Where ever you may be please know that on many an occasion I have thought about you and what a bummer it was that you died at such a young age. You and I shared the same birthday and you were the first boy I fell in love with at the ripe old age of 5 (we were in the same kindergarten class at Lincoln). With a name like PRINCE it was meant to be (I had a Cinderella complex)! Even my parents loved you. Though in growing up our paths crossed less and less, everytime I walked past your house behind Orange Grove park I knew (and did) I could always knock on the door and say hi to whomever was home because friends at 5 are friends forever. I hope your last days were happy and you felt you did what you wanted and needed to do before leaving this earth. As I haven't been to So Pas in quite a few years I never got a chance to send my thoughts to the family but if someone sees this letter and is in contact with the Princes' would you please deliver it to them? It is never too late to share fond memories of a classmate. Rest in Peace Bill rince. Bacio from Italy - Georgia
I had 2 best friends growing up in So. Pasadena, Bill Prince and Scott Trimbath. After high school, as with most of you, you lose track of friends and classmates. A few years after high school, I realized just how good my life was, how simple things were. I know that during my teenage years I, at times said and did things that were wrong. I was very competitive and let my ego and cockiness take over. I remember when I was about 15 and spent the night at Bills house. Man, could Mary Lou cook a mean breakfast. I don't think Bill and I ever fought or argued over anything. There were many years that I did'nt see Bill after high school. About 2 years before he passed, we were again buddies, just like before, but with one difference, alcohol had taken it's course and I didn't know what to do, because I felt very strongly that he had lost the will to live.I will always love him and cherrish our friendship. Marc Crockett
Bill and I were in home economics together and we partnered up a few times to cook. I feel that it's such a tragedy when someone is lost so young. Cuddle my son until the rest of us get there. Cyndi Coots Gould
Bill was one of my first friends in south pas as a new kid in 6th grade at Lincoln School. He and Crockett and Trimbath introduced me to such wonderful things as:
Pinky rear...sliding down the storm drains into the wash in the arroyo seco! if you haven't done that, you haven't lived yet. Bill taught me the finer points of that experience.
Lincoln School wiffle ball...man, the best place to play!
And I could go on and on. Will never forget having a job interview in LA and having some free time. Drove to Bill's house, knocked on the door, asked for Willy, and was told that he was dead...that was tough. Caught me off guard. Went and cried like a baby.
Look forward to the day when I'll see Bill again...by His grace.
I was deeply saddened when I first heard of Bill's predicament from Jimmy Love, shortly before his passing.
I met B.P. in the 3rd. grade at Lincoln. I can remember hanging out at the Orange Grove, and at his parents place during the world series. His sister Valerie, dad who worked for the Parks Dept. and his mom Mary Lou, who was the first and only woman I ever met who smoked a pipe like popeye the sailor.
In the sixth grade, Bill approached me with some beer he took out of his dad's stash, and asked me if I wanted to get drunk behind the shanty by the alley at Lincoln. I told him I wasn't sure it was a good idea, and that I needed to ask my father about it. My dad being quite irresponsible but honest, told me he personally didn't care for the alchohol buzz, but if I was really interested, he'd buy me a six pack and let me get drunk, but I had to promise to stay in his house.
At the local Market Basket, I chose this awful swill called Brew 102, and proceeded to get really innebriated. Long story short, I had such a bad recovery, it took away any thought of doing it again. To this day I never drink anything remotely alcholic except the occaisional kombucha.
Years later my mom told me my dad thought it would be funny to get me smashed when I was 18 months old. I guess to him it was, but she didn't speak to him for a week. I went to a naturopath and got blood tested for allergins in the early 2000's, and found out I was allergic to alchohol. Too bad Billy wasn't the same.
I loved Bill's exuberance, and his athletic abilities, and his very funny sense of humor. Sixth grade in Mrs. Anderson's class at Lincoln, with the Salas twins, Corky King, Doyle, Jim Love, Jimmy Griffin and the rest of the posse just prior to the summer of love, was my best memory of school hands down.
If I had known then how things worked out, I'd of spent more time trying to stop him from ending his life in such a sad manner. Rest in Peace my departed brother, I'll see you in the great beyond, where all suffering and strife has no quarter...
