Freddy and Rozie Kelly are very sad to inform you that, on April 27th, our lovely dad, Bill, died after a short stay in hospital.
Please join us to honour his memory by leaving reflections and memories on this website. We are really keen for this to be a happy, celebratory space, so any funny or silly memories you have of Bill’s shenanigans would be wonderful.
We would love it if people could also email any photos they may have to pictures@wfmkelly.co.uk and pass on these details to all those who knew Dad. When current restrictions are lifted, we will throw a proper celebration of Bill’s life with you all and many drinks will be raised in his memory, but, for the moment, this will help a lot. We are hoping this can be a place for us to become connected with those he has made smile from all corners of his life. Thank you.
53 entries.
Dear Bill my dear friend
On this morning of Nov 6th I wanted to say hello and tell you that I often think of you. I have your tweets on my twitter account that cheer me up always. I hope you have a golf course close to where you are and that you meet Sean Connery for a round of golf.
Sorry it's taken me a while, Bill. Sometimes it's hard to fit feelings into words.
Even though we hadn't seen each other for years, you were still a part of my life; checking in on me, making me laugh, extending your loving concern that apparently knew no bounds. Like you were my own virtual cheerleader.
I think I took for granted hearing from you, Bill, thinking that you'd somehow always be there. I hope you know how much I appreciated you. That you took the time to care.
I'll always remember the way you twinkled, your mischeivious adversity to decorum and the pride you held for your children that shone brighter than the sun. Thank you for including me in the love you had to give.
Bye Bill, I'll miss you xx
I worked for Bill over twenty years ago as a rookie Account Director. Although I only worked for him for two years, I have fond memories of him as a boss who cared and wanted me to succeed. I took over his most treasured account, Coca-Cola. As part of the transition, Bill “had” to accompany me on many business trips, usually to locations which involved business class flights and five star hotels. Ah the joy of learning the ropes from a seasoned executive - the man who put the “Bon” in Bon Vivant. The stories are legion. I remember dining at La Coupole in Paris, one of his personal favourites, where he insisted on ordering a glass of champagne whilst waiting for the red wine (Chateauneuf du Pape, natch!) to breathe. On another occasion, we went to Istanbul where we arrived in time for lunch at the Ciragan Palace Kempinski hotel, which had been modelled on the palace at Versailles. Bill insisted on ordering a bottle of Chablis as it was rather warm and we “needed” something to quench our thirst. He was chuckling with delight as he told me that he had just been given a major upgrade to a suite as his room had a used ashtray in it and he called Reception, not to complain, but to politely request that it be removed. He had a beguiling combination of Irish charm and a killer sense of humour. The standing joke was that he never left home without a cling film- wrapped used ashtray in his suitcase to guarantee an upgrade. Suffice to say, he left an indelible impression on me.
Bill was immensely proud of his family and was always talking about what he was doing at the weekend with Rozie and Freddy. He doted on them and lavished them with time and attention. It was the period when Rozie had her hair braided and I was always hearing about the time and money it cost to maintain them. He didn’t begrudge it at all, he was simply in admiration that she had the patience to sit and have it done.
Thank you, dear Bill, may you rest in peace.
I miss his dad jokes. His silly humour. His memes. His witty retorts. I miss FIL.
I only met Bill a couple of times, and I will always remember him as the most charming, flirtatious gentleman. He came to my wedding. (My husband Ralph worked for him.) And, Bill really charmed my Aunt (who was single). Anyway, when Ralph passed away many years later, I informed Bill, and Bill sent the sweetest condolence note. He was so nice. I wish I got to know him better. Anyway, I am imagining that Ralph and Bill have gotten together now and are sharing several fine bottles of wine up in heaven while talking about cars.
I remember Bill taking me and Rozie in his swanky car to his health club. I had never seen anything like that before and felt like there was a whole world of secret health clubs that had been hidden from me! I can't say I've been anywhere similar since either, but at least now I know where all the businessmen hide out. Another time he took us to Bristol to see Rozie's stepsister and gave us a budget to spend on *anything we wanted* in Debenhams. Twenty pounds on an odd furry pale blue bodywarmer! My goodness, I'd never been allowed to do that before either... I thought he must be the most generous man alive. Either that or bonkers for letting pre-teen girls spend his money. I bloody loved that furry bodywarmer.
