Will and I did a lot of hunting on Haida Gwaii over the years.  From 2004 to 2015 with breaks in between there are a lot of memories to share from my time in the bush with Will.

I still can’t believe that our last hunt of the season would be the last hunt ever.  I’ve just returned home for the first time since his passing and it’s been hard.  “His couch”, his bed still laid out in the spare room, some scattered books.  My dad just finished the new wood shed that Will and I started building 2 years ago.

When I returned home from the Antarctica in February 2015 Will picked me up from the ferry terminal.  To be honest I hardly recognised him.  Since December 2014 he had been on a diet and lost a lot of weight!  We got some Chinese food for the kids and of course he wouldn’t have any.  A brand new Will!!!  My son immediately squealed on Will when we got to my house, told me Will had let him eat as much candy as he wanted during a sleep over while I was gone.  Good times.

Of course we immediately made plans to go hunting.

Now Will and I have had some tremendous hunts together. I really don’t know why the guy even liked hunting with me.  As in most of his activities Will was quiet, reserved and careful.  Always slow and methodical, taking his time to rest his gun, make the perfect shot.  I was always somewhat opposite.  Usually I got so excited each time we went hunting was like my first time hunting.  I was usually so animated and excited upon seeing the first deer of the hunt that I scared it away charging out of the truck like some crazed soldier making a bayonet charge.

We frequently got into arguments when I got sick of waiting for Will to carefully aim and shoot and just shot the deer myself.  One of his favorite lines was always “You know we’re not actually at war with the deer!” He made that one after I shot 4 deer before he had his rifle loaded, and shot the 5th as it started to disappear into the woods while Will was fumbling with his magazine. I still chuckle over that one. Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang and then a long pause as I patiently waited for Will to finally shoot and then Bang again. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t just getting even for fishing season because Will was a much better fisherman than me, and I never really caught many fish with him because I was always busy netting his salmon. (A task I always enjoyed)

I remember one day I wanted to use my flintlock black powder rifle, much to his dismay. Of course I missed the first deer, even though it was at close range.  Will had no shortage of sarcastic comments to make about it, including that he figures I didn’t actually miss because the deer would surely die of cancer from all the smoke that I made. Classic Will.

Well back to our last hunt.  It was the usual routine. Me making us late because I was fussing over the generator shed and busy making the perfect cup of coffee, which by the way Will would ruin by letting it get cold.  It drove me crazy that he drank his coffee nearly cold.

With the truck loaded with assortments of guns, chainsaws and snacks Will, Devaughn and I drove off to the back roads of Haida Gwaii in search of the little black tail deer.

Late February is not the most productive time to hunt.  We drove for several hours, down many roads.  Stopped a few times to cut some nice cedar logs for firewood and kindling.  We found one beautiful red cedar log blown over by the wind that we spent an hour cutting into pieces big enough to lift into the truck.  Will loved his chainsaw and the opportunity to cut wood.  We finally found our first deer.  High up on the mountainside close to the west coast and a considerable distance away.  I patiently waited for Will to make the shot, watching carefully beside him. In truth it was too far of a shot for my rifle or I surely would have gotten tired of waiting and shot it myself. The shot rang out, and it was a sure hit I saw the tail go down, heard the impact, confident all that was left to do was hike in and drag the deer out.

Well my son and I set off with Will watching from the vantage point on the road. It was a very difficult hike, over 100 yards of rough terrain and clear cut remains.  Arriving at the spot my son and I could smell the deer, but there was absolutely no sign of it.  We spent the next 3 hours looking for the deer with no luck.  Will was quite upset, as all hunters are with the loss of an injured animal. We finally decided to give up with heavy hearts left continuing hunting elsewhere. I said that it wouldn’t be a waste because the ravens and eagles are short on food this time of year but it was of little consolation to Will who shared an enormous respect for the animals we hunted.

We spent the rest of the afternoon with no luck, but on the drive home we passed the same spot as earlier and I spotted eagles in the trees near where Will had made the shot.  I told him to stop the truck, I was going to get out and head in and he should drive away and come back. I headed into the bush and hid beneath the trees, having scared the birds away I hoped they would return.  After 30 minutes an impatient Raven returned to circle overhead, and finally landed on a branch nearby, and carefully watching him I saw him jump down into the bush from his perch.

