In Memorium - Bill Martino and Rusty Slate

I don't even know what to say right now. After months of telling myself that Uncle Bill would most likely pass on soon I find myself surprised that he is gone. Grief is not a stranger to me, and I know it's ways, but I am still always caught by surprise it seems.

I will truly miss Bill.

There is so much I could say, but I just can't find the words right now.
 
People have written such honorable tribute about Uncle Bill on these two posts... I'm hurting but I'll try to relate something he gave me:

After emailing Bill last summer, I bought my first Khuk during the Ang Khola sale- a 20" AK by Sher. It wasn't cheap @$195- but I had high expectations. One the AK came, I was... speechless. It was unlike any knife I had, or had even seen.

With it came the Cantina family & the whole khukuri culture. I understood Bill, and his mission. How he helped the kamis & their families. And I saw how good builds upon good.

The khukuri came with a $48 dollar rebate check. And for once I saw good in myself. That just maybe, I too, could help make a difference, like Bill.

So I tore up the check and mailed it back to him.


Ad Astra
 

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Dammit. I don't have any Heineken, but what I have I'll drink to you, Bill. I'm richer for having known you.

(edit- I have a few Molson Canadians left in my fridge. I reached in and grabbed one. This batch has cute little sayings on the bottle. As I started to unscrew the cap, my eye fell on my bottle. This one says, I'm glad you had the chance to meet me.)

John
 
I don't get to post in here much, but I've always admired Uncle Bill. I guess I just want to say that even though I didn't know him personally nor have any anecdotes, I still feel your loss today. I wish he wasn't gone, but I hope he went to a reward for the life he lived.

As I said on The High Road, Bill will be mourned from points all over the globe, not just by his friends, but by people who never spoke to him. He wasn't famous, really, by the standards of the world, but he was very well known in our relatively small community, and for what? Crashing cars and throwing footballs? Slugging cops? Not knowing the difference between tuna and chicken?

He was famous for finding a way to help people others forgot and to do it with perfect dignity--theirs as well as his--bolstered, not torn down by charity and condescension. To be famous is not easy in our world, but to be famous for good works and a good spirit is next to impossible.

Not that next to impossible ever seemed to mean much to Bill Martino. . . .


I'm going to memorialize Bill by telling some people who don't know about HI what it is and who Bill was.
 
My favorite post by Bill:

Sometimes when I'm up very late fighting the insomnia that comes with this current territory and it's very quiet, I'll hear him in my mind. Yangdu's in bed, the TV's off, the lights are low, I'm in my recliner and in front of me are thankas and numerous other Buddhist icons glowing in flickering candlelight.

I'll close my eyes and let my mind drift back to that Tamang. He's over on his roof with his basari and I'm on mine with my Khukuri rum or an iceberb beer. It does not sound like a spiritual setting -- rum or beer and a basari player -- but it is.

The sun is setting and up on the hill maybe a quarter or half mile away I watch the golden spires of Swayambunath, my favorite Buddhist temple in the entire world, turn into a glowing golden red, watch the prayer flags flying in the evening breeze, listen to the bells and gongs ringing softly in the distance, and always in the background is the Tamang and his basari making sweet sounds that I have never heard before and have not heard since.

And I can feel myself dying, drifting away to I don't know where, floating away with the prayers of the prayer flags, here and then diminshing like the sound of the basari, here momentarily, alive and full, and then gone. I can feel Bill Martino dying and being replaced by someone new. The experience is mystical, wonderful and comforting. I do not fight the death and welcome the new unknown. All my old misbeliefs and misconceptions are fading away, being replaced by a new philosophy and realizations which fill me as nothing ever has in 50 years. Without really realizing it, I am becoming a Buddhist. It is a slow and gradual process and I am not even aware of what is happening to me.

Almost every evening I go up on the rooftop and experience this evening ritual and then one day I awaken and realize that I have changed. I am no longer my self but am someone new. I am a stranger even to myself. I find all my old fears and regrets have somehow washed away to be replaced by something new and peaceful and fullfilling that I do not quite understand and that old emotions have vanished, replaced by better and nobler ones. Although my old self is dead I have never felt so alive and vibrant. I suspect the transformation is what Christians call being born again.

One does not forget such an experience and the Tamang was a part of it.

No, Finn, I will not forget the lonely flute player.




Be well and safe, Friend.
 