Driving games: slowing down until the car behind was sitting on his bumper getting very cross and frustrated, then changing down a gear, putting his foot down and disappearing over the horizon; when it was dark and a car coming the other way was slow to dim its headlights, waiting until it was almost upon us but not yet past, then putting on main beam to dazzle the other driver when it was too late for them to retaliate.
I remember driving in convoy once, each in our own car. We reached a very busy roundabout at rush hour. Bill was in front and he moved forward onto the roundabout. I was busily checking the traffic from the right to follow after him and didn't notice that he had changed his mind and stopped so I smashed into the back of his car. We drove on past the roundabout and pulled off onto the verge, closely followed by a would-be witness who was keen to tell Bill how he'd seen it all and it was my fault. He couldn't understand why he found Bill doubled up, laughing.
I worked for Bill for a few years in the late 1990’s and I remember someone who loved the good life, and was always keen to get on with it, whatever the “it” was , from getting a work project complete to finishing a bottle of fine wine. We were in an international sales group, working for Avaya, and he always was calling group meetings in an exotic location such as Rome or Paris. Life was never boring. One of the "old school" gentlemen: he will be missed.
The 80’s at Prime Computer was a special period full of great people in the prime of their lives and Bill epitomised the smart, humours and clever culture with his infectious smile that you always knew was hiding devious thoughts. It’s sad that we had to pass company and go our individual ways but such memories that he enriched stay forever. Rest peacefully my friend. Denis
Sad news and I send my prayers and thoughts to Bill’s family.
I met Bill when he was at Spanlink and we had many a fun filled evening when he came over to Belfast for meetings and we enjoyed a few too many drinks together sharing stories, laughs and just good old craic.
I came across the following quote and it made me think of Bill:
“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Bill made me smile. Bill made me think. Bill made me happy. Bill made me feel I was with a true gentleman and could learn a lot from him. Most of all Bill made me feel good about life.
What a man.
Slainte mo chara
“First gear, second gear, third gear... get the hell out of my way gear!”
I miss the miniature cans of Diet Coke dad used to buy me when staying at Rose Cottage. I miss the way I always felt understood and accepted even during my most awkward and miserable teenage years, as dad still thought I was magical no matter how much eyeliner I wore or how rude I was. I miss fighting over the remote with Freddy before being called into the kitchen for the aforementioned ‘pasta hats’ or macaroni and cheese which I’d cover with brown sauce. Dad used to take me clothes shopping and let me spend far too much money, because I think he understood how important that stuff felt to me at the time. I cannot believe it’s been three weeks since I heard him say ‘Rosebuddy’ or ‘little one’, I miss our chats so much.
The many trips up and down the M40 to London so that I could go and tinker with servers in data centres or endlessly browse Tottenham Court Road (yes, I was a computer geek from a young age). The times you'd "borrow" the overhead projector from the office so that we could play presentations in the office at Rose Cottage. The hours and hours we spent watching back to back episodes of American Chopper and you would continuously do (very bad) American accented impressions. Bill's Sunday roasts with mounds of cauliflower cheese and roast potatoes or your weekday special of pasta hats (Tortellini) with an entire jar of green pesto. The daily race to watch an episode of Friends together before breaking every road traffic law to get to school on time. The friendly wave through the office window in the middle of a conference call marathon. My first fish-and-chip-shop chip butty and the look on mum's face as you fed it to me long past my bedtime.
I miss you so much, dad xxx
My most sincere condolences to Bill's immediate friends and family.
Our loss is Heaven's gain. The folks up there won't know what's hit them, but they're in for a real treat.
What’s next?! Well as we try to absorb the shock of his passing, we all try to think about Bill and his legacy. All I can read from his family and friends is of great comfort and a confirmation that I should smile. His family, his kids, Mary, his friends and colleagues are all family to me.
Bill’s smile is contagious and is second to none. Whenever Whatever Whomever you had to join his band, his tribe, hir circle.
