Thank you, first of all, to Jim, for letting me and Jane be guests on your website so I can post this remembrance of my father, and your former classmate, Bill Vinson. I am his only daughter, Ashley, and I've lived in the Netherlands for the past 13 years. I loved the hell out of my dad. And for those of you that knew my father, he was a man of jokes and witty remarks, and I hope that my post that I wrote for him below reflects that sensibility, as my dad really raised me to always work hard to make people laugh (and/or close the deal ;)). If any of you have any stories about him, I'd love to hear them (I think the statute of limitations is in effect now for many of the hijinks he did - such as breaking into a trampoline center.)
My lovely dad passed away in Santa Rosa, California, on Friday, September 13th. (Seriously Dad? Friday the 13th?!)
He left behind his wife Jane, his very spoiled cat, Tina, and worst of all, he left me behind.
My dad really loved the reunions and talks with his former high school classmates, and took great joy and pride in having gone to Sunset High School in Beaverton, Oregon.
My Dad loved baseball, Elvis & The Beach Boys. He also loved cars, stand-up comedy, original Doritos, and The Ladies (though for the past almost 30 years, he has had only eyes for Jane).
Born in Washington State, he grew up with many of you in Beaverton, Oregon, in a beautiful neighborhood playing baseball, playing tennis, and playing pranks.
My Dad would often regale me with stories of his youth. Slicking back his jet-black hair, he delighted in mischief and mayhem even telling one story about how he and his high school friends faked a murder in front of his high school principal (this could be its own post - maybe some of you were involved?!).
My dad used to brag about having attended "MIT" right out of high school - aka "Multnomah (Junior College) In Town" ;) My Dad also went to college for a couple of years at Oregon State University (Go Beavers!) and was a college State Champ in tennis. On a whim with some friends, after his second year, Dad left college and moved to Hawaii. He shared a one-bedroom apartment with three other guys for almost a year. Instead of working, the friends surfed, lived mostly on stolen pineapples, and were frequently chased-off by the local guys for chasing the local girls.
Broke and exhausted by his year in Hawaii, my Dad moved to California where he studied new computer technology and became a computer operator. He went to work for a food broker in the San Francisco financial district where he met my Mom, a secretary at the same company. They married, bought their first house in Marin County, and had me a couple of years later. They separated when I was six.
My Dad stayed in the computer industry in California and became a computer salesperson for companies such as Sperry Univac, Unisys, and Fujitsu. He remained a sales guy for the rest of his life selling various products for a diverse group of companies (including selling energy at Enron!). He lived by the tried-and-true ABCs: “Always Be Closing”.
Post-divorce, my dad had a series of sports cars, lived for years in a notorious "singles" apartment complex, and even got hair transplants - for which was able to negotiate a discount by agreeing to do radio and print ads for the hair doctor. (I guess this makes my dad a former model?)
He loved to return to Oregon to visit, even moving back for 8 years, before returning to California. When I was in Oregon with him, he'd show me (again) his paper route, the restaurant where he had his first "real job" as a valet parking cars, and of course, the secret spot where he used to take his girlfriend(s) for “necking” (which is now the main entrance to the Nike campus).
As a father, he raised me to be strong, independent, and frankly, a bit mouthy. My Dad's praise for me was never tied to anything trivial such as academic performance but instead was only given when I was able to really land a good joke.
He required that anytime I wanted something from him, I had to open with a benefit statement and always ask for the sale (I was able to secure many Barbies using this methodology). My Dad's humor was mixed with a very large dose of directness, preparing me well for a life in Amsterdam with Dutchies who, like my Father, never mince words.
My Dad never held me to any standards of what a woman "should be". He taught me about cars, baseball, and all sorts of topics that usually were reserved for sons. He never pushed or guilted me to get married or have kids, though at one point he did offer me a large screen TV if I had just one child.
In his late 40’s, he moved to a proper home and acquired two cats. In his early 50’s, he married Jane, hands-down the best sales close he ever made. As he even would admit, he was able to marry way above his station, landing a woman who adored him and made him not only a better man, but a better father to me. Jane created a home and life for him that brought him much joy during the past 30 years. Jane was a loving wife (and loving stepmom!) who always took extraordinary care of my Dad.
In the past year, though his health was failing, tired from having lymphoma and a series of other health issues, he never lost his sense of humor and irony.
One of his last Christmas gifts to me was the classic red "MAGA" baseball hat (for which I still need to find the right outfit). We never agreed on politics, but we were able to find a shared system of beliefs, including believing that any joke that involved a butt was a good joke.
My Dad was my protector, my confidant, my best audience, and someone I loved beyond reason. I will miss him deeply.
In honor of his memory, I ask that you play a strong round of tennis, tell a great joke, and of course, always be closing.
Ashley, that was a beautiful tribute to your dad. Thanks because it made me laugh in places and remember what a great guy he was. My husband, Steve Thomson, and I had lunch with him on one of our last visits to Oregon. After he relocated to California, he tried to talk us into moving up where he and Jane lived.