I shouted to Will and my son to come into the bush and after searching again for 30 minutes and running out of hope I found the deer.  It was about 2 meters from where Will had shot it, and killed it almost instantly. It had fallen downhill into a hole and the small bushes had sprung back up over it almost making it disappear.  We were all very happy to retrieve it, and my son and I dragged it from the woods to the truck with all 3 boys full of smiles.

We managed to get 2 more deer on the way home, with me making the shots.  All food for my family nothing goes to waste.  Will lamented that he had made all his ferry reservations and booked training down because he said had he known I was going to be home for March he would have stayed around.  I sure wish he did. That was our last hunt. I’ve shot a few bucks this season already, one shot kills, no drama, no animation just food for my family. I realise that the drama and animation came from just how much I enjoyed hunting and fishing with Will, and not actually the hunting itself. I know he’s gone.  But it’s just the time of the year that he’d be driving down the driveway on the ranch and part of me forgets the tragedy of his passing and still anticipates him pulling up for the next outdoor adventure.

I have sat down to type these words many times over the past few weeks but the words would not come.  I have read what everyone else wrote and every last word beautiful...eloquent...meaningful.  The problem is I don't want to sit here and write beautiful, eloquent words that mark the passing of a great life.  I want to go meet up at Solly's, grab a beer, eat some wings and you can tell me all about the close call you had a few weeks ago.  We will have a great time and laugh together like two friends who know they have the rest of time and then some.  Afterall, we are young.  And that is the next best thing to being immortal.

I'm sorry but I am not ready to say good bye to dog walks, BBQs on the deck, ski trips to Shames, late nights getting into trouble or early morning scones and coffee on the way to Massett.  I know we had left all of these things in the past anyway but I also know we had a promise of them in our future.  Tell me just one more story.  Heckle me just one more time.  Play with my son for a few more minutes.  Laugh just a little longer.

Above all else, please know that you are one of the most authentic, genuine persons I have ever met.  You have changed my small corner of the universe forever and I will miss you everyday until we meet again. 

Love,
Melissa




From Will's facebook:

Will had sent me this picture as he was taking the ferry over to Moresby Island and then was going to drive to Sandspit to pick up a generator. 
Here is the conversation that we had:


Will, "Gah.  Too early to be up" (Its 8:30am his time)

Sandra, "Haha.  Suck it up Princess" (Will's reply to this won't be repeated)

Will, "I need coffee"

Sandra, "Why didn't you take any along"

Will, "I made some.  Waiting for it to cool down a bit"

Will texts me the picture of the truck in front of him and then says, "I dont even get a nice view today"

Sandra, "Can't you get out and look around?  Look over the sides?"

Will, "Comfy and warm in here.  Misty and foggy outside.  I'll sit and drink my coffee"

Sandra, "Then don't complain about your view"    

Will, "I meant being stuck behind the guy with the plywood cap on his truck"
         
Sandra, "I know.  You could get out and look around but you want to sit in your truck and drink coffee instead."

Will, "Don't mock me before I've finished my coffee"

Sandra, "It's almost coffee time here for me"

Will, "Nice.  I'm going to lose cell service.  Have fun at work :)"

Sandra, "Watching bear videos with the fish cops :)"  (I swear I am really a hard working government worker!)

Will, "Way more fun than collecting and installing generators"


Later that evening....
             
Will, "I'm really tired.  I haven't been up at 7:30 in ages. lol" (It's 6:30pm his time)

Sandra, "It's tough getting up early"

Will, "I feel like you are making fun of me. lol"

Sandra, "A little. Haha"


I really miss these everyday conversations with Will.  Dearly treasured.       

Over the years I’ve logged many hours flying beside, behind or in front of Will. Always a steady hand and a truly professional aviator I always envied and respected his superior decision making abilities.

On one particularly calm and foggy morning I was determined to leave for Klemtu, since at the time we were paid for miles flown and I was leaving the next day for a big adventure in Ukraine.  Will, I am sure against his better judgement left with me, him in the old piston Otter bound for Hartely Bay, and me in the Beaver.

The entire way down the Grenville Channel we flew just above the water under a low stratus (fog) ceiling, with glassy water underneath.  Now the tricky thing about glassy water is it’s like a mirror, and you have no depth perception over it- a dangerous condition for a float plane. 

Will led the way, which I was glad for.  We talked between ourselves asking the standard questions of what we were doing there when we could be drinking coffee back in the office or at home with our lovely girlfriends.  My ridiculous answer was I needed the $75 for my vacation. (I’M older and somewhat wiser now, lessons learned from Will) But like the chugging rhythm of our radial engines we continued on.

