Tribute to Bill.  Bill was in my homeroom for all 4 years.  Bill was a very quiet guy always with a wry smile as if something was about to explode, and there was some truth to the exploding part.  Sometime shortly after Christmas, Bill began experimenting with his new chemistry set, and one evening concocked an explosive device.  I don't know the details of how or why the thing exploded, but it blew a large hole in Bill's brick bedroom wall.  Bill lived on a corner lot and I remember seeing large sheets of plastic covering the hole on the second floor until repairs could be made.  There was also the Mt. Lebanon Park incident.  On a snowy winter night, a bunch of us were sledding and tobogganing on the slopes across from the REC and pool.  At the end of the evening most of us were wet and cold as we gathered at an old picnic bench that had seen better days, then someone suggested we build a fire.  There was an old 55 gallon drum to serve as our hearth. The only fuel were some old 2" planks from the busted up picnic bench, and try as we might with matches and lighters, we couldn't get the wet wood to burn.  Dah! Bill watched our feeble attempts to light the planks, then slipped away only to return a short time later.  With nary a word, he sprinkled some chemical on the wet wood, and with a muffled wooof, instant bonfire.  Bill was the hero that night.  Typical Bill, he didn't say a word, just that shy grin, like he knew all along he had the accelerant that would burn wet wood.  Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with matches (ie explosive devices). A cold night, warm memories.  Be at rest, Bill Cliff

Bill was a homeroom mate for 4 years.  He was captivated by science and those who took the time to get to know him knew that deep inside he was a rascal and full of fun. One vivid memory of Bill that I may have mentioned previously is once before a test, in math or science I believe, Bill got to the classroom early, before the teacher, and wrote the key formulas needed to perform on the test between the lines of sentences already written on the board earlier that day from a previous class, unrelated to our class and test, earlier that day.  So, throughout the test heads kept tilting to the left to access the formulas.  The teacher never caught on.  Bill was a hero that day. Rest in Peace, Bill George Watt