Saying Goodbye to a Good Friend

Bill Leclerc

Woodturners, like any other random group of Earth's denizens, are a varied lot. Some are sociable, gregarious types, who enjoy the company of like-minded folks. Others are more solitary curmudgeons, fussy and picky about who can share their space. I like to think I should be pigeon-holed into the first group, but recognize that at least at times, I fit more squarely into the latter.

I have a friend, Bill Leclerc, who could have been the poster boy for the fun-loving first group. I say "could have been", because Bill has just, as the (very) old folks used to say, "shuffled off his mortal coil", and has made his way to some better place. He left us in a very swift, totally unexpected way. No chance to prepare.

The Beginning

I don't remember the first time I met Bill, I'm sure it wasn't all that remarkable an event. I do know it was at a woodturning club meeting. Bill wasn't the type who made himself highly noticeable. Wasn't a puffed-up, self-serving kind of guy. He had been retired for a number of years at that point, and was more than happy to leave self-aggrandizement to the young roosters who seem to require it. No, Bill was just a guy who was good at what he did, and eagerly helped anyone else who had the desire to learn what he knew. He didn't demand too much from life, except to keep seeing more of it, to learn new things, and to have fun. And most of all, it seemed to me, to grow into a much more intimate relationship with this awe-inspiring land we occupy. 

Bill and I quickly became best buddies when a small group of us woodturners trekked out into the snow one bitter January day, at my suggestion, to go gawk at frozen trees in the woods. I ask you, what better time than that is there to study tree identification? 

Numb toes and fingers notwithstanding, Bill took a liking to that kind of camaraderie and abuse. I guess that day had all the essential elements for him... a mix of friends, forest, and field study. All those seemingly identical trees suddenly had identities and names of their own. And there was clowning around, and jokes. And BURLS! That's just treasure to a turner. We found quite a few that day. These dang things actually grow on trees!

I uttered a sheepish question at the end of that day's outing ... "um, does anyone want to do this again sometime"?  Bill's response was a quick "YES, this was great!". That did more than anything else could have done to relieve my feeling of guilt at having inflicted this icy march on these guys, who could easily have been in their cozy warm woodshops, spinning chunks of trees into works of art. Bill (and everyone else) actually enjoyed this! I mean, I know I did, but then, I'm a nut.