Bill was one of those children who suffered the slings and arrows of life early on in childhood. While he was in grade school, Bill’s mother and sister were killed one night when they ran into the back of an unlit spud truck in Menan. There aren’t many things worse than losing your mother when you are a kid. He took it hard and blamed others for his circumstances. He needed a mother. Instead, he got a stepmother and step-siblings. He might just as well have been a red-headed step-child, but his hair was black and wavy and he was blessed with good looks and a muscular frame. It was his behavior and chip on his shoulder that led everyone to think he was tough and mean. He ran with a rough crowd and most everyone soon figured out not to cross him.
The last time I saw Bill before I left Rigby was in an alley behind the Main Theater. After the movie, my friends and I heard that there was a fight — it was no surprise that Bill was involved. By the time we got there, the fight was over and Bill had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Both arms were bloody to the elbows and he had just knocked the sense out of some poor kid who didn’t know better than to mouth off to him. Bill married one of our classmates while in high school. They later divorced and I just figured that he continued living with choices that usually make most people unhappy. I did not know that his fortunes had changed when he married a girl from Firth. Five years younger, she gradually helped Bill change his life.
It was about 15 years later that I saw Bill and his young family at the Crossroads Mall in downtown Salt Lake City. He came right up to me and looked me straight in the eye and warmly shook my hand and told me how nice it was to see me. I knew that I knew him, but he had to tell me his name. I concealed my surprise, but after we parted, I slowly realized that this man was a much different Bill than the one I had known in high school.
Soon after, I learned that Bill had been called to serve in a bishopric and within a few weeks had to conduct a funeral because the bishop and first counselor were out of town. Part of the congregation were mourners and ward members. They knew of Bill’s progress and were pleased to see him conducting a funeral. The other half only remembered the old Bill and sat there with their jaws gaping — surprised at the fact that he was conducting a funeral, let alone that he was doing so with kindness, grace, and dignity.
Bill is not the first man to overcome adversity and make something good happen after being dealt a really bad hand. Nor is he the first man to change his ways and surprise his peers. Going through the refiner’s fire can surprise a lot of people.
Ever vigilant,
RT
Commentaires