Will turned left at the end of the channel, and I continued farther south through the narrow channels, under the fog, over the glassy water hoping not to meet the ferry or large fishing boat.  At the end of the day we both were drinking coffee back in Seal Cove, both of us telling each other we were idiots for doing what we did.  But I sort of knew that Will, having more experience than me, and being that kind of guy, had probably gone just to be my wingman.

I will never forget that trip, because it was February 28, 2005. The very day that a lone beaver left Campbell River, under the same conditions and never returned.

Living on the island had its ups and downs.  On the upside was the sea food available. Look at the size of those scallops!  I told Will we are lucky to get ones that are maybe the size of a toonie in land locked Alberta.  I made him promise he would save me some.  On the downside is the availability of fresh fruits and vegetables.  Will said he could always count on broccoli being available at the store.  He ate so much broccoli this past winter I told him he was going to turn green.  Then he has to put hot sauce on everything.  Gawd what a way to ruin a good meal. 

My brothers and I were very fortunate in our childhood to be able to travel as a family across Canada and experience so many wonderful things. These trips were a huge part of our lives and fundamental in our personal development as well as our appreciation for the outdoors. I was the baby of the family, so unfortunately when my brothers went off fishing; I was not always able to go with them. I wanted to though. What little girl wouldn’t want to follow her big brothers? I have one vivid memory of William during one of our trips out west. The family was packed into our van (Will and I in the back row seats, Matt in the middle – always. We rarely switched seats) when we had to stop because of a herd of buffalo on the road. I distinctly remember Will in his ‘no fear’ t-shirt leaning out of the van trying to get pictures of the buffalo as we carefully maneuvered through the herd. That was Will; he did not let fear get the better of him.

Will was 7 years older then me and no matter how old we got, he always saw me as the little 12 year old girl he left behind when he went to aviation school in 1996. During his time at school and after he would visit home every now and then but we didn’t really spend much time together until my wedding 10 years later. I remember him looking at me in my wedding dress and telling me how he couldn’t believe I was old enough to get married. That night we stayed up until 4am celebrating and laughing like it had only been days since we last saw each other, not years. 

Over the next several years, Will’s job and love for the outdoors and adventure would take him across Canada and away from us for extended periods of time. Looking back I wish we had been able to see him more often but he was doing what he loved and that is all that truly matters. Over the last few days our family has been overwhelmed by the amount of support and kind words that all his friends, co-workers and even strangers have said about him. I am not surprised that Will’s good natured sense of humor, his kindness, his honesty and his drive for life drew people to him. He was a one of a kind type of guy. He was fun to be around and was always good for a laugh.

Will only met his nephew once or twice when my son, Jaxson, was an infant. That was the last time we saw him and that was about 4.5 years ago. Despite the distance, Will always found a way to spoil my son. Every Christmas it would be a surprise to see what package would arrive at our doorstep. Three years ago a huge box showed up at our front door. My husband called me at work and asked if I knew anything about it. I had no clue what it could be. Will never told us when he was sending something; it would just show up. That particular year he sent a mini John Deere riding tractor with wagon. Jaxson immediately started riding it around our house. To this day Jaxson loves riding that tractor whenever he gets that chance. We have it stored at my parents’ country property and there is nothing he loves more then to ride it around the trails, especially through the woods, with the 3 family dogs following closely behind. Every time I see my son on that tractor, I always think how lucky he is to have such an amazing uncle. One of my most cherished photos I have is of my son on his tractor, next to his Papa on his matching tractor. It means the world to mean that William was, even though he was across the country, able to bring my son such happiness.

My brother was a wonderful person. He was kind, generous, funny and brave. He loved doing what he did for a living; being a pilot was more then just a job to him, it was part of who he was. He was a natural and that is how I am going to choose to remember him; flying high, smiling and at peace.

I love you Will.  