To me Bill was the kind of guy that was your friend before he knew you even if you didn't know it.
 
billand%20austin%20healey.jpg
 
I got a blem and asked if I could pick it up instead of him shipping it since I was going to Reno in a couple days. I got there about 9 in the morning and Uncle was posting the blems for the day saw one I liked and said I will take. Before I even got my money out, Uncle Bill said "pay me when you can". I had the money and payed him, but that is how he did things. When I think of Uncle Bill I think of Honor and Integrity. I left at 11a.m., we had spent a couple hours just talking about stuff. It was great.

One of my favorite posts from Uncle is this one a couple years ago:
Khukuris -- a review and overlook mostly for newbies and strangers.

This may be old hat to old timers but it might be worthwhile reading for newbies and strangers.

If you break a khukuri down to its smallest component you begin to realize what it's really made of -- start magnifying and keep zooming in. You end up with some molecules, then some protons and neutrons, then quarks, and then pure energy.

If you break Bura down to the smallest component you get the same thing -- pure energy.

So what we have is one energy manupulating another energy. What is done in the manipulation is a changing of the universe. The universe is changed and will never be the same because of the action -- remembering that energy cannot be created or destroyed -- only manipulated.

Although many are illiterate the kamis have some innate sense of what it going on in the process and view it as a spiritual undertaking which I find quite understandable. They are profane but they are also very religious. The khukuri itself is imbued with notions from the Hindu and Buddhist faiths and there are physical reflections of this on both handle and blade.

So, the prayers and blessings of the kamis are a part of the deal. I personally admire the prayers and blessings -- never fail, always serve well, never draw in anger, if drawn in conflict serve the owner well and pity to the enemy. However, some do not share the same philosophy so if you are adverse to prayers and blessings then buy a factory khukuri.

Our entire operation is based on religous considerations and we will never change this modus operandi. All of us pray for each other. When the kamis thought I might die they conducted special prayers for me. They pray for the customers. They pray for themselves and their families. They pray for peace in the world. We do the same here and this is why we took on a Chaplain so that we might conduct our prayers in perhaps a little better fashion and in doing this maybe also help some in need.

I could ramble on but I think this is enough to get my point across and perhaps explain to strangers why and how we operate. If loving God and neighbor, trying to do what is good, decent and proper turn you off then you don't belong here.

Everything considered allows us to make the true statement that it all has to do with khukuris.

__________________
Blessings from the computer shack in Reno.

Uncle Bill

Thanks for being a good friend Uncle Bill, you lead by example.
 
Old Sailors sit and bullshit about how things used to be,
of the things they’ve seen
and the places they’ve been,
when they ventured out to sea.

They remember friends from long ago
and the times they had back then
of the money they’ve spilled
and the beer they’ve swilled
in their days as sailing men.

Their lives are lived in days gone by
with thoughts that forever last,
of Dixie cup hats
and bell bottom blues
and the good times in their past.

They recall long nights
with a moon so bright
far out on a lonely sea
and the thoughts they had
as youthful lads
when their lives were unbridled and free.

They know so well how their hearts would swell
when the flag fluttered proud and free
and the Stars and Stripes
made such beautiful sights
as they plowed through an angry sea.

They talk of the bread Ole’ cookie would bake
and the shrill of the bosun’s pipe,
and how the salt spray
fell like sparks out of hell
when a storm struck in the night.

They remember mates already gone
who forever hold a spot
in the stories of old
when sailors were bold
and lubbers were a pitiful lot.

They rode their ships through many a storm
when the sea was showing it’s might,
and the mighty waves
might be digging their graves
as they sailed on through the night.

They speak of nights in a bawdy house
somewhere on a foreign shore
and the beer they’d down
as they gathered around
cracking jokes with a busty whore.

Their sailing days are gone away
never more will they cross the brow,
but they have no regrets
for they know they’ve been blessed
`cause they honored their sacred vow.

Their numbers grow less with each passing day
as their chits in this life are called in,
but they’ve nothing to lose
for they’ve all paid their dues
and they’ll sail with their shipmates again.

I’ve heard them say before getting underway
that there’s still some sailing to do
and they’ll exclaim with a grin
that their ship has come in
and the Lord is commanding the crew.

(unknown)

Stephen
 
I never had anything to do with Bill (besides reading some of his stories and hearing that he's a great guy), but I just want to say that this is a very nice thread.
 
Bill was an example, without trying to be one. Two things fill my mind - accepting all comers and all ideas into the Cantina, yet still managing to keep it under control, and running a business like a family. I learned alot of lessons from Bill that I will carry for a long, long time. Perhaps even til we meet again (which brings to mind another Bill story - meeting old friends in the guise of children in the dentist's office).

