"Life, like a mist, appears for just a day, then disappears tomorrow
All that we are can quickly fade away, replaced with tears and sorrow
If a man should die, can he live again?
Hear the promise God has made:
He will call; the dead will answer
They shall live at his command
For he will have a longing for the work of his own hand
So have faith and do not wonder
For our God can make us stand
And we will live forever as the work of his own hand"
Job 14:13-15

UNCLE BILL

My earliest memories of Uncle Bill were in Hilliard when he came to our house on several occasions to ‘babysit’ the 5 of us Foster children while mom and dad went somewhere. I recall pizza was a part of the fun when Uncle Bill came around. I remember mom telling the story that during one of these times we kids had a stomach flu. Uncle Bill was stuck with cleaning up kid puke and wound up stepping out into the back yard to vomit himself.

In 1974 me and my friend Dave Duncan were hitchhiking our way to Alaska and stopped off for a stay with Uncle Bill in Denver. Uncle Bill worked at a racetrack there at the time. I can’t remember if it was dogs or horses running around the oval. What I do remember is going there with Uncle Bill one evening to watch the races and drink beer. 18 was the drinking age back then. I wouldn’t turn 18 until two months later in Alaska, but I knew a guy working at one of the racetrack beer stands; Uncle Bill. He told me and Dave after we bought our first beer from him to keep the plastic cup and come back for free refills, management inventoried beers sales by counting the cups. Dave and I got a great beer buzz and had the laughs and fun a 17 and 18 year old will while watching animals run around in a squashed circle.

In 1987 Uncle Bill, Dad, and brother Phil came to Alaska for a fishing adventure. On that trip we all got to watch Dad catch a 204lb halibut, fishing out of Valdez. Uncle Bill boated his two halibut limit on this trip, as we all did, soon after arrival on the fishing grounds. Later in the adventure we were camped and fishing for king salmon on the Klutina River. I had my 12 gauge shotgun along for bear protection. One night I was shooting off shotgun rounds into the river bluff. I remember Uncle Bill telling me he didn’t like guns, they made him uncomfortable. At the time, I was working as an armed security guard/medic on the Trans-Alaska pipeline. I really didn’t like wearing a 357 caliber handgun on my belt while on duty, this made me uncomfortable. Uncle Bill and I shared this gun dislike thing. Unlike most Alaskans whom are armed to the teeth, the only gun I own is the shotgun I had back on that trip. I don’t recall putting a round through it’s barrel since that trip.
 
Out of the blue on Thanksgiving in 2011 I called Uncle Bill to say hi. He was very anxious when we first starting talking, basically thinking I called to tell him someone had died or was sick. Once we got past this, we had a pleasant talk. On that day, my kids were having Thanksgiving dinner in Anchorage at an ex-wife gathering. I had tried to offer to help serve meals that day at Bean’s Cafe, the local homeless shelter dining hall. My offer of help was rejected. I wound up having a free Thanksgiving dinner at the Pioneer Bar on 4th Avenue in downtown Anchorage. This is where I called Uncle Bill from.

Uncle Bill is with Dad, Uncle Keith, Uncle Sonny, Aunt Shar, Aunt Jane and Uncle Chuck, Uncle Jack, and all the rest of the Foster Relations Tribe at the big cookout in the sky. They have all ‘just preceded us’ as the Mexican saying goes. We will all meet again in the fullness of time. As William Faulkner wrote; “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” May God guide Uncle Bill and all of us on our journeys.

little Jim Foster

God Bless and Thank YOU, Bill for your service in both The U.S.Army and The Air Force  ....RIP............And  Semper Fi.

Bill was the closest uncle in age to me so was more like a personal friend.  He helped me in so many ways as a teenager and so many more as an adult  with his attitude in life.  Of thousands of people I have known, Bill needed less to be happy.  Never have I known someone less demanding and totally without complaint with what life hit him with.   Bud

OBITUARY

William Gerald Foster

December 21, 1940 – March 18, 2016

Schoedinger Midtown

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