Gone but not forgotten

William Gerhardt Anton Heydenreich.
Now that is a double-barreled name. (Or vierling, in this case.)
A high school chum (and when was the last time you heard that word used) of my father's, he was on my mind this morning when I woke up.
I remember visits to his house when I was a child (including the famous time when my mother fell on me, taking us both down a long flight of stairs), but it was when he came out and lived with us in California (I would have been in late grade school at that point) that my memories of him really solidify.
He was a lot of things— an alcoholic, a notorious liar (my father always used to say "when Bill takes off his glasses, every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie until he puts them back on"), and a bad businessman (if he didn't go bankrupt, he should have)— but he was also a good friend to a young man, and I loved him.
He helped me build a very complicated, hand-designed and -built custom balsa wood and tissue glider (about a four-foot wingspan, as I recall) that actually flew.
He stayed in our back bedroom for several years (to the chagrin of my mother, as I recall, who didn't love him the way my father did), and then discovered Synanon. Though they were famous for dealing with drug addicts, they were founded by an alcoholic. My father and I attended 'guest' sessions at their massive facility in Oakland for awhile, but Bill actually moved in and 'got with the program'. The truth sessions that they conducted were hard, especially on the little white kids like me who 'dropped in' on what were, to the residents, very serious life-saving work, but I'm glad I went. You learned, fast, how to defend yourself in verbal confrontations, and how to analyze your 'opponent'. An interesting process, developed by its founder "Chuck" Dederich. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synanon for details: "with its emphasis on living a self-examined life, as aided by group truth-telling sessions known as the Synanon Game" plus "Synanon began as a two-year residential program, but Dederich soon concluded that, because full recovery was never possible, members could never graduate" plus "The 'Game' could be considered a therapeutic tool, likened to group therapy; or a social control, in which members humiliated one another and encouraged the exposure of one's innermost weaknesses, or both")
About that time I went off to college.
By the time I got back, Bill had fallen off the radar.
Eventually, I decided we needed to find him.
My father and I conducted some recon, and discovered that he'd ended up dropping out of Synanon and moving to the Sacramento area. Don't remember the exact situation, but there was a woman involved, as I recall.
Unfortunately, by the time we found him, he was gone.
As in dead.
If he'd lived, he'd be about 78 now, just like my father.
Wherever he is, I hope he's happy. He deserved that.
I remember him fondly.
Goodnight, Bill. Thanks for the memories.