"What does this have to do with khukuris......"

:cool:
 
The thing I'll remember most about "Uncle" Bill is he was always great to talk to on the phone or computer. He didn't have lots of time to BS but was always ready for quick chats. I'm going to miss him.
 
Looking over the thread about Uncle Bill's passing yet again, I'm struck by two things: it's a testament to Bill's character how many people are offering their condolences, and judging by the way they're expressing themselves, they are some pretty awesome people themselves. Bill surrounded himself with (attracted?) good company, at least in the last few months that I've known him.

I was brought up not to show emotion but I'm showing a little right now. Don't worry - I know that you guys won't tell anyone and I'm behind a computer screen anyway.

This could've gone in the other thread but I didn't want it to. That's taken on a different meaning. This one's for the happier stuff.

Looking over this, it didn't come out quite the way that I wanted to. Things never do. I'll let the folks who are good with words take it from here.
 
It is hard to know what to say. Reading this thread...I just wish I had found this Forum much earlier. My condolences to Uncle Bill's family and to the extended family here on the Forum. Prayers going up.

Jeff
 
I can't remember, by email or phone, the conversation we had several years ago.. I had used a Hanuman khukuri in the woods for a year, with no problems, we were talking about the souls of the khukuries.. and how they could speak to you...

can't have conversations like that with too many people.

He was a special man, and remains a beautiful sentient being somewhere.
 
Satori said:
Last edited by Satori : Today at 06:53 PM. Reason: Trying to get my point across, and still failing.
Click to expand...
You didn't fail my friend, not at all.:)
 
Sometimes I feel like the Great Men are leaving this world faster than they are entering. Looking at my generation, I see nobody of Uncle Bill's caliber. No Teddy Roosevelts, no George Washingtons, no Pattons or Martin Luther Kings.
 
I came too late to the Cantina and missed the heyday of the custom order phenomenon. I gather that in the past just about anything could be ordered custom-wise, but shortly after I came aboard Uncle Bill announced that he just couldn't support special orders anymore.

I respected his decision, and from that point on made a point of asking only for items that were listed as being for sale on the HI website in stock configuration. If I wanted something unique I bought it from one of the old time forumites, or looked for it on the Knife Exchange. In fact, if something was sent that was not quite what I had ordered, or was not the best quality in some respect (I only had a couple of those out of all I bought), I didn't say anything but just tried to fix them up myself.

In one e-mail exchange last May I mentioned offhand to Uncle Bill that my first 21" Chitlangi was still my favorite knife, and that the flat spined Malla was really underrated in my opinion. I went on to say (as if I knew anything compared to him!) that I thought both knives would be fantastic in 25" or 30" versions, and that someone was missing a bet by not making them in that size.

I thought no more of it until about 2 months later when he sent me an email telling me that "my knives" were here, and I had my choice of horn or wood for both a 25" Chitlangi and 25" Malla! And the cost was very reasonable as well.

On his own he had put the order in with the Kami's without telling me, and he must have said something to them because the workmanship on mine was a cut above the normal good work. Both knives had "glow in the dark" beautifully grained satisaal wood, were mirror polished with beautifully sharp convex edges, and the scabbards fit like a glove.

As far as I know, those are the only 4 knives of those styles ever made in those lengths. I bought both wood models, and I think Ad Astra (Mike) now has the 25" horn Malla. I don't know the lucky guy who ended up with the horn 25" Chitlangi. I kick myself now for not having bought all four of them and to hell with the cost.

I wrote him a letter telling me how pleased I was and thanking him for placing the order for me, and all he wrote back in return was "Glad to hear it, and thanks for great continued interest."

In a way it's good in just one way that I did not find Uncle Bill and the Cantina and HI years earlier; I would have surely gone bankrupt doing special orders, and as prolific a writer as Uncle Bill was up to the time of his illness (check the archives and see how much he posted daily), I would have lost my job spending the day chatting with him online!

He also was the kind of guy you felt you could seek advice from. In one instance I was buying a khuk from a guy in Europe, and the shipping seemed high. I wrote to Uncle Bill late at night, asking if he could help tell me what a fair shipping rate was from Europe to the US for an insured 3 pound package. I expected he was already asleep and would hear from him in the morning, but at 1 am. he wrote back with a full breakdown of the costs involved, and ended up saving me a bunch of money! He had nothing to gain out of the deal at all of course, it was just his way.

Regards,

Norm
 
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