Remembering Bill Hunter

Hands in pockets, eyes on the ground, he walked miles every day, oblivious to snow, rain, or freezing cold.

Dear Sir:

Re: your Feb. 22, 2012 editorial in The Terrace Standard on the death of Bill Hunter.

Hunter and I walked the same Thornhill streets and trails for at least four years without exchanging a word. He was leery of me and my two dogs, though I assured him they wouldn’t hurt him ; my dogs were far more interested in shrubbery.

We first came upon each other in the bush south of Haaland Avenue. Even then I had no fear or worry about being alone with him far from help. His demeanour suggested a good upbringing and a decent soul.

I was in awe of his ability to withstand all weather without any form of headgear. Hands in pockets, eyes on the ground, he walked miles every day, oblivious to snow, rain, or freezing cold.

My last sighting of Hunter would have been a day or two before he died. He was walking south in the middle of Kirkaldy Street. I was meeting him on the left while my neighbour with her two dogs was walking along on the right;  he was sandwiched. A scary place for him.

I always took pains to keep my dogs close to me and never to look him in the eye. Acknowledgment of his presence made him most uncomfortable.

Over the years I heard stories about his past but have no idea if any of them were true. I hope he has family in Terrace.

 

Claudette Sandecki, Terrace, BC