Georgia Shaver (Shaver-Boccaccini)
Dear Bill,Where ever you may be please know that on many an occasion I have thought about you and what a bummer it was that you died at such a young age. You and I shared the same birthday and you were the first boy I fell in love with at the ripe old age of 5 (we were in the same kindergarten class at Lincoln). With a name like PRINCE it was meant to be (I had a Cinderella complex)! Even my parents loved you. Though in growing up our paths crossed less and less, everytime I walked past your house behind Orange Grove park I knew (and did) I could always knock on the door and say hi to whomever was home because friends at 5 are friends forever. I hope your last days were happy and you felt you did what you wanted and needed to do before leaving this earth. As I haven't been to So Pas in quite a few years I never got a chance to send my thoughts to the family but if someone sees this letter and is in contact with the Princes' would you please deliver it to them? It is never too late to share fond memories of a classmate. Rest in Peace Bill rince. Bacio from Italy - Georgia
Marc Crockett
I had 2 best friends growing up in So. Pasadena, Bill Prince and Scott Trimbath. After high school, as with most of you, you lose track of friends and classmates. A few years after high school, I realized just how good my life was, how simple things were. I know that during my teenage years I, at times said and did things that were wrong. I was very competitive and let my ego and cockiness take over. I remember when I was about 15 and spent the night at Bills house. Man, could Mary Lou cook a mean breakfast. I don't think Bill and I ever fought or argued over anything. There were many years that I did'nt see Bill after high school. About 2 years before he passed, we were again buddies, just like before, but with one difference, alcohol had taken it's course and I didn't know what to do, because I felt very strongly that he had lost the will to live.I will always love him and cherrish our friendship. Marc CrockettCyndi Coots (Gould)
Bill and I were in home economics together and we partnered up a few times to cook. I feel that it's such a tragedy when someone is lost so young. Cuddle my son until the rest of us get there. Cyndi Coots GouldAlan Hueth
Bill was one of my first friends in south pas as a new kid in 6th grade at Lincoln School. He and Crockett and Trimbath introduced me to such wonderful things as:Pinky rear...sliding down the storm drains into the wash in the arroyo seco! if you haven't done that, you haven't lived yet. Bill taught me the finer points of that experience.
Lincoln School wiffle ball...man, the best place to play!
And I could go on and on. Will never forget having a job interview in LA and having some free time. Drove to Bill's house, knocked on the door, asked for Willy, and was told that he was dead...that was tough. Caught me off guard. Went and cried like a baby.
Look forward to the day when I'll see Bill again...by His grace.
Michael Pennington
I was deeply saddened when I first heard of Bill's predicament from Jimmy Love, shortly before his passing.
I met B.P. in the 3rd. grade at Lincoln. I can remember hanging out at the Orange Grove, and at his parents place during the world series. His sister Valerie, dad who worked for the Parks Dept. and his mom Mary Lou, who was the first and only woman I ever met who smoked a pipe like popeye the sailor.
In the sixth grade, Bill approached me with some beer he took out of his dad's stash, and asked me if I wanted to get drunk behind the shanty by the alley at Lincoln. I told him I wasn't sure it was a good idea, and that I needed to ask my father about it. My dad being quite irresponsible but honest, told me he personally didn't care for the alchohol buzz, but if I was really interested, he'd buy me a six pack and let me get drunk, but I had to promise to stay in his house.
At the local Market Basket, I chose this awful swill called Brew 102, and proceeded to get really innebriated. Long story short, I had such a bad recovery, it took away any thought of doing it again. To this day I never drink anything remotely alcholic except the occaisional kombucha.
Years later my mom told me my dad thought it would be funny to get me smashed when I was 18 months old. I guess to him it was, but she didn't speak to him for a week. I went to a naturopath and got blood tested for allergins in the early 2000's, and found out I was allergic to alchohol. Too bad Billy wasn't the same.
I loved Bill's exuberance, and his athletic abilities, and his very funny sense of humor. Sixth grade in Mrs. Anderson's class at Lincoln, with the Salas twins, Corky King, Doyle, Jim Love, Jimmy Griffin and the rest of the posse just prior to the summer of love, was my best memory of school hands down.
If I had known then how things worked out, I'd of spent more time trying to stop him from ending his life in such a sad manner. Rest in Peace my departed brother, I'll see you in the great beyond, where all suffering and strife has no quarter...