Will and I were friends from elementary school up through high school, and there are a lot of fond memories there (bowling nights with guys, shared classes, road hockey, him building his own pool out of chipboard and a tarp…and making it work). And it was really something after high school to see him start out on his adventures, and also being lucky enough to spend time with him on the road and up in Kenora for a summer.
In 2001 I tagged along on a road trip out west, starting in Guelph with Brody, picking up a couple of their friends along the way, and then finding Will in Kenora. I got to ride with Will in his Bronco for much of the trip, and saw first hand that resolute calmness he had, and the undercurrent of mischief and a sense of humour that made anything into a good story, whether it be the results of Shiloh eating half a family-sized block of cheese right before a drive through the mountains, or my getting us pulled over who-knows-where in the prairies in the middle of the night. Will was always the calm one, but also the first one to make a joke to take the edge off of whatever had happened. I also remember that the family he lived next door to in Thunder Bay as a student were more than happy to take us all in on the road, feed us, and give us a place to stay, which stood out then and now as a real testament, because if any college student can make the family next door like them that much, they must be doing a whole lot right.
The summer in Kenora was a fun one for sure. Will would come back from flying and calmly talk about his day, maybe while burning a tick off his leg from wherever he had wound up in the bush. He was also up for whatever little adventures you could have in town, including friends coming through, nights out, and the building of a catapult…which he made work. After that summer the stories kept coming, and I'd hear that Will was in Fiji, and then that he had gone back up north and then out west again. It was always great to reconnect with Will as he came and went following more and more adventures, and to pop over to someone's house as he came back through town and find him there, and to hear what he had been up to and where he was going. He was a real adventurer and amazing to know and to be friends with.My very sincere condolences go out to all of Will's family and friends, and everyone he knew. Miss you Will.

My parents Carl and Bertha Kitching, were friends with Ken and Rae Hilts.  We all lived on Riddell St. in Woodstoick    Ken and
l Carl taught High School together at
 WCI in Woodstock and the friendships continues for years,&after Ken Left teaching and had beautiful Home on Devonshire Rd.   When Stewart and Marilyn were little "folk" I was one of their babysitters .  Ken and Rae were so proud of their children. I last vsited Rae in Tavistock.  Ken was a true gentleman and well respected.

My condolences to all family members   At 85 years, I am well aware of the skills

and talents bestowed by   Ken and his love of the airforce
  Doris (Kitching) Baker 
 
 

Many moons ago a few years after we all graduated highschool, Beth Kuiper and I took a road trip to Yellowknife.  We had no idea that our good friend Will was there working flying for a float plane company.  Beth and I decided to do a fly-in canoe trip and were so suprised when our pilot ended up being none other then Will Hilts!  

What a thrill and honour to be with Will in his element.  An amazing pilot indeed!  He dropped us off on a tiny little island in the middle of a river a number of kilometres outside of Yellowknife.  We unloaded our gear, said our goodbyes and then Will took off. Sure enough one of us had to use the 'facilities' on the small treeless island just as Will surprised us with a fly-over and a tip of the wing.  I am sure he got a good chuckle out of that...we sure did.  Thanks Will, I will always remember that flight.  

My condolences to his family and loved ones. Will taught us all a lesson in perservence and how to pursue a dream.  

       My earliest memories of fishing with Will are from a little stocked pond outside of Woodstock, On. Our grandfather, Ken Hilts, taught us to fish in his friends pond. We fished for rainbow trout, first with a big red and white bobber and worms, later with Mepps spinners. We spent hours fishing that tiny pond every summer and a trip to see the grandparents just wasn't complete without a visit.


Later, I remember trying to ice fish at the Potter's cottage on Sand Lake. Our dad's had chopped holes through the ice using an axe. We sat for hours and never caught a thing.

During the summer at Sand Lake I remember Will had been out fishing the tiny stream that ran by the cottage. He must have only been about 12, because I was young enough I wasn't allowed to go with him as it was raining. He came running back to the cottage carrying only his tacklebox. He had caught the most beautiful little fish and had no idea what it was. It was a Brook trout or a Speckled trout depending on the province you are in. He had emptied his tackle box on the shore, filled it with water and run back to the house to show it off. I remember the photo that was taken, Will in his yellow raincoat, standing in the rain, offering his open tackle box up for the photo, like it was a gift. I realize now that it was. After the photo, he ran back to the stream to release it.

We fished. We fished the Pacific for salmon, we jigged the Atlantic for cod. Grayling in the Yukon, Cutthroats in British Columbia and Alberta. The Kispiox, the Lakelse, countless unnamed roadside creeks between here and there. We spend years fly fishing any trout stream that was within driving distance of Guelph, where we grew up. We even stocked our own little trout pond.