I only know your dad in high school, but Steve remembers him from grade school! We, too, are very sad he is gone. Blessings to you,
Bill was the driving force behind our very successful 50th reunion and in implementing our class website. He has been the "glue" that has kept us all connected over the many years years since. Our friendship grew stronger in recent years aworking on the Class of 1961 Scholarship Fund at Sunset to benefit future graduates. I am grateful for those times and being a part of Bill's legacy. I will miss him! Jim Kotchik
Ashley Vinson (Vinson)
In Memory of My Dad, Bill Vinson
Hello All,
Thank you, first of all, to Jim, for letting me and Jane be guests on your website so I can post this remembrance of my father, and your former classmate, Bill Vinson. I am his only daughter, Ashley, and I've lived in the Netherlands for the past 13 years. I loved the hell out of my dad. And for those of you that knew my father, he was a man of jokes and witty remarks, and I hope that my post that I wrote for him below reflects that sensibility, as my dad really raised me to always work hard to make people laugh (and/or close the deal ;)). If any of you have any stories about him, I'd love to hear them (I think the statute of limitations is in effect now for many of the hijinks he did - such as breaking into a trampoline center.)
My lovely dad passed away in Santa Rosa, California, on Friday, September 13th. (Seriously Dad? Friday the 13th?!)
He left behind his wife Jane, his very spoiled cat, Tina, and worst of all, he left me behind.
My dad really loved the reunions and talks with his former high school classmates, and took great joy and pride in having gone to Sunset High School in Beaverton, Oregon.
My Dad loved baseball, Elvis & The Beach Boys. He also loved cars, stand-up comedy, original Doritos, and The Ladies (though for the past almost 30 years, he has had only eyes for Jane).
Born in Washington State, he grew up with many of you in Beaverton, Oregon, in a beautiful neighborhood playing baseball, playing tennis, and playing pranks.
My Dad would often regale me with stories of his youth. Slicking back his jet-black hair, he delighted in mischief and mayhem even telling one story about how he and his high school friends faked a murder in front of his high school principal (this could be its own post - maybe some of you were involved?!).
My dad used to brag about having attended "MIT" right out of high school - aka "Multnomah (Junior College) In Town" ;) My Dad also went to college for a couple of years at Oregon State University (Go Beavers!) and was a college State Champ in tennis. On a whim with some friends, after his second year, Dad left college and moved to Hawaii. He shared a one-bedroom apartment with three other guys for almost a year. Instead of working, the friends surfed, lived mostly on stolen pineapples, and were frequently chased-off by the local guys for chasing the local girls.
Broke and exhausted by his year in Hawaii, my Dad moved to California where he studied new computer technology and became a computer operator. He went to work for a food broker in the San Francisco financial district where he met my Mom, a secretary at the same company. They married, bought their first house in Marin County, and had me a couple of years later. They separated when I was six.
My Dad stayed in the computer industry in California and became a computer salesperson for companies such as Sperry Univac, Unisys, and Fujitsu. He remained a sales guy for the rest of his life selling various products for a diverse group of companies (including selling energy at Enron!). He lived by the tried-and-true ABCs: “Always Be Closing”.
Post-divorce, my dad had a series of sports cars, lived for years in a notorious "singles" apartment complex, and even got hair transplants - for which was able to negotiate a discount by agreeing to do radio and print ads for the hair doctor. (I guess this makes my dad a former model?)
He loved to return to Oregon to visit, even moving back for 8 years, before returning to California. When I was in Oregon with him, he'd show me (again) his paper route, the restaurant where he had his first "real job" as a valet parking cars, and of course, the secret spot where he used to take his girlfriend(s) for “necking” (which is now the main entrance to the Nike campus).
As a father, he raised me to be strong, independent, and frankly, a bit mouthy. My Dad's praise for me was never tied to anything trivial such as academic performance but instead was only given when I was able to really land a good joke.
He required that anytime I wanted something from him, I had to open with a benefit statement and always ask for the sale (I was able to secure many Barbies using this methodology). My Dad's humor was mixed with a very large dose of directness, preparing me well for a life in Amsterdam with Dutchies who, like my Father, never mince words.
My Dad never held me to any standards of what a woman "should be". He taught me about cars, baseball, and all sorts of topics that usually were reserved for sons. He never pushed or guilted me to get married or have kids, though at one point he did offer me a large screen TV if I had just one child.
In his late 40’s, he moved to a proper home and acquired two cats. In his early 50’s, he married Jane, hands-down the best sales close he ever made. As he even would admit, he was able to marry way above his station, landing a woman who adored him and made him not only a better man, but a better father to me. Jane created a home and life for him that brought him much joy during the past 30 years. Jane was a loving wife (and loving stepmom!) who always took extraordinary care of my Dad.
In the past year, though his health was failing, tired from having lymphoma and a series of other health issues, he never lost his sense of humor and irony.
One of his last Christmas gifts to me was the classic red "MAGA" baseball hat (for which I still need to find the right outfit). We never agreed on politics, but we were able to find a shared system of beliefs, including believing that any joke that involved a butt was a good joke.
My Dad was my protector, my confidant, my best audience, and someone I loved beyond reason. I will miss him deeply.
In honor of his memory, I ask that you play a strong round of tennis, tell a great joke, and of course, always be closing.
I love you, Dad. I am so sad you are gone.
Judy Clark (Thomson)
Ashley, that was a beautiful tribute to your dad. Thanks because it made me laugh in places and remember what a great guy he was. My husband, Steve Thomson, and I had lunch with him on one of our last visits to Oregon. After he relocated to California, he tried to talk us into moving up where he and Jane lived.
I only know your dad in high school, but Steve remembers him from grade school! We, too, are very sad he is gone. Blessings to you,
Judy Clark Thomson
Jim Kotchik
Bill was the driving force behind our very successful 50th reunion and in implementing our class website. He has been the "glue" that has kept us all connected over the many years years since. Our friendship grew stronger in recent years aworking on the Class of 1961 Scholarship Fund at Sunset to benefit future graduates. I am grateful for those times and being a part of Bill's legacy. I will miss him! Jim Kotchik