My final call with him was a moment to dread and cherish. When I tried this the first time there was no answer.
Oh no.
Then his granddaughter Jamie, an old friend as well, wrote and said to call him on his landline. There was Bill.
His voice was strong. He asked if I was going to be the announcer at the new race track at the Marion County Fairgrounds. He wondered what I was writing next.
As always, he inquired about USAC, and hoped that Levi Jones, who he admires, was doing well. I could barely get a word in to say my piece about what he meant to me and so many others. I finally had to talk over him.
He needed to hear what a great steward of the sport he had been, how important his work on the Benevolent Fund had been, and, for me, what a pleasure it had been to be mentored by him and become friends with his family.
I realize there are a host of younger fans, even in Indiana, who don‘t understand what a true legend Bill Marvel was. Maybe this small piece can change that.
As you age, you become acutely aware of significant shifts in the world around you. As I hung up from my final call with Marvel, I thought of Bill York, who presided over the press room of IMS, and for the Indiana Pacers for years.
There was the late Bob Clidinst, who would stand at the end of pit lane at the Speedway and could tell you every car that had hit the track that day, and for the previous 50 years.
As always, I thought of my great friend, the late Dick Jordan. These men, who were friends and important cogs in the racing world, were among those who took the time to educate an apprentice. It is a style that I think is now erroneously out of vogue, and that‘s too bad.
You never enter this sport, in any role, without things to learn.
In the end, it never comes down to awards and resumes, the impact you make in this short time on earth is best measured by the impact you make on others.
It turns out that Bill Marvel will exit this earth, but he will remain with many of us for a very long time.
The family secured hospice care, as Bill had requested to return home and pass in the company of those closest to him. As always, the fine folks who provide palliative care are there to make sure that those they watch over have as soft a landing as possible.
It seems that one day a hospice worker informed Bill that he had a problem.
“What‘s that?” Bill asked.
“Your heart is too strong,” the aide replied with a laugh.
Yes. Yes, it was. Many of us have known this for a very long time.
God Speed Bill.