Bill...the man, the husband, the friend, the mentor....the inspiration.
July 29, 1942 - January 17, 2010

Bill town spent his childhood outdoors. He worked his own section of the family garden, maintained rock, leaf and bug collections and became interested in chemistry when his childhood friend received a chemistry set for Christmas. As a biology and chemistry teacher in Clifton Park, NY, he and a colleague formed a science research club and took their students to the bogs in Taborton to study wetland ecology. The club eventually because The Paludiological Society, Inc., a not-for-profit dedicated to the study and protection of wetlands. For his own pleasure he collected and learned to identify Sphagnum moss, common in wetlands, and eventually published several articles on the plant.

With 250 acres comprising the Shenendehowa Central School District campus, Science Club expanded and established the Amos Eaton Arboretum. For 15 years the club sponsored Arbor Day celebrations and planted more than 200 trees along the roadways. Concurrently, the students were still doing their research and Bill decided it was time to have them learn the importance of communication. The students summarized their work, wrote lectures and presented their research to a group of naturalists assembled one afternoon in a classroom. In subsequent years, presentations were done in the school's Little Theatre and one junior published her work in a research journal.

Bill wasn't done. He took his students to Chango Elementary to mentor an after school science program. As a member of the American Chemical Society, he chaired the Education Committee and worked to provide chemistry awareness for students and teachers at all grade levels. He developed his Chemistry Magic Show, a one hour program of chemistry demonstrations, and performed at the state museum, local schools and the Schaghticoke Fair.

In retirement Bill became a Master Gardner through Cornell Cooperative Extension, joined the Albany Men's Garden Club and volunteered many hours at Oakwood Cemetery in Troy and The Center for the Disabled in Albany. He cataloged trees, cleared brush, manned information booths and helped with fund raising. He became a regular volunteer at Hoosic Valley Elementary School, teaching science with his hands-on lessons and chemistry demonstrations. Teaching was his passion. He even brought the chemistry demos to the driveway every Halloween.

Bill always believed that as a member of any organization, he needed to be active. He needed to contribute. That is why he became Mayor, volunteered at the school, worked at the county fair, formed the Village Beautification Committee, became an EMT, shoveled neighbors' driveways and so much more. Friends often said to Bill they wanted to retire but didn't know what to do with all the free time. His answer was simple: get involved.

Living through ALS
In April 2008, Bill lead field trips to wet, wooded areas. A month later he couldn't lift his left arm over his head. By July he had trouble using a shovel and had to give up his volunteer gardening projects. At home he could weed his garden but not hoe up the beans or use the weed whacker. In September we were in the doctor's office as he reviewed all the tests Bill had completed over the summer. I sat with my notebook, a page half filled, as the doctor listed one test after another that came back negative. I was relieved that Bill didn't have Lyme disease, MS or Guillain-barre but then the doctor said all tests point to neurodegenerative disease, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (Lou Gehrig's Disease). My pencil kept moving but I couldn't press down to write anything. I looked at the doctor. He was pale.

It was three weeks before we told anyone. We didn't talk about ALS between ourselves and tried to go on as usual, squeezing 20 years of living into what little time we had left. Bill continued to do as much volunteer work as possible but by December he needed help dressing, couldn't drive and was having trouble holding onto a fork. He needed to get back to volunteering at Hoosic Valley so, with me as the hands and Bill as the voice, we started an after school science club and scheduled classroom visits for the chemistry demos. By the time we finished in May, Bill needed help bathing and eating and used a wheelchair whenever he left home. He still managed with a cane at home but he had fallen twice so I tried to be near him whenever he got up from a chair. Falls, and their bruises, were frightening. Unable to lift his arms, he couldn't reach out or catch himself.

In the summer of 2009, Bill was frustrated and depressed. Tired of being trapped in a limp body, he wanted to do anything physical but instead spent his days looking out the window or watching TV. His fourth fall in September put him in the wheelchair. We moved furniture, got a lift, and modified every task required for Bill's care. By December the ALS had altered his swallowing and breathing. He couldn't sneeze, cough or take deep breaths. He was afraid of choking and ate very little. Then, one day in January, he couldn't swallow saliva or cough up phlegm. After several hours of his struggling for breath I had to call the ambulance. At the hospital Bill had to be intubated and for a week lay fully conscious, completely limp. The cruelty of ALS is that the patient is fully aware of what is happening but can't respond. We developed our own communication system, though it was slow and frustrating to use. By the eighth day, Bill had had enough. He wanted the tubes removed even though we knew he wouldn't live long without them. And so we said good-bye, I held his hand and 36 hours later, he died.

Three months later Bill's hat is still by the door; his shaving cream is still on the shelf. I'm not ready to let go. I promised Bill that last week in the hospital that I would go back to Hoosic Valley and continue doing the science classes. The children have been my healing power. They have sent me cards and offered me condolences. Some have given me hugs. I guess I have taken up Bill's mantra. I'll get involved, keep busy and try to make a difference.

Marilou Pudiak-Town