Eventually, Will grew up (physically at least) and headed off to flight school. We saw each other less and less as our own lives took shape. I did make it out west to see him, when he had the small apartment in Prince Rupert, probably 2001 or so. And we fished.


Will and I didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. He was a couple years older and a couple inches taller. It was his god given right as a big brother to look down on me and he let me know it in no uncertain terms.


No matter what the circumstance, no matter how much time had passed, when we had lines on the water, we were ok. That was the place where we felt most like brothers.


I wish we had more time. We should have fished more. Tight lines Will.


Matt               

I try to make a happy start to the kids day, and I normally play some positive music while cooking breakfast getting them ready to meet the schools bus.  Sometimes I even sing along.  On one particular early morning I was singing along quite happily and loudly to some old time gospel blue grass music while Will was enjoying a lay down on “his” couch by the fire place.

Will “You know who does a really good job of that song?”

Brad “No I’m surprised you know it. Who?”

Will “Anyone but you!”

Classic Will. Pure, intelligent and spontaneous sarcasm. I’ll miss you dear friend.

Willy Hilts.  I have so many memories of Will which is impressive considering how poor my memory is!  He was that kind of guy.
Will was with me when we went on our first distant non-family camping trip when we were 15 or so.  Some number of us loaded in to the Berry family van (I like to think it was the Caravan affectionately known as Rambo, although I'm not actually sure) and headed off on our first adventure together.  I guess we were sixteen...
Years later we were still eager to take on the world so Will, Mike and I set out to drive across the country.  At the end of high school we decided that we needed to see as much of Canada as possible and for some reason my dad thought we should take his brand new car to do it!?  Being the smart young men we were we jumped on the opportunity and drove off in to the sunset...at the speed limit of course.  Our gnome friend Liam came along for the ride as well.
We did so well on that trip that Will was recruited to the A squad for the biggest trip yet.  Jan, Jenny, Will and I purchased an Isuzu Trooper for $700 in 1999, cut the roof out of it just before Christmas and crammed it with all that we thought we would need for the next few months and set out with the final destination being Costa Rica.  A convoy drove with us to the desert in Arizona where we celebrated the millenium new year in style (inappropriate pictures witheld).  An unbelievable group of people.  An all-star team of unemployed twenty somethings if there ever was one!!
Once we pulled ourselves together we were back on the road and headed south.  I won't go on with every detail of the trip as I'm sure at some point I will reach a character limit in this little box.  Wait for the book. 
I would like to mention that a flock of feasting vultures does not leave the ground quite as quickly as Will would estimate and if you see his camera that was stolen from our roofless truck in Haco, let me know.  There are some good pitures on there!  
We lost some money in a shady land deal, we jumped off some waterfalls, we bribed our way out of several military checkpoints, we slept on some beaches, we climbed volcanoes in cloud forests, we helped save baby sloths in a crazy ladie's wicker basket, we surfed (sort of) and in the end we had the trip of a lifetime!
Will has been with me through so many life experiences it really is tough to take in what we have all lost.
To the Hilts family, our thoughts are with you through this incredibly difficult time.  I am by no means an expert in relationships but I do consider myself to be a good judge of character and I know that you raised an incredible man!
He died trying to make a difference.  Bravery is a lacking attribute in many these days.  I am proud to have known Will so well and I am fortunate to have had him by my side through so many life changing events.
We'll miss you buddy!!!!!


 

 Swanky night out in the big city with friends. Lots of laughter, good food and memories made. 

We lived next door to the Hilts family in Guelph during the years that all of our children were born. Young Will - William, as he was then - was part of a 'gang of three' with our daughter Andrea and Nicholas from across the street.

We have such good memories of those early days:

  *  using both backyards for a  play area for imaginative forts and castles,

  *  going down the snow slide on the little hill in the winter,

  *  making Graham Cracker houses at Christmas time,

  *  the day that our daughter gave Will a haircut in a classic four year-old style,

  * and that momentous occasion in grade three when Will and Nicholas came to Andrea's birthday all spruced up...because they knew all the other attendees would be girls!

.Our hearts go out to all the family in the tragic loss of such a happy and courageous spirit.

Will hambing it up with his Grandfathers R.C.A.F. hat and pipe along with a Mae West I found in Ball Lake..He'd be flying this Beaver by the 1999 season and heading way up North...

Will hambing it up with his Grandfathers R.C.A.F. hat and pipe along with a Mae West I found in Ball Lake..He'd be flying this Beaver by the 1999 season and heading way up North...

