My relation with Bill goes back at least 55 years, when we knew each other in Brazil. In fact, I first knew him as Paul. He was intimately involved in my family’s choice to live in RYE, NY when we moved back to the States. Since he had been so active in our coming to Rye, he was also very helpful finding jobs for me. Those opportunities were essential in my growing up and acquiring experience in areas that would prove useful to me for the rest of my life. When jobs were scarce, he hired me to paint his home and apartment. I’m sure he did so just to lend me a helping hand so I could earn some spending money. He could have done the job as well or better himself.
I considered him as a surrogate father and I suspected him to consider me as a surrogate son in his own way. Our families profited and suffered immensely from our passage through Westchester county. Marriages broke apart but gave birth to exuberant and passionate new lives for all involved. It was truly a crazy period, but I knew I could always count on Paul for a helping hand and sound advice. I’ll never forget the time he invited me into New York City where he was living at that time. We had a night on the town that I’ll never forget, and am not about to expand upon today. It was another very important part of my growing up.
All through my life, I have kept in touch with Bill, mostly through Christmas letters. He did however make it to France once. We toured Paris and dropped by to visit with an artist friend of his. He stayed in our apartment in Chartres. We visited Giverny, Claude Monet’s home and garden. A replica of one of Monet’s paintings hangs over the buffet in our living room. He will always have a special place in my heart.