Bill Pulaski at Fort Pulaski, Savannah, GA 1996

April 24,1997........

Where do I begin? How do I express my feelings the day after my cousin, my dear friend has passed away. I laid in bed this morning with tears flowing, thinking of all the things we did together. Thinking of all the future plans that we had to enjoy retirement together.....the four of us. The trips, the reunions, just getting together to try to beat him in a game of Pitch or Blackjack. Just memories now..... and for years to come.

As kids growing up together, we were neighbors, him at 590 and I at 582 Cheshire Road just South of the Lanesboro line in Pittsfield, MA. He was nearly three years older than I which was probably the reason I looked up to him so much. He was like the older brother I never had.

As kids we didn’t do what would be considered normal today. There was no smoking, no drugs, no disrespect for others. We found pleasure in the outdoors and the bond we shared growing up together. We spent a lot of time combing the woods behind our houses. We day-dreamed like all kids do of growing up and owning ranches out west with horses and cattle. Doesn’t seem that long ago.

We had our favorite places to explore in the woods that probably covered a ten square mile area. The favorite place was off Gulf Road which was and still is a dirt road that goes from Rt. 8 in Lanesboro to Dalton. At the high point in the road is what we called the "Rocks". A formation of rocks climbing to the top of the mountain that looked like someone had blasted the mountain with dynamite to create. At least it appeared to have been created that way. I’m sure it is a natural formation though. At the base of the Rocks is a cave that goes under the road. The access is only a very small crawl space about 15 feet long that enters into a large room. We would go there all the time, probably looking for buried treasure. Snakes and bugs never bothered us.

There was an old logging road off Gulf Road that took you to the very top of the mountain. Up there was an old apple orchard, abandoned for many years but still producing a lot of apples. In the fall we would grab some grain sacks, jump on our bikes and head for the apple orchard. Of course we would have to push the bikes all the way up the logging road to the top of the mountain. After filling the grain sacks, we would lay them across the handle bars and try to make it down the logging road. Those sacks had to weigh 50 pounds each. By the time we got them home most of the apples would be converted to apple juice from dropping them off the handle-bars. But it was fun.

One year we built a ski jump in the summer and waited for the snow to fall. Of course we built the jump at the very bottom of the hill. The first time over that jump we realized that meeting up with the ground after going over it seemed to hurt more than it was supposed to. They never told us that you should still be going down hill after going over a jump. And the skis’......nothing but a small leather strap to hold them on your boot.

All us kids went to Crane school on Dalton Ave. in Pittsfield. I think it is an apartment building now. One of the games we would play was called Chicken. A team consisted of a big kid with a little kid sitting on his shoulders. Picture two big kids with little kids on their shoulders and the object was for the little kids to try to knock each other off the big kid. Well I was the little kid and my horse was Bill. Bill was as rugged as they come. While other kids were at the candy store or just hanging around, Bill was at home with a pick and shovel building a stone wall that when finished was 4 feet high and about 100 feet long on the North side of his fathers property. Needless to say, Bill and I were the Chicken champs.

As we grew up I would follow in his footsteps. Bill joined the Navy and I did also three years later. Bill married and settled in New York State and I married and settled in Pittsfield. We tended to drift apart during those years of raising children, and doing what was necessary to provide for our families. I think it was about 15 years ago when we both decided we had "been there, done that, bought the lousy T-shirt". It was time to get back together and pick up where we left off as kids.

One weekend Bill, Sandi, Daryl and I headed to Rockingham race track at Salem, NH. It was on this trip that we laid the plan for the first Poplawski, Poplaski, Pulaski family reunion. The thought came from a bug put in Bill’s ear from Uncle Gene Gzula. What fun it was getting together in the ensuing months to finalize those plans. As everyone knows, it was a complete success with about 250 in attendance over a three day 4th of July weekend in 1989. The reunion has continued successfully since then every year.

As Bill and I got closer during this period of our lives I found out what a person he was. I found out what a provider he was and of his unselfish love for his family. He treasured his kids, he treasured his grandkids, and he treasured his wife Sandi to the very end. And he treasured Andale.

He did more in his short lived life than most of us would do in two lifetimes. What he had he shared with his family.

Bill and I have spent the past couple years upgrading our computers and learning the ropes together for making full use of the Internet. We kept in contact with each other via E-Mail and Internet phone whether he was in Santa Fe, Rio (Ouaquaga, NY), or on one of their trips as he would bring his notebook computer. I’m going to miss that. There will be an empty hole in my life that really can’t be filled.

Bill lived his life like there would always be a tomorrow. He barely took time between projects to catch his breath. During and in between projects they would travel back and forth to their 2nd home in Santa Fe. Then there was always a timeshare swap for a week in Vermont, Hawaii, Florida, Puerto Rico, Mexico or some other exciting place. Barely time to unpack their bags. It was fun tracing their footsteps via E-Mail.

This is how I will remember him. Full of life and happiness. Always being the entrepreneur.....even on vacation with the telephone. Always making his kids and grandkids a major part of his life. Always sharing life to the fullest with Sandi.

He wouldn’t want us to be saddened with our loss.

You know, I never heard him utter a cuss word in his life. I can just hear him now saying "What the crap is going on here".

I’m going to miss you Bill,

Frank Pulaski