I was lucky enough to know "Hursch" from elementary school through college as a roommate. We would ride our bikes to the library, hop on a bus for the movies at the Del Mar or Bal, and laugh entire summers at each other's houses. We spent hours and hours re-living baseball games and stats on his APBA board. He loved keeping track of teams, particularly the Giants and their superstars. An avid sports fan and journalism major, Bill was never able to participate the way the rest of us did. As a child, he had undergone open heart surgery (highly risky and experimental in those days) but he never let his physical limitation interfere with his zest for life. Upon graduating from San Jose St. Bill became a sports editor for a San Mateo newspaper and regularly reported on HIS team, the SF Giants Following the games, Hursch loved to go out drinking and celebrate the wins. Then he'd write his column each night. Unfortunately, Bill's body gave out but his joy of life and spirit never did. His weakened heart failed and he was found near his beloved typewriter. Hursch's final request was to be buried in a Giants uniform, the funeral procession making one last trip around Candlestick Park. Literally hundreds who were touched by his sincerity, magnetism, and humor attended. I will never forget his friendship, passion, and loyalty. All of us were privileged to know him.
Bill was the craziest driver I ever rode with! I went to San Jose State while he was there and he took me out on a few dates. They were always exciting and hair-raising adventures due to his driving abilities. I swear you could hear the door knob scraping the ground as he made a wild, high-speed turn. He knew absolutely nothing about maintaining an automobile. Once when Greg Moeller asked him when he had last changed the oil in his car, he answered, "Changed the oil? It had oil in it when I bought it!" Bill we still miss your crazy ways!
Sid Castro (1965)
I was lucky enough to know "Hursch" from elementary school through college as a roommate. We would ride our bikes to the library, hop on a bus for the movies at the Del Mar or Bal, and laugh entire summers at each other's houses. We spent hours and hours re-living baseball games and stats on his APBA board. He loved keeping track of teams, particularly the Giants and their superstars. An avid sports fan and journalism major, Bill was never able to participate the way the rest of us did. As a child, he had undergone open heart surgery (highly risky and experimental in those days) but he never let his physical limitation interfere with his zest for life. Upon graduating from San Jose St. Bill became a sports editor for a San Mateo newspaper and regularly reported on HIS team, the SF Giants Following the games, Hursch loved to go out drinking and celebrate the wins. Then he'd write his column each night.Unfortunately, Bill's body gave out but his joy of life and spirit never did. His weakened heart failed and he was found near his beloved typewriter. Hursch's final request was to be buried in a Giants uniform, the funeral procession making one last trip around Candlestick Park. Literally hundreds who were touched by his sincerity, magnetism, and humor attended.
I will never forget his friendship, passion, and loyalty. All of us were privileged to know him.
Rita Ruha (Moeller) (1965)
Bill was the craziest driver I ever rode with! I went to San Jose State while he was there and he took me out on a few dates. They were always exciting and hair-raising adventures due to his driving abilities. I swear you could hear the door knob scraping the ground as he made a wild, high-speed turn. He knew absolutely nothing about maintaining an automobile. Once when Greg Moeller asked him when he had last changed the oil in his car, he answered, "Changed the oil? It had oil in it when I bought it!"Bill we still miss your crazy ways!