On June 8, 1958 in South Bend, Indiana, Lynn, Susan, Caroline, Lisa and Jill Abram breathed a sigh of relief that the long-awaited boy was finally born; because the folks weren’t going to stop until they got one. What ensued for our victim, Billy, was unbridled and unsolicited “guidance” from his well-meaning gaggle of sisters. Too bad our vast knowledge didn’t include the common practice that males stand up to urinate. It may or may not be true that it took going to school for him to get the memo.

It is true that school wasn’t really his thing. He was a hands-on guy, curious about everything and had no trouble teaching himself mechanics, horticulture, construction, cabinetry, guitar, just to name a few. He started working at only nine years of age as part of a maintenance crew for a townhome complex where the family was living in Wichita, Kansas. He saved his money and bought a motorbike. He developed a reputation as a “cute little badass” in middle school, introducing marijuana to a couple of friends and even smoking that or tobacco under a portable building while just in elementary school. He was never proud of only making it through the 8th grade, but there was a lot going against him in his home life then. At age 16 he joined sister Lisa (who was 20 at the time) in Colorado. She became his legal guardian and tried like hell to get him to go to high school. He just wasn’t having it but excelled in the woodworking classes at the local community college. Always the adventurer, he got it in his head that he could jump on the train that went by their place daily. Luckily, he was willing to accept the alternative of a hitch-hiking, backpacking camping trip to Estes Park (no backpacks, though; only grocery bags stuffed with inadequate supplies). Fun was had and friends were made.

Billy’s brother from another mother, Kent Meireis, credits Billy for introducing him to (aside from the weed) bicycling, tennis, music, traveling and backpacking. In 1976 they made an epic trip from Wichita to Alabama to Florida and up the east coast where they hiked the Appalachian Trail and then on to Michigan.

From then on, life was mostly about work. He spent six years as a machinist/journeyman for Blanchat Machine Co. in Wichita fabricating airplane parts and components. Colorado continually called to him though, and so in 1982 he joined brother-in-law Ray in the construction business until forming his own company in 1992. During this time, he designed and built his own speculative home and instructed construction classes at Front Range Community College.

Billy and his sister Jill were inseparable until early adulthood drew them apart and they lost touch with each other for a couple of years. The universe stepped in to correct that though. One Christmas Billy was on Long Island visiting his then wife’s family and Jill was there with a friend who was visiting her family. They randomly passed each other walking across a bridge and ended up spending the vacation together.

Craving a change of scenery from Colorado, Billy joined Jill in the Mendocino area of California and continued his construction company in a more scaled-down way until he re-joined Ray in Humboldt County as partner and project superintendent for residential and commercial developments. The housing crash of 2008 took its toll on that endeavor and by then Billy’s body was feeling the effects of years of physical labor. Besides having such valuable expertise and “owning every tool known to man”, he was pretty burned out on the volatility of the construction industry. He was “rode hard and put away wet” (his words, not mine). It was easy then to transition to joining Jill and her partner in an off the grid stewardship of an 80-acre distressed farm in Ettersburg.

In addition to growing crops, raising chickens, putting in a new water system and remodeling the house, Jill invited Billy into shuttling hikers of the Lost Coast Trail. They had big plans and big dreams for this life until it was shattered by Jill having several debilitating strokes and then passing away in 2016. Billy’s grief was and remained profound. One thing that kept him going was that Jill told him she wanted him to keep shuttling.

Billy was so much more than a shuttle driver. He became known by thousands of hikers as a character (“Wild Bill”) who would pack his tobacco pipe for luck before navigating the roads like a boss. He shuttled people on their bucket list hikes from all over the world including many celebrities. His motto was to “get his precious cargo from point A to point B in a safe and timely manner,” and he was true to that in all his actions even if he had to make a safety call to cancel someone after hours of careful planning. He had a deep reverence for the wilderness and wildlife of the King Range and Lost Coast and provided copious information and entertainment for the hikers.

Billy passed away at home on May 20, 2023 from sudden cardiac arrest into the heavenly arms/paws of our mom Dolores “Duz” Harms, sister Jill Abram and numerous beloved pets. Left here to wonder who we’re going to worry and fuss about now are sisters Lynn Sawicky (Rich), Susan Abram, Caroline Abram and Lisa Abram Nelson (Ray). Billy also enjoyed his role as cool uncle to Jenny Sawicky Leon (Rick), Betsy Sawicky, Aaron Sawicky (Takara), Abe Hanna (Jessica), Lindsey Nelson (Jon) and Joel Nelson (d’Arcy); a role that also extended to numerous great nieces and nephews.

Billy’s ashes will be buried at the Olive Chapel Cemetery in New Carlisle, Indiana where we’re literally related to everyone. With loved ones scattered far and wide a digital memorial tribute is planned for the near future. The family wishes to thank Sandy Miles and Alle Rose for their earthly assistance and Billy’s guardian angels for keeping him with us as long as they did and for shuttling him on to his next adventure — in a safe and timely manner.

“It’s not the years in your life, but the life in your years.” -unknown

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