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My brother Billy passed on July 15th, 8:10 PM, at the VA Med Center in Northport, Long Island. He was only 75 years old, but those were some hard-lived years. I can picture him with a Marlboro in one hand, an inhaler in the other, huffing & puffing to the bitter end.
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Billy was one-of-a-kind, an Irish charmer, a weekend millionaire who might be late with the rent, a benign & glorious fuckup, and a sweet & loving soul. A handsome devil, as my mother would say. He never met a job he couldn’t quit.
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Bill, seated, Neal beside him; our sister Jean in the background. The early 70s?
Eleven years older than me, I especially remember him being very gentle & patient with me when I was a little boy. I’d enter his room and marvel at his milk bottle filled with nickels, his red-and-white box of old 45s, “Whiskey Man” and “Ringo” and “Love Potion #9.” He liked science fiction books, “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “The Illustrated Man.” For a while there, he drove a Charles Chips truck, delivering pretzels & potato chips door to door. Imagine that. He worked at Bohack and Citgo gas station. Drove ridiculously cool & unreliable cars: a corvette, a mustang.
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I remember when he went off to Vietnam & remember, like it was yesterday, leaping into his arms when he returned. He came back a pot smoker w/ a deadly long-range jumper on the basketball court. Billy was warm and funny. A good time guy. He told the same stories, over and over again. Girls liked him.
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Xmas & the ever-present cigarette. Barbara, seated. He loved that Clockwork Orange soundtrack.
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For a long stretch, he was my favorite big brother, the way a five-year-old kid idolizes a big brother. I guess that’s the version of Billy I’ll remember & miss most. I am 100% sure that he saved his best love, his truest & most steadfast heart, for his only son, Kevin. As it should be. I grew up with four older brothers and I’ve now watched three of them get up & go: Neal, John, Bill. Big sigh.
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Billy pedaling, his brother Neal hitching a ride, maybe 1951 in America, Wantagh, Long Island. All the world at their feet. Neal passed in 1993. And ever since, like a ship with the ballast unbalanced, not quite sitting right in the water, our family has never been as sea-worthy. The end comes for us all.
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I’m sorry for your loss. Sibling death is very hard, but you have paid tribute to him with your fond memories. Thank you for sharing those memories with your followers.
So sorry to hear about your brother, Jimmy.
I enjoyed your portrait of him very much.
I wish more eulogies contained the words “glorious fuck-up.”
A very moving tribute. I had 3 older brothers myself. One fell victim to cancer 23 years ago. I have one of his sweatshirts and still wear it sometimes.
I worked painting houses with bill for many years, I so enjoyed his company, and his outlook on life, many good times, and yes he was quite a character, when he came to work he looked like a paint chart. Every inch of his clothes had a different color of paint on them, rest in peace bill your friend BRYAN HENN
Bryan Henn, that’s a name I’ve heard mentioned many times. I don’t believe we’ve met? Could that be true? Thank you for kind words.
Yes that could be true, that we have not meet,