Bill Aydelotte was a classmate of mine. He was kind of a tall, gawky kid with ears that stuck out funny. He stayed on the island where we grew up and ended up buying the little tavern where we all use to drink illegally when we were 16 or 17. The drinking age was only 18 back in those days because the logic was if you were old enough to die for your country in a war, you were old enough to get drunk. Apparently these days that is not true...you may well be old enough to die for your country; but you are not old enough to make the choice to drink, smoke, or even drive at night in some states at 18. Pretty strange thinking in my opinion. Keep those damn cigarettes away from the kids, but allow the military to court them in high school hallways...whatever makes money I guess.
It would seem to me that if a person is not old enough to make these kinds of choices..then would deciding to kill or die not also be one of those things that should be held for a more mature age?

Anyway, Bill grew up to be a good man; supported a lot of kids' sports teams, backed many activities in the community. Whenever anyone who'd left came back to visit, they'd stop by BA's first and get all the latest news on what was happening on the island. I guess Bill knew everything about who was doing what, marrying who, divorcing who...all the inside dope. I don't know, because I didn't go back much. I had too many bad memories of the place. My childhood was a wreck, and school was a nightmare. I couldn't see the good things that had happened there because it was over-shadowed and my fears of the place had become mythical in my own mind.

Sometime last year, Billy got diagnosed with brain cancer. He knew his chances, and they weren't good; but instead of worrying about it, he looked towards the future. He had a plan: a 40th high school reunion. The news went out and the work began. I didn't know it, but all over the country people started working like busy little elves preparing and organising. July 4th weekend was set for the date and those involved started searching for the 200 lost souls of the class of '68...quickly...time bearing down on them.

About 100 of us came together on Grand Island this past weekend. Sadly, Bill Aydelotte didn't get to be there with us...but what he accomplished before he left this earth was inspiring and miraculous! I experienced more love, more warm bear hugs and more joy during the past three days than I have in the past three years! People who never had a thing in common ended the weekend best friends; and best friends hung on to each other like there was no tomorrow. And one hundred people found true love.
Myself? My face hurts from smiling...I understand a whole lot better the true meaning of love and friendship...and for the very first time in my life, that little island never looked so beautiful. I couldn't get enough of it and the tears streamed down my cheeks as she disappeared from view as I looked through the rear window while my girlfriend Marsha drove us back home; a friend I shall make sure I treasure all the more in the future.

Thank you Billy...you sure earned your wings and halo with this one!