Farewell to my friend, 'Wild' Bill Nelson

Spectrum/Howard Bess

Today I read with regret about the death of Bill Nelson.

Death is inevitable for all of us, but Bill delayed it as well as anyone I know. He had long suffered from diabetes and the accompanying infections and discomforts. His love of people and blurred reality were with him to the end.

I became aware of "Wild Bill" soon after moving to the Valley 18 years ago. How could I not be aware of him? His trucks, cars and trailers were everywhere. He could drive only one at a time, but his message-laden equipment was parked all over the Valley. They were in parking lots and were always around the courthouse and borough offices. He tirelessly laid out his messages. Judges and courts are crooked, and all attorneys should be in hell.

At the time, I was writing a weekly column for the Frontiersman. I decided to get acquainted with Bill Nelson. My friendship with Bill lasted until the day he died.

As a columnist and as best I could, I pieced together the story of "Wild Bill." It was not easy. Bill was a "stream of consciousness" talker. He could change subjects two or three times in the same sentence. However, if a listener would be patient, many of the things he said made sense.

I visited his home often. When I first started to get acquainted with Bill, he was married to a very pleasant woman several years his junior. Earlier he had been widowed.

His new wife was a runaway whom Bill befriended and eventually married. She bore him three or four sons in quick order. They were bright, well-mannered kids, and they obviously loved their father.

His wife was pleasant and quite cultured. I believe she was the daughter of a physician in Southern California. Several times we sat at his dining table and talked. Most of the time he spoke softly and intelligently. His intelligence was marred by an unreal world that he created.

He had, in fact, been a successful contractor. Another Valley person who knew Bill for a long time described him as a person who did good work, but who was a lousy businessman.

Bill believed he had been cheated in some of his business dealings, and when he sought redress in court, he lost. In a time of legal turmoil, Bill's first wife died. He blamed doctors, judges, and attorneys for the death of his wife. In his talk about his wife's death, I could never quite separate fact from fiction.

In his mind, Bill created a court system. His court system had higher authority than any Alaska court. He wrote long legal briefs making his case for justice.

Bill Nelson was a brilliant machinist. He had a huge machine shop close to his home. He was always eager to show me his latest project. He not only was a machinist, designer and welder, he was an incessant recruiter of friends to help him build things. The things he built would require an additional column. Just remember that he was talented and brilliant. Mathematics was a part of his computer-type mind.

In telling me about himself, Bill commented that Ernie Line was the smartest man he had ever known. I looked up Ernie Line. Ernie was a teacher at Wasilla High School and became the principal at Wasilla High while Bill was a student. (Ernie is now 90 years old and still lives in his family home in Wasilla.)

In his high school days, Bill Nelson saw a lot of the principal. Even back then, he was a bit of a nonconformist. Ernie really liked Bill and always found ways of being his friend. Ernie identified Bill as one of the smartest kids he ever knew as a teacher and principal. He followed Bill through his adulthood and maintained the friendship.

After hearing of Bill's death, I called Ernie and had another conversation with him about Bill Nelson. We have a common understanding of Bill. Bill was an undiagnosed, untreated bipolar. He complicated his mental illness with periodic problem drinking. His behavior patterns were classic to the disease.

People who are bipolar have enormous mood swings. Most people only knew Bill in his manic states. When Bill was manic, he seemed to be everywhere. He said "hi" to everyone and flirted with every woman he saw.

His voice would boom across Carrs grocery store and parking lot. When in his manic state, Bill never slept. He would work in his shop for days without sleeping. He then would jump in a vehicle and make the rounds of the Valley (and sometimes Anchorage). He would go without sleeping until he collapsed.

When Bill dropped off into depression, he would simply disappear for days. He hardly got out of bed. The public only knew the manic side of his personality.

The tragedy of the bipolar experience is that when a person is on the manic cycle, life and reality become extremely distorted. Fact gets mixed with fiction. As Bill became more ill, he lost the ability to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

As Bill became more ill, his wife took their sons and moved to Southern California.

Bill is like so many other people with chronic mental illnesses. They lose everything, including family.

In one of our more rational conversations, Bill shared with me a piece of real truth. "I would not ever hurt anyone. It is for my advantage that I want some people to think I would."

Bill Nelson was a brilliant, kind, gentle, generous, loving person. My life has been enriched by his friendship. I will miss him.

Howard Bess is a Palmer minister and former political candidate.