I don’t recall much, aside from the gift of a Crookes radiometer.
In the mid-1990s while studying at university I began emailing Bill. It might’ve been 1996 and his replies would promptly arrive overnight, discussing largely mundane matters but clearly enjoying connecting and communicating from the other side of the world.
In 1999 at the end of my studies, I visited him in Evanston and appreciated the opportunity to accompany him on his walk from home to Northwestern University and observe him still checking his email.
By that point he was becoming increasingly frail but still following his routine and maintaining correspondence, as well as reviewing the next iteration of the star catalogue that had been a substantial part of his career as an astronomer.
One morning on that visit I asked him about his attitude toward death.
He replied that at age 79 he’d lived beyond the average for a male and that “each day is a gift”.
It was a statement that consoled me and I remember relaying it to my mother when she later learned of his death.
Another highlight of that trip to Evanston was getting a sense of Bill’s relationship with my grandmother Royal.
One morning as Bill and I ate breakfast, Royal entered the room to join us and Bill stood while she sat at the table.
When he resumed sitting and eating I could see that he’d now positioned his body to be slightly turned toward her.
After that I’d notice how attentive Bill was to Royal and it was very sweet to see the subtle displays of his love.
That visit gave me an appreciation of Bill’s good-natured grace.
