Bill Kraski loomed a giant among the weak. My first words to him were always, “How you feelin’?” For as long as I knew him, Bill was a member of “the walking wounded;” men who sometimes seemed to be “dead men walking.” Just his appearance welled up tears in me — till he started to converse.
Then came the smile, a little tease, then authentic laughter, now a return to a controlled face. “Okay!?” – was a half question/half reply — he “noted” my comments. “Okay?” Next came something that required deep thought (some details were missing), nevertheless after a few queries, profundity occurred. Bill gave us, in a short sentences, hours of meditation; the baritone spoke as a news reporter. He was a D.J
He had a command in him – authority!
It all makes sense, maybe not at first.
He hired a friend to drive him back and forth to his job at BWN. I never knew, maybe could have chipped in. Bill paid his own way.
Sometimes he had hair. Sometimes facial.
What we loved most about Bill was his presence with us. He was a cowboy in appearance. Sometimes did the hat too. Sometimes he had hair. Sometimes facial. When Bill was not around, we knew his breathing was bothering him. We prayed. He always came back. This time was different.
Our loss, God’s gain.
Bill Kraski is brightening heaven now. Our loss, God’s gain. He worked the Pastoral Care office with us. Just the fact that God was using Bill gave us all hope. Bill, the world did not deserve you. You, like all of us, are trophies of God’s grace. Your reward?a big one. Bill, we will miss you. Till then …