Billy was a wonderful father, brother, son, friend and cousin. He was a career soldier, serving 25 years in the Army and retiring at the rank of Master Sergeant.

I was able to visit with him on Saturday, the day before he died. When I walked in, he resembled the man that I knew, but cancer changes you in many ways, including weight loss. He had lost over 100 pounds. I sat next to his bed for over 2 hours talking, laughing and going through his photo albums. He told me what every picture was and some of the stories behind them.

Even though he & I always lived miles apart, we kept in touch often. When email came along, it made it very easy to write each other and share pictures and stories. He did enjoy sharing pictures of his family and what he loved doing in life: such as hunting, fishing, SCUBA diving, skiing, just to name a few. He was a Sensei in Judo and loved teaching kids the art. He was a scout leader, as both of his children are involved in scouting.

The viewing was held on Wednesday, February 5. There were at least 300 or more people that attended. Friends, family, soldiers from his unit and the boy scout and girl scout troop...all there to pay their respects to a person that touched their lives in some way.

The day of his funeral, the chapel was full. There was a Scottish bagpiper outside playing as people came in. His best friend gave the eulogy. Many people wept at his words. The pastor that baptized him when he was a boy and ordained his marriage to Sharon, gave the parting sermon.

The funeral procession was long. I was the 5th car from the hearse. I looked in my side mirror and all I could see was headlights and flashers. So many cars. We were lucky to have the police block traffic while we made our journey to the cemetery. He was buried with military funeral honors which included the playing of Taps, folding and presenting the national flag to Sharon and the firing of three rifle volleys. The bagpiper played Amazing Grace. I believe the sound of bagpipes playing a sad tune brings out the emotions of most everyone.

I have only a few pictures to display, but he had many. We had several things in common, photography was one of them. I will miss him, but he'll always be in my heart.

Eulogy for Billy

We have all gathered here today to celebrate the life of Billy McGregor, III.   There are many people here and each of us has had our own special relationship with him.  He was, after all, a man of many dimensions:  A son, husband, father, brother, soldier and friend.

God graced us with his presence for 47 years and during that time he embraced life for all that it was worth.  If you asked Billy he would be the first to tell you that he had been blessed beyond his wildest dreams.  Bill meant many different things to all of us, and held a special place in our hearts.  When I think of Billy, I think of the three main loves of his life, his family, his country and his friends.  To capture his thoughts, Billy maintained a daily diary, so I will let him help me tell his story.

 I.                   Son, Husband and Father:

As a son, he would tell you that it was his lucky fortune to be born of two wonderful parents who established the strong foundation that would carry him through his life.  Through them he developed an unwavering faith in God, a deep respect for himself and others, important life values, a strong work ethic and above all else the knowledge of what it was to be loved and to love.  Mrs. McGregor, if he were here he would thank you for all the gifts that you gave him and for all the times that you have been there for he, Sharon and the children.  He would also remind you to take care of yourself as well as you take care of everyone else.

As a husband he would tell you that he had been lucky enough to meet and marry his soul mate.  He knew that God had placed before him the one woman that was truly right for him.  He frequently described her as strong-willed, determined and the most demanding woman that he had ever met.  He would also describe her as the most beautiful, gracious, warm, loving and energetic woman he had ever known.   He would acknowledge that in many ways she was his exact opposite and together they made a wonderful team.   Sharon, if Bill were here today he would remind you that your only real fault is how tough you can be on yourself.  He would ask you again, as he did in his hospital room in Richmond, to always trust your instincts, to go with what is right and to share your love freely, especially with the children.  He would also remind you that you are never alone.

As a father he would tell you that being a Dad was the best part of his life.  He would gladly share the stories of his children with anyone willing to listen.   He would talk about the pleasure he gained from reading with them at bedtime, of being a part of their scouting adventures, of coaching their baseball and soccer teams, of teaching them to play Judo, of attending school plays, of going to movies, taking them fishing, of spending time at the pool, of teaching them life’s important lessons and most importantly of sharing with them the knowledge of what it was to be loved and to love.  If he were here now he would remind all three of you to always strive to be your best, to be kind to yourself, to march to your own drum, to make the right choices, to cherish your family and remember above all else that God has a plan for each of us.

