In Memory

Bill Marshall -75 - Class Of 1975

Surviving to mourn Bill's passing is his wife of 29 1/2 years, Karen; two children: Rebecka (Robert) Starkey of Pittsburgh, PA and William A. (Lauren) Marshall of Munster, IN; mother, Billie Jean Marshall of Crown Point, IN; two siblings: Michael (Melissa) Marshall of Forest Park, IL and Kimberlee (David) Foy of Dyer, IN; uncle, Tom (late Bessie) Williams of Crossville, TN; mother and father-in-law: Arthur (Marilyn) Vankat of Grand Rapids, MI; brothers and sisters-in-law: Linda (Peter) Luckey of Lawrence, KS and Paul (Susan) Vankat of Henderson, NV; as well as many nieces, nephews, cousins and friends. Waiting to greet him in Heaven is his father, William C. Marshall.

Once a Falcon

 After leaving all of you on Saturday night, I did what I assume the rest of you did. I thought quite a bit about what we just experienced in our visit with Bill and his family. While all of us have different life experiences that over time have formed who we are, this was a first for me. I have never been in the presence of someone I know who was as sick as Bill is. I've never been in a situation where I have seen family members rallying around that person and been able to ask "How are you doing?" At the ripe old age of 48, I guess there is still a lot I have yet to see. Who would have thought 30-35 years ago that we would still be getting together as members of those long gone Falcon teams of the 70's? In those days we basically were concerned about getting through the next interval in a workout or the upcoming conference dual meet. Did the color of the shoelaces on my spikes enhance the look of my uniform? Mike Marshall, you know what I'm talking about! Did any of us fast-forward to this moment in time……ever? Well there were things I wanted to say the other night, but in a cautious manner I refrained. I feared that if I said certain things that in light of Bill's fragile condition they may make the occasion of our gathering more somber and difficult. So here's my chance. Crouched in front of this keyboard I have far more courage than I did Saturday evening. The first thing I want to say is how fortunate I feel to have been associated with all of you over these many years. As a punk kid in Junior High, the older guys at Thornridge never made me feel unwelcome as I joined you in workouts and races. Only once did I hear anyone object to my presence. It was a cold day late in the cross-country season. I rushed over from St. Jude to run with you guys as a 7th grader. I was waiting by the doors just outside the locker room and I heard someone say "Is that little shit here again?!" I don't know who said it or if it was directed at me, but I assumed it was since I clearly fit the description of "little shit". Coach Nicholson walked past and asked me if I was ready to run. I told him I thought I might run on my own that day because I heard someone "complain" about me being there. We talked for a few moments, and out of the locker room came one of the older guys on the team. He walked by and simply said "Everyone's welcome here". That guy was Bill Marshall. That was 36 years ago and I still remember it. 36 years from now I'll be 84. I guarantee if I'm healthy or alive I will still remember that. As years have gone by, most of us have maintained contact with each other. As one of the younger guys, I did not maintain contact with Bill. He was 3 classes ahead of me, but I have had the privilege of competing and rooming with Mike at Thornridge and ISU. Mike has always been nothing short of a great teammate and a great friend. I'm going to assume he learned a good deal from his older brother. I (as the rest of you) have been the lucky recipient of that. It is rare for me not to reflect back on some of the things we did together in High School. There are always triggers…things that take me back to those days. It may be the angle of the sun as it sets in late autumn. It may be the sweet smell of that late autumn grass as it decomposes. "That smell...you know that cross-country smell. Smells like…………VICTORY!" I believe they hijacked that line from me (altered it slightly) and used it in Apocalypse Now. I've been in airports waiting for a flight in some obscure city only to see some kid walk by in Nike shoes with a HS Cross Country sweatshirt on. Memories pour back into my mind, and they are always good ones. I have tried to impart some of these things to my own daughter as she races through her volleyball career. The importance of team/how everyone contributes to all of the success/how she has no idea how much all of this will affect her positively as she gets older and moves into other phases of her life. I think she is too young to get it. I think maybe I was too……..until Saturday night. It's been said that runners spend their careers running in circles, never getting anywhere. I couldn't disagree more. We covered more ground in those years both literally and figuratively than many will in a lifetime. We got somewhere, but only we were there to know it. I remember lots of conversations I had with you guys over the years. I also remember finishing races, exhausted, working my way through the chute. Too tired to say much else, we would mutter things like "great race, nice run" or something along those lines to each other. When our lungs would once again fill with air, we would relive the race as we cooled down. Not in the context of a race, but in looking back at his life, Bill is finishing strong. He has the blessing of being surrounded by those he loves and they love him back. You could really feel that on Saturday. As I finish here, I am not exhausted and I am not snaking my way through a chute, yet those words echo in my head as they relate to Bill. I could say more, but what could be better than "Great run Bill…great run!" Jim Galen

 

 







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