Bill Heine
More Than Meets The Eye
My brother-in-law died suddenly almost three weeks ago due to COVD-19 infection. The loss shocked us all; it’s still hard to believe. Part of grief is remembering and paying tribute. I wrote this a few days after Bill died and in writing it I was led back over wonderful memories that helped soften the loss. But even now, rereading it, there are tears in my eyes all over again.
There’s a picture of Bill that is the essence of Bill to me. It’s of his rotund figure sitting, wearing a white bucket hat (even now I can literally hear family members shouting, “That hat!”) embroidered with the word ‘Italia’. He’s smiling broadly, probably after making a joke about being the Italian Stallion and his being ‘the perfect specimen of a man’, but more likely it’s after finishing some gelato. The picture captures something about him but there is so much more to him that you wouldn’t know from the picture.
Even that the picture was taken in Italy. Knowing Bill’s upbringing in working class wards of New Orleans you might think he’d never leave New Orleans. For all the worldliness of the city, residents of a certain age and background can be provincial. They have everything close to home, why would they need to leave? Not Bill, he embraced travel. And the trips were over the top. Renting an RV for weeks and traveling out west with his family in the 60’s? Not what you would expect from a man who travelled so much for his job, but it was classic Bill. Bill and Linda and Pat and I had some great European trips together and I cherish those memories.
But he didn’t have to travel to find adventure. He could find wonder in the smallest things, things others might overlook. The excitement he had at seeing mustard sold in a tube has become family lore. The anticipation of seasonal peppermint ice cream; he couldn’t wait. Like a kid at Christmas, but all year long! And he loved to share his enthusiasm with others, even when they weren’t as enthusiastic as he was. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him (well, maybe you would when you thought about his fashion sense) but he was such a kid at heart. Kids loved him. Kids really, really loved him. He never grew up; he was one of them and he loved them back. There may be no better tribute.
Often in obituaries you read, ‘He was a family man.’ And you would say the same about Bill but it went so much deeper than those words usually imply. Rather than a tribal meaning of family identifying who’s in and who’s out, Bill’s sense of family was open borders. It’s kind of a New Orleans thing where the cousin of a nephew of a brother-in-law is a close relative, but for Bill everyone he met was potential family. I sometimes try to explain how I am related to someone in the Heine family and get these curious looks that say, ‘so you’re not really related’, but we really are. The distinction between in-laws and “real” relatives was completely erased. And that is totally Bill. He was Uncle Bill to my kids but he was so much more, he was more like their grandfather and he stepped into the role like he was born for it. Maybe he was. And for that I am so, so thankful.
His inclusion of what a family is goes beyond what you might expect for someone his age, of his conservative Catholic upbringing. He was able to put love above dogma and in a quiet and graceful way he seemed to conclude that differences were non-issues. Total non-issues, just acceptance and love, exceeding expectations.
Seeing Bill, hearing about his business successes you might think: another rich old white guy. He looked the part. But he didn’t act the part. His humility and integrity seemed old-fashioned to the point of naiveté years ago, much less in the context of today’s greed associated with business success. His ideas were always about helping others, even for others to make money. He rose in the insurance industry, founded companies, merged and sold companies but his recent excitement was helping Oneika get a business plan together to start her own nursing assistant care company. Quintessential Bill.
Bill was closer to my mom’s age than to mine, but it never seemed like it. I always felt like we were contemporaries, maybe he was a little older, but he didn’t act it. And maybe that’s why his death is so hard to take. He wasn’t old enough! It wasn’t his time. But, of course, it was. Unexpected, unthinkable for me, but maybe not for him. Things are not always what they seem.
A few years back there was a thing going around, about all you needed to know you learned in kindergarten. Bill might be the epitome of this in the lessons he’s left us: enjoy yourself; be nice to others; “sharing is loving and loving is sharing”; and family is everything and everyone is family. It’s my hope and prayer that I can live the legacy of someone who, to me, was much more than just a brother-in-law, he was Family and so much more.
Jerry Heston (April 20, 2020)
This piece is an installment of Evergreen Presbyterian Church’s collective writing project, Practice Practice 2.0: Alone/Together, and it was written by a member of our church, Jerry. Follow us for new writings updated regularly.
