Dad

How you go about describing 64 years exposure to Bill Baird, my Dad? From my earliest memory he was always working on something, the backyard, the house , the car, or an airplane. I remember him stopping by our house when I was little, in his dark green phone truck and even the truck yelled "projects", with all the wires and ladders attached on the top. And then there are all those trips Doug and I made "bouncing" across Kearney Mesa, to Montgomery Field, before there were any Balboa or Claremont Mesa streets, as my dad navigated the dirt roads at high speed in his clunkers.. The only pavement I remember after bouncing down the dirt roads was the 395 Bridge at the airport. I bet Spider remembers his ugly yellow station wagon! Starting with his Ercoupe, there was an endless number of planes he flew his family around in, Taylor-Crafts, Navions, Muscateers, a Tri-pacer, Debonairs, Bonanzas, and every Cessna Bill Gibb's had on his flight line.

I owe him more than any eulogy can express, because even by the time I left the house at 18, I knew every essential of building a house, dismantling an engine, and flying an airplane. He set me up for success in the Air Force, and to this day the standards He and my Step Mother June expected of me shaped my character and career. Many of you who have known him, know he built his first home down on Oliver Street in Pacific Beach, with his own hands and wood collected from all over San Diego, long before I was born.

What I remember too was how important people were to him, only he had trouble expressing it, instead he did things for people, even when he was not asked. I remember when I was growing up and one of his Phone company or Marine buddies passed away, Dad would be right there to help the family get through the crisis, often reluctantly being the coordinator for funerals and family support. I remember two times when his workers suffered sudden loses of their children and my Dad would be rushing out of the house at 6am, and only later I would find out what tragedy had taken place.

My father was also a true electrical wizard, and I used to tell people he knew how electron's thought. He could look at a wiring schematic and tell what the designer was thinking and sometimes tell you what the designer did wrong. If any of his Phone Company buddies were here today, they would tell you the number of testing devices my Dad designed to find problems, because the manufacturer of the equipment didn't have good testing programs. Unfortunately, I did not get any of the electronic brain cells, but my brother Doug did. Instead I inherited Dad's ability to figure out how mechanical things work and design assemblies in my head, and then build them.

Throughout the years, my Dad managed to be married four times, which proved an endless supply of stories, to many of us here, and certainly even for his caregivers. Many care givers had a hard time believing some of his stories, until one of his kids would drop in on a visit, and say "oh yeah, he really did that!" Then there is the famous Bill Baird and "His Opinion", or some prickly comment on "why would you do that?" And there were always two time zones, real time, and Bill Baird time. Those who knew him well know exactly what I mean, since he would often show up un-expectedly with these words "You ready to go"?

Dad was always concerned with what his kids were doing no matter where they were, and through the years he always found ways to help all of us. He was always the "super counselor" and never hesitated to give us a "bad time" if he disagreed with our plans, but no matter what he supported us. I remember how mad he was when I wrecked my Ranchero, but the next day he had it towed to our drive way and said your going to repair this. So day by day he told we what to do the repair it. He turned my wreck into a blessing, because what he forced me to learn about drivelines, suspensions, and engine electronics, set me up for the Air Force Recruiters Test, which meant I was able to go straight in the Air Force and learn to fix jets! He counselled all of his kid's , over the years, and what he lacked in "tact and diplomacy" sometimes, he more than made up for through support and help to us.

Dad's counselling eventually carried over to his care givers and drivers, getting some in school, some to stay home, and our family favorite was his interviewing, and "counselling" his caregivers on their sex lives! We would ask him how he knew all this stuff, and he would say, "I just asked them".

Dad loved to fly and travel, and he travelled all over the world. Many times his trips were to see his kids, in Italy, Morocco, and even many trips to Australia. Often he would meet up with his kids in overseas locations to go on travel adventures. Then there were the wild adventures he would go out on in the attempt to recover or fix airplanes with Spider and Bill Schenkel, or go cross country with Frank Curry, Jim Dolby, and Dick Posten. Boy did I learn a lot about flying from Jim and Dick! My Dad was truly blessed by great friends and mentors.

His life was people and he was surrounded by them until the very end. Surely my Dad, and his questions and comments, are going to be missed by us all. I loved and respected my Dad.