William (Bill) Gibbs was born December 21, 1928, the son of Verna (Syx) & William Gibbs, Sr. of Athens County, Ohio. He was mostly raised by his paternal grandparents of Nelsonville, Athens County, Ohio. He and I often discussed the trait that seemed prevalent in his family, that of the females being so readily able to give up on their children. He never married, and was a U.S. Army veteran. Bill spent most of his life in Ohio, but moved to California in the late 50's. He retired from the U.S. Postoffice. He was a wonderful son to his mother and took care of her after she was diagnosed with alzheimers disease, with no help or support from his siblings. His one sister Verna Dean who lived in Florida did help until she too became ill and was having husband trouble. Bill said he would put his mother's favorite music on the player and set her in her rocking chair while he ran his errands. As long as the music played, she would sit in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, and that was where he would find her when he returned. Bill had the music timed perfectly for his errands. Many times when she was lucid, he would put her on the phone so that I could speak with her. We were able to reminisce for awhile until she forgot who she was talking to. His mother and father divorced very early in Bill's life. His mother remarried to a man by the name of Harold Evans of Dayton, Ohio. Harold was never a father figure for Bill so he didn't have much of a role model except for his paternal grandfather, Ambrose Gibbs. He and his Uncle Kenny (my husband) were inseparable during their teenage years even though Bill was a year older than Kenny. We all doubled dated continually, he and Jeanne Duckro along with Kenny and myself. They both quit school before finishing the 9th grade, Bill to join the army and Kenny to get a job to help his mother (she was also Bill's maternal grandmother) who was quite ill with diabetes and on her own with nothing but a part-time job. Her other children helped as much as possible, and were very good to their mother, but they all had families of their own to think of. When Bill got out of the army in 1948, he and Kenny took up where they had left off. Bill was there to help celebrate the births of Kenny's children in 1949, '52' & '54, and celebrate they did!! By the time Kenny's 4th son came along in '58, Bill was in California, but he still celebrated. Bill's main goal in life was to "play" the horses and visit Vegas to play the slots. He was a great story teller. He could entertain for hours with his embellishment of real-life experiences and made-up tales. His listeners could never tell if he was telling the truth or not. Sometimes I think Bill got so involved in the story-telling that he thought he lived it also. I have a wonderful story he had printed up called "A Friday Night In Tia Juana - 1971" that can keep the reader laughing for hours on end. He truly missed his calling. He could have been a great story writer like some of our other family members. My children were always very fond of Bill. Karen, Jack and Brian would meet him in Vegas and they would return home with great memories of Bill to last a life-time. He developed prostate cancer about 4 years before his death, which occurred on July 6, 2008. He was embraced by his adopted family whom he always referred to as his daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. They cared for him during his final days and we, his family owe them a great deal of gratitude. They were such a comfort to him. When I spoke to him in June, he was going to try to make it to Vegas to meet my family who were going there for my grandson Casey Johnson's wedding on June 29, 2008. That was Bill, always ready to go to Vegas at the drop-of-a-hat. The last I spoke to him the doctor had just left and we both knew Bill wouldn't be meeting my family in Vegas and that he didn't have long for this world, but he was still upbeat and joking as usual. He said he had a good run and was ready to go, and we were able to say our tearful goodbyes to each other. He passed away just a few days later. I will honor and remember him always as the truly wonderful and funny guy I first met at age 14. At that time he was carrying a pair of pliers in his pocket to zip and unzip his pants when he visited the restroom at Skateland, because his zipper was broken. That gave all of us teens something to laugh about and that was what Billy was all about. I'm sure that wherever he and Kenny are, they are still celebrating every event, as we go about our lives, even in their absence.