Funeral Homily for Bill Wall-The Rev Melanie Lemburg

The Very Rev Melanie Dickson Lemburg

Funeral Homily_Bill Wall

January 13, 2025

 

        Bill Wall was one of the kindest men I have ever met.  He was gentle and quiet, often listening more than he spoke.  His smile was warm, and he was always quick to share it.  And he had this little chuckle that let you know when he especially appreciated a comment. 

        There was a steadfastness to Bill.  Once he loved something or someone, he committed to it fully, whole-heartedly, and for his whole life.  We see this in his commitment to Savannah and his love of the water—from his early days on Richardson Creek to his many years living on the water at Burnside Island and the countless hours he spent out trolling in his little fishing boat.  (Sometimes he’d come home with fish, and sometimes, they’d have to go out and buy fish for supper.)  He worked for his entire career--30 years--as an accountant for Union Camp; he was a long-time, faithful member of this church, and for most of those years he attended the 8:00 am service which is definitely the service for “the few and the proud.”  He maintained life-long friendships with Marion and Al, and he met for years with a group of men on Wednesday mornings for coffee and conversation (some of which, I believe, involved kvetching—but certainly not on Bill’s part). 

        And then, of course, there is his marriage of almost 60 years to his beloved Beth—a marriage that has been one of clearly-evident mutual devotion.  Now, every once in a while, Bill’s pragmatic accountant side would come out in their marriage, and whenever Beth wanted to buy something new, he’d reply, “Well, that’s just a waste of money!”  But I suspect he usually came around to your way of thinking, Beth, given a little bit of time and conversation. 

        There’s a line in a Father’s Day prayer that we pray here every year, and it always makes me think of Bill.  The prayer is giving thanks for the variety of types fathers we find in our lives, and the line I’m thinking of is giving thanks “For those men who have no children, but cherish the next generation as if they were their own.”  Bill and Beth have had a whole slew of what they call “OP children”:  that is “other peoples’ children.”  I suspect that some of you “op children” are here now.  Raise your hand if Bill Wall taught you how to throw the shrimp net.  Now raise your hand if you were someone who has felt cherished by Uncle Bull/ “Mr. Bill’s” kind attention. 

        These last months have not been easy ones for Bill and Beth.  His health has declined, and they have walked faithfully together through that.  I can’t help but believe that his death was on his own terms.  He went home from the hospital on Tuesday under hospice care, and he died in his sleep in his own bed, with Beth beside him.  A gentle death for a gentle man. 

        So, in some ways it was sudden, but it would have never been any easier.  And we gather today to mourn the loss of this good, faithful man in this life among us.

        We also gather today to remember the hope of our faith, the hope of Bill’s faith:  that death is not the end, but a change; that when our mortal body lies in death, there is a dwelling place prepared for us in God’s eternal kingdom.  We remember that in Jesus’s death and resurrection, God has proven, once and for all, that God’s love is stronger than absolutely anything, even death.  And we hold fast to the hope that we will, one day when it is our time, join Bill as we feast together at God’s heavenly banquet. 

        We are so grateful to have known him.  His love and his kind example have made us all better people.