When I first met Bill he was a friend of my brother’s. They
were both studying to be priests at a monastery in Melbourne. Bill and my
brother Damien left religious life before becoming priests, and both embarked
on a lifestyle that involved catching up on lost time. My first strong
post-monastery memories of Bill were visiting a house he shared with other
students and consuming huge amounts of marijuana, listening to a lot of Frank
Zappa, and engaging in challenging and stimulating intellectual debates about
life. As a much younger man the nature of these highly articulate conversations
greatly impressed me.
As fate would have it Bill and I would both end up spending
a lot of time in Israel. Bill eventually married a Jewish woman and lived there
for many years but we first met in Israel in 1981 when he was living on a
kibbutz outside of Jerusalem. Our second
meeting was in Ashqelon when we both parents with young children. Our third and
fourth meetings were in Jerusalem. I was in Israel attending conferences and
Bill was working as a lawyer for an organisation that represented Palestinians
in court in their battles with the Israeli state.
And therein lies a tale of who Bill was, and the
schizophrenic nature of life in Israel for anyone who cares about the parties
on both sides of the conflict. During this time Bill lived in Jerusalem and
travelled across to the West Bank each day to work for Palestinians. Each day
after work he returned to his Israeli friends on the other side of the conflict.
Despite the fact that it had progressively become more and
more of a rogue state that saw itself above the law we both loved Israel. It
was this shared joy of the land, its people and the profound experiences it
afforded us that saw us grow closer as the years rolled by. When Bill returned
to Australia we shared fond memories and a mutual understanding of the
complexities of Israel. It left indelible marks on both of us. And both of us
had little or no contact with anyone else who had spent much time in Israel. Israel was our shared story that we both
cherished, and that few others understood.
I may write more about Bill’s life down the track a bit. This text is just a brief glimpse of a remarkable story about a remarkable
man. Bill was one of those larger than life characters who always seemed to be
living life in some kind of action movie where the unlikely becomes more
likely, and the impossible becomes possible. He was indeed a lovable larrikin, but as
erudite and articulate a person as you’ll ever meet. He was also a ratbag that
you tolerated because of the love that lived within his generous soul.
Bill was a storyteller. The last time I saw him I told him
how much I enjoyed his stories over the years, but that I was never sure what
was fact and what was embellishment. His reply? “It was all embellishment!” No
it wasn’t Bill – we both know that – but you made me laugh one last time.
I loved you mate. And I know you loved me. Watching your coffin disappear at your
funeral was like having parts of me stripped away. And I realised then and
there that I had begun the gradual journey to my own end. Offering me one last
lesson Bill. Teaching me right to the very end.
Rest in peace chaver yakar sheli (my dear friend).