As a brother he would tell you that being a big brother was not always easy.  He would be more than happy to share that having a pesky little sister who thought he was Mr. Wonderful could be exhausting.  He would also share that on more than one occasion SHE, not HE was the root of his getting into trouble.  He would also describe a relationship that would in time grow to form one of the strongest possible bonds.  Jettaka, if he were here today he would remind you to keep an eye on the family, to take time and enjoy life and its many gifts and how very proud he always was to have had you as his sister.

 II.                 Soldier

For all the time I knew him, and for the majority of his life, Bill McGregor was a soldier.  His love of his country was unsurpassed by any other soldier I’ve known.  Whether you saw Bill at the head of a convoy leaving for another field problem, at his desk in the TOC directing operations, or with his hand on the shoulder of one of his errant soldiers directing their next move, you always knew that he had a plan and that plan was being carried out. 

Bill was the most meticulous man I ever knew, and always had a plan and procedure for everything.  His military plan was always clear, as was his plan for life:  To do the best for everyone he encountered or those entrusted to his care, and to serve his country to the fullest extent of his ability.  Bill grew up in a military family and his love for his country and soldiers was an inherent part of his being.  His energy and dedication to the accomplishment of these tasks was never ending and unswerving, and he was never satisfied until the job was done.

At the end of one of our drill weekends, when everyone else had already left the armory, I remember passing Bill’s office and finding him there with his soldiers.  I stopped outside the door and listened as I heard Bill review the actions, both good and bad, of each of his soldiers in turn.  He took the time with each of them to find not only the faults, but also the strengths in their performance, and to advise them on how those strengths could be used to correct the faults.  Only after he’d spoken with all of them and gained their promise to continue to improve did he release them for the day.  After they left, I questioned Bill about keeping them so late.  His response to me was simple, but embodied his true spirit.  He said “Sergeant Major, we still had work left to do.  If the balloon goes up tomorrow, it’s my job to make sure that my soldiers are ready.”  There is no greater tribute to MSG McGregor than to say today with confidence that I know those soldiers are ready, because they were trained by him.   Bill would tell each of his fellow soldiers one thing today:

 Charlie Mike, Continue the Mission.

III.             Friend

          Many of us were privileged enough to have called Bill McGregor our friend, and more importantly, to have had that   friendship returned tenfold.  Whether you knew Bill as a hunter, a sensei, a diver or as a friend, you knew that you had a strong, steady, reliable person at your side that was willing to give his life for you, because you were his friend.

Bill and I began our friendship in the Army, but it developed and blossomed through our shared love of diving.  From our first dive together, until the last one we made years later I was never comfortable without Bill as my dive buddy.  He had a calming confidence about him that couldn’t help but spread to other people, and which penetrated and defused the most alarming circumstances.  When I was in trouble and feeling the beginning of panic, which in diving is the most serious of circumstances, one look over my shoulder would always find Bill right there, ready to calm and assist and insure that everything was alright.

To Bill a friend was a friend for life, and being his friend was an easy thing.  There was no compromise, no price to pay and no end to the degree of friendship that he would deliver.  Bill loved to help his friends, and there was never a time that he would be called on to assist one that he would fail to perform that task, however great or small.  He was a great man, a loving and caring husband and father, and a wonderful friend.  My life has truly been enriched by having known him and called him “friend”, and I will miss him terribly.

Bill was diagnosed with cancer on November 19, 2002.  At that time he was told that his illness was not curable and that he did not have long to live.  He faced that fact with great courage.  He himself said that if he had his life to live over again he would do so without making any changes.  Bill’s ONLY regret was the fact that he was going to leave his family and friends.

When asked recently what pearls of wisdom he had for us he said “Judge people for their character alone, and treat others the way you would want to be treated”.  As we all celebrate the life that Bill loved so much, remember that he was looking ahead, with great curiosity and excitement, to the wondrous adventures that began for him this past Sunday morning.