Billy

At an American Society of Civil Engineer’s Dinner honoring a few of the outstanding individuals in our profession, my long time friend, George, remarked that when you look for the old, wise, usually gray and/or balding heads, they are us. He lamented the fact that that there was a time when if you had a design or construction problem, you could and would seek someone who had more experience or in-depth knowledge about a particular subject. All you had to do was speak clearly, be specific and provide detail. As we have gotten older, we learned from those who mentored us, some of our co-workers and our own experiences.

Billy called the other day. The conversation went like this. “Hank, I turned in my papers. I’ m retiring. A couple of more weeks and I leave for good. With this recent”, he paused for a few seconds; “it is time for my wife and I now. I can’t do any more for the kids.” I replied, "You’re right Bill. It is time. If not now, when?”

We had talked about this a few months before and that this is the third time he has retired from the airport. Billy retired twice only to go back to work on a part time basis in order to help his kids financially through some difficulties. He couldn’t do any more for his daughter who was diagnosed with a form of incurable cancer only a month before she was to be married. She and her fiancé were married. She passed away shortly thereafter.

Billy won’t let anyone talk him into coming back again. He and his wife will spend more time together at their second home upstate as well as doing some traveling.

I had met Billy about seven years ago while working at JFK International Airport. Bill is an engineer from the old school of civil engineering and heavy construction, the school that seems to me to be passing from existence with each man’s retirement. That school required that you did the job right the first time and that you got the job done, the legacy of Robert Moses. All jobs get done but it is in how they get done that counts whether planning, design and/or construction. It is men like Billy whom I respect. He is a man’s man. He says what he means and means what he says.

Billy has been involved with either the original construction of the runways, taxiways and aprons and certainly most of their reconstruction since the airport was first known as Idlewild. I remember one time when Billy wasn’t happy with how concrete was being cured. He took the tools from the laborer’s hands and spray cured an entire panel. He handed it back and said, “That is how it is done.” He didn’t say another word. You understand a man who says something once and doesn’t have to say another word because that is the way it has to be and it will be that way. There are few men like this in our profession and when one like Billy retires his knowledge and experience go with him.





Bunky, another old airport hand couldn’t make it to Billy’s second retirement as he is battling heart disease and cancer. Bunky knows where all the bodies are buried. All you have to do is listen to gain his insight. We met for breakfast one bright sunny Saturday morning when Bunky asked a favor. “Sure Bunky, anything you want.” Bunky continued, “After people say all their insincere speeches, and he is given gifts, ask Billy to sit in a chair so everyone can see. Tell him you have a gift from me. He’ll sit there not knowing what to expect. Wait a second, and then give him a big, old sloppy kiss on the cheek.” “You got it Bunky!” And so it came to be to much hilarious laughter.

At the airport, we often compared notes, adding perspective to the various aspects of our projects. Along with Ray, who has spent over forty years at JFK and has decided to work two days a week, we were able to discuss strategy in how to accomplish a particular goal, get around an obstacle, or simply to get a contract enforced in order to produce a quality project. It is said by those who can not compare to these men, that if it isn’t Ray’s way it is no way. It would be wise if wags who make similar statements tried to learn half as much as Ray, Bunky or Billy has forgotten.

The wake before the funeral for Billy’s daughter had to have been attended by over one thousand people. One had to park several blocks away. There were three polite, young police officers who opened and closed the main doors for everyone who entered or left. The place was jammed with people who wanted to pay their respects to the family. I ran into several fellows who I worked with at JFK. They asked about the Captree Bridge reconstruction project and the shorter commute but they were really there for Billy.

Billy’s brother and I talked for quite a while. He was an electrical engineer when he worked at JFK and was a great help during construction of the aircraft deicing facility. He too knew how to get the job done and do it well. While waiting on line to express my condolences, I spoke with others who have the utmost respect for Billy and his family. Your thoughts are that it is so sad and unnatural for a parent to bury a child. What do you say to a parent who buries his daughter? I shook Billy’s hand and said a few words. Billy gave me a bear hug and a big, old sloppy kiss on the cheek, a reminder of the gift from Bunky, several years past. Without saying a word, his action said thanks for being here for me and my family. I only wished I could have done more.


Hank Hessing