taught me. He was astonished that I took four years of German at Mount Holyoke, at which point I realized how much he had affected me as a teacher. I had no idea that he, Bill and others remained so close over the years.
The high point for me was meeting Kate, his beautiful wife. What a lovely person she is, inside and out. At our prom lunch, Bill declared that he would never marry, but that statement fell by the wayside when he met Kate. Having dealt with the death of my first husband who had cancer, I knew exactly what she had undergone. I'm sure she was a source of great strength and love for Bill while he was ill. I hope I have a chance to see her after her life returns to a new normal.
I can't conclude this without mentioning Jay Cheney. Everyone should have a friend like Jay. When I phoned him after getting the sad news, he told me that he had been here several times during Bill's illness and was with Kate at Bill's bedside when Bill's suffering came to an end. Jay gave a humorous and loving tribute to his lifelong best friend at the service. Jay, if you read this, I know that losing Bill was like losing a favorite brother. Bill would have laughed at the tales of your hi jinks, my friend.
As sad as a death can be, it can be a welcome goodbye to pain and suffering and a hello to whatever lies ahead. You will be missed by many, many people, Bill, and I wish you Godspeed on your journey.
Susan Swager Becraft
Jay Cheney
Bill used to walk into a person's home without knocking if he knew him or her well. When I was with him, he would walk into someone's house unannounced and I'd wait by the front door until someone who actually lived in the house invited me in.
Sue Daniell told me a great story about this. She and her Dad were in their house on Washington Road and Bill walked in out of the blue, went into the kitchen, grabbed a banana or some such fruit, and walked out of the house without saying a word.
That's my Bill.
Bill also was not shy about telling you he did not like a gift you gave him and he did so frequently. For example, he returned a gold Cross pen I sent him for his birthday to me because he didn't like the way it wrote, kept a walking stick I gave him in the trunk of his car for years with the wrapping still on it, and gave me a Christmas gift of the same two bottles of wine that I had just given him for the same Christmas.
After I got the wine back, I advised Bill that we weren't giving each other gifts anymore and we lived happily ever after, noting that it took me about 35 years to figure this solution out.
On a different subject, Bill knew I was afraid of heights to the extent that I froze in place when encountering them. Bill and I double dated to a movie theater in down town Pittsburgh (I think I was with Mollie Glennan) and at intermission he walked out of an exit door to what I thought was a patio of some sort. It was hot in the theater and Bill motioned for me to join him outside. I walked out the door and was standing on a fire escape three stories above the side walk on a metal grate that you could see through to your death. Bill laughed like a loon as I froze on the fire escape but was kind enough to drag me back into the theater before the movie started up again. I drove so he needed to keep me alive.
This is one of my favorites that I told at Bill's Memorial service. Bill and I were driving from Annapolis, Md,, to New Bedford, Mass, to visit Lesley Mitchell who is now my wife. We were driving two hours on and two hours off and it was late at night and Bill's turn to drive. I switched seats with him and immediately fell asleep. He woke me up when it was my turn to drive and I found myself in an underpass beneath a four leaf clover highway in the dark of night with fog rolling in. I did my two hours of driving but was awfully tired, almost as if I had not gotten my two hours of sleep.
Fast forward about twenty years later. I mentioned that incident to Bill and he said: "Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was driving for about ten minutes when I found myself in an underpass beneath a four leaf clover highway in the dark of night with fog rolling in and said screw this (or words to that effect) and woke you up so you could drive."
Then he gave me that little grin of his and that was that.
Hah!
Jay