BILL THE PRINTER
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There are 11 “Bill’s” on my email address
list. They are similar only in name. I think I’ve met most of them personally
and corresponded with all of them at one time or another.
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There is one Bill not on any of my lists.
I count him, though, because he was the guy who printed our Blue Sheet. Only
this last time I didn’t see him. I asked, “Where’s Bill these days?”
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“Oh, didn’t you hear that he died?”
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I took a breath for a moment. I was
sorry to have to hear news I really didn’t like hearing. I went home to find
his obituary.
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When you have mailings and booklets
and occasional programs printed over 50 years, you get to know your printers.
You gradually learn about them, a little bit with each delivery of copy and
pick up.
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I think all of my printers read at least
some of my writing, so they knew a lot more about me than I did about them.
My printers spoke of occasional pages they especially liked and were quiet
about ones they didn’t.
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Bill had a quick wit and chuckled and
bantered with me briefly about things each time we did business. There were
times when we missed connecting. I knew that he had dialysis each week, so
it didn’t alarm me not to see him occasionally.
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Lots of things can happen to people
between mailings.
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I began thinking of the other Bill’s
I know. There’s Bill the baker where we buy our bread, and Bill the Webmaster
who preps the Blue Sheet and gives me a link to send to those who get it
electronically. There are two Bill’s who are beach neighbors on Puget Sound.
Others are in places like Albany OR and Seattle and Williston VT. I can’t
remember them all. Then there is Bill the printer.
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The paper-printed word is a threatened
species. People like Bill (as well as my church secretaries) have advanced
my writings over the past 50-and-more years from hand-cranked mimeograph,
electric mimeograph, typeset and off-set press, photo copy, inkjet and laser.
Much of this business has moved into home offices that have advanced printers.
Bill stayed in business when others didn’t because he offered special additional
services that included addressing and mailing.
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While I regret it, I see that the next
step is for electronic publication via the Internet. Some of my writing goes
that route. It works, sort of. Bill and I talked about the difference between
skimming a publication like mine on a computer screen and holding a page
in your hand. He thought he would always have a market. I admired him for
staying on top of the technology. No one can measure the number of words
he printed and published in his career.
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He was more than a printer, or course.
He was a special man who maintained a human touch, living his life and faith
with courage and grace.
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His wife, Tammy, and son, Adam, carry on the business.
It will take a while for me to stop thinking of it as the place where Bill
the printer did our blue sheet.
─ Art Morgan, February 18, 2009
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