One day in a palace luxury hotel lobby in Lausanne by the lake a very very posh palatial hotel, there is some very wealthy people. Bill and I had great manners thanks to him. As we were having brandy by the fire over a giant chimney, we started to talk to some bankers, and Bill was one of them as he talked and described his service in the royal army in Aden (that is Yemen folks still one of the hottest point in the globe). His build and biceps talked for him. He and I started talking art and music with these bankers over brandy and cracking wood in the chimney. My english then was ok but I was pretending being american to cover up for the mishaps in my diatribe I remember. Well by then, Bill stood up and went to the antique piano and started this startling very very loud monolog of keys that quiet the entire bar and the fire. His speed and to the note accuracy did quiet the room. I was completely amazed and shocked. So much so that he had never talked to me about this music teachings in his childhood. I only remember that after his education he went into the army, came back and got a job. I knew then right there his parents put him into music lessons and piano practice. It was very humble from him to never ever ever talk about his inner skills. Every now and again I would ask him to play whenever I saw a piano. He would humbly push back and just say he is an amateur. But in Cannes one night he played with the American blues artist in residence Mjke Mc Kissic and had a great performance. We visited this great jazz performer each and every time until Mike moved to Singapore in 2007. Well Bill was an amazing music and piano player. His style was speed, classic and professional. It was about performance. I can’t play 3 seconds piano before it becomes a massacre which Bill witnessed in despair. I tried to put my kids into piano but as Bill would say back then to me: Stick to Selling and Smiling. The day you have kids, they’ll teach you. But you’re thick......
Hate you Bill! (For that)
Very sad to hear about Bill, I had the very good fortune to work for him at Octel in the late 90's and enjoyed every minute. I fondly remember one 'sales meeting' playing golf at Woburn with Bill, Hollers and my father where Bill pulled off one miracle shot after another from places no golfer should ever visit. Each one celebrated with a joke, a cheer or a laugh and when he won the money true to form he would spend it on drinks all round. A true gent and a privilege to have known him.
My condolences. It's very sad to hear of Bill's passing. I had the pleasure of working with Bill during his Spanlink days. Bill was a charismatic leader with an even better sense of humour. It was great working for someone with such passion and enthusiasm for work, great food and even better wine! Bill will be sadly missed, but fondly remembered by all who knew him. Best wishes to family and friends. Marcus
In the big BMW, driving back home to rose cottage, dad could perfectly time the guitar riff in Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’ to begin at the top of the hill leading into Halford. As the lead guitar kicked in he would slam the accelerator and we’d fly down the hill towards home. I’m sure it worried mum at the time, but for us it was just confirmation that our dad is a superhero.
Sir Bill and I had a trip ro Athens in March ‘98. My father was sporting a mustache too and I revered him so much. My dad was ill in early 98 and got hospitalised in and out of medical care. As I landed in Athens, Bill and I met at the airport. Drove to the hotel and prepared for a meeting at Coca-Cola the next day.
That evening my younger brother called me as he was losing it about our pop’s health. I conforted him as much as I could on the phone as I was sitting with Bill for dinner. I was talking to my brother George in French mind you. As soon as I hang up, Bill saw it all and understood the situation, and provided me with the most comforting words as I needed to take stock. While I was on the phone, he had already rearranged my trip back to Paris and put me in a cab. I remember telling him not so many words but trying to tell him it was ok, we are here, we spent money travelling all the way here to Athens and I could not fail him. I remember being paralyzed and losing the power of speech. Zombie type. He got it all by just looking at me and knowingly acted like a father to me.
By no time I was in a cab he called, rearranged meetings for him in the morning and cancelled rooms, booked flights. I travelled back speechless, and rushed to the hospital the next morning. My family needed me around them and not in some exotic selling spree. I did realize how much I was needed. My father passed away in April a gew weeks later. Bill has acted as a real friend, a phenomenal leader, a strong man at the moment he saw my natural assurances fading, and taught me a great lesson. He stood next to me during the few weeks I was trying to manage the hospital situation with my family and even more so during our mourning. I will never forget how he read in my despair, my resistance to leave Athens, and his grave look in his eyes when he commanded me to jump in the cab and rush home. I am forever greatful to him, to have being a great support during these tough times. I would like to pass on my brother George deepest sympathies who met Bill once in Paris for dinner. Forever greatful.