Wills first paying ride, the Buck 85 ...

Wills first paying ride, the Buck 85 ...

Will with Norm Wright ( Stormin Normin)

Will with Norm Wright ( Stormin Normin)

Hambing it up with Kuby...Owner of Kenora Air. Kuby sadly passed away, the day after Will on Saturday morning...

Hanging out in the trailer across form the Kenora Air Hanger with Greg Potvin and Kuby having some laughs. It was Wills first flying job, Will was a natural stick & rudder pilot, very gifted.

Striking the "Bird Wonder"..

Striking the "Bird Wonder"..

Will alongside me, we snapped some photos of each other, North of Bissett Manitoba.

Will alongside me, we snapped some photos of each other, North of Bissett Manitoba.

There are so many stories I’d like to share that I don’t know where to start.  But one of our greatest memories will always be the family camping trips we took with all our three children when they were young.  We travelled across Canada five times over ten years, 3 times westward and 2 times east.  Those trips were what introduced William to the mountains.   We camped in Banff, Jasper and Kicking Horse Pass near Field in 1986, the BC Centennial and we were there for July 1st.  You haven’t heard fireworks until you’ve been in Field down between the four mountains!  The noise was incredible.  We drove the Icefields Parkway and hiked up into the alpine, we saw the glaciers, the wildlife and the scenery.  At Lake Louise Will and his brother Matt (age 9 and 6) pushed their sister Kate (age 2) up the trail to the Lake Agnes Teahouse and from there up to the top of the Beehive, in her stroller!  At Pacific Rim we walked the beach and saw starfish and all the other creatures of the ocean shore.

On later trips the boys fished for cod and caplin in Newfoundland.  Will gleefully sliced the heads off dozens of caplin before we had them for supper.  We went whale watching off Newfoundland and off Telegraph Cove in BC.  On the trip to Alaska and the Yukon we camped at Elk Island, east of Edmonton, and saw the buffalo, up close and personal!  We caught more salmon in Alaska than we knew what to do with.  We arrived in Prince Rupert once on the ferry from the south, and later on the ferry from the north, and drove the highway past the Hazeltons, stopping to fish in the Kispiox River. 

It was on the trip to Alaska that we saw a forest fire up close in northern BC, with water bombers in the air fighting the fire.   Although he didn’t tell us at the time, we think that was when he decided that his goal was to fly a water bomber.  He devoted his entire flying career to getting there, and died doing what he loved.  He had an adventurous life, and I like to think that our effort in going on those camping trips helped give him the love of BC, the north, and the mountains.  We are so thrilled to know he found so many good friends there.

I live completely off the grid. This lifestyle is difficult and completely dependant on the sun for it's life giving energy. You end up living day by day from the rise and fall of the sun. Saving power is always easier than making it.

On sunny days I'd always be busy charging batteries and baking bread. I learned baking from my dear grandmother who raised me as a child,  and I don't mind bragging I learned from the best. The smell of the fresh bread was always too much for Will to resist and he'd frequently leave the couch by the fireplace to take a small piece, always under my watchful eyes. After many trips to the kitchen for a small piece I would always say "Aren't you supposed to not be eating that?" to which Will always had a predictable and expected reply consisting of a combination of words I won't post, or when he was more cheerful "What are you my mother?"

Well the night always ended the same way, with me in bed counting the toilet flushes and thinking oh well I'll have to run the generator in the morning, always with a proud smile because my bread was so good and Will was gluten intolerant.

When I think about even regular daily mundane activities there is nothing that doesn't remind me of my dearest friend, and no matter what I do he'll always be there in my mind. Rest in peace dear friend. Until that time we meet again.

My son Brad and Will were best friends and fellow pilots. Will loved Haida Gwii and when fire season ended he would come here and stayed at Brads until his rental accommodations were available. Will ,Brad, and I like good scotch whiskey and he picked up a Glenmorange,my favourite,while in Masset . When we got back to Tlell my wife Margaret picked up the grocery bags and headed into the house, part way there she had the bags slip and one hit the garage floor. Scotch everywhere!!! When Will came in we told him what had happened, he didn't believe her at first and finally with a big grin on his face he said how come you saved the bag with the pie . We all had a good laugh. The next day we had it replaced by the store at no cost . My next bottle of scotch will be a Glenmorange and it will be in his memory.

.