Welcome to the memorial page for
William R. Clark
May 9, 1939 ~ September 22, 2017 (age 78) 78 Years Old Light a Candle
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Message from Kerstyn Motter
May 9, 2018 6:51 PM
When I was two years old, my parents and I moved from Hubbard to North Carolina. Pop-Pop came over to our house on Hagar Street to say goodbye, and as he left, he turned around with tears in his eyes, and saw a little curly-haired girl crying at the top of the steps, watching him leave. I was too young to actually remember this moment, but now it is a picture that I will never forget, because Pop-Pop had talked and described that day to me for years growing up, and it always made me cry. From a very young age, Pop-Pop and I had a special bond, and I knew it. Of course, Pop-Pop had a special bond with each of his grandchildren, and I hope to give you all a glimpse of that through my perspective. He loved his children and grandchildren. From the time Joey was born, he lived his life for his grandchildren. Anyone who knew him knows how much he loved his family.
As for me, I had the good fortune of being the first granddaughter in the family, and the only girl for about three years. In case you don’t know me, my name is Kerstyn, or as Pop-Pop would call me, “Sweet Kate” or “Katie” since he liked that name better than Kerstyn.
Growing up, Pop-Pop played a huge role in my upbringing and education, as well as my brother, sisters, and cousins. Pop-Pop was never not there. In every childhood memory, he was there. I remember little things, things that seemed insignificant at the time, but that have all added up to a beautiful, wonderful life. Things like learning to make pancakes and bacon and homemade applesauce. Learning to throw a baseball and play catch, first by playing “hot potato,” then catching “pop-ups” that he would throw. He threw the best pop-ups. It’s amazing the things he could do, even when his knees and hips made it really hard to get around.
A lot of our memories with Pop-Pop revolve around trying new things and learning as much as possible about nature, history, how the world works, so I wanted to share a few of the “big picture” lessons that Pop-Pop taught all of us over the years.
Quit thinking and just do it. This is something he would say to me a lot as a kid. I grew up afraid of a lot of things, and I truly think Pop-Pop pushing me to “just do it” changed me into the much more fearless person I am today. He would say this when he taught me how to dive into the deep end of the West Middlesex community pool. When he taught me how to jump on the pogo stick, walk on the tall stilts he hand made, and when learning how to hit a fast pitch softball. He would watch me hesitate, seeing my mind go a mile a minute before making a move, and finally say “quit thinking about it and just do it!”
Pay attention and be patient. This one is a funny one and I think I’m still working on it. Pop-Pop was always making sure we were paying attention. Sometimes it would be by asking us to repeat some key words in a history lesson (“say ‘World War II’”), other times it would be by giving extremely specific instructions to any task he gave. For example, “please get me a cup of ice water from the kitchen. First, get a tall glass and put TWO ice cubes in it…” then, if I started to walk inside to get the water while he was still instructing, he would say “Yo yo yo! Slow down, I’m not done yet!”
He would also a perfect example of patience in our lives. With five granddaughters occasionally being brats or going at each other’s throats in the car with him, he had to be. He spend 20+ years patiently loving us and paying attention to every little thing we did. When I turned 16, he made me a timeline of my life, pictures and all, naming years of memories in my life. He could do this because he fully paid attention and remembered everything.
He taught me to never stop exploring, trying new things, and to enjoy the little things. It sounds very cliché, but Pop-Pop is someone who literally lived that out. Us grandchildren agree that we had the best childhood and we were NEVER bored. He took us to Irish festivals, kite festivals, farm tours, art and wood carving museums, Amish towns and cheesehouses, community pools, and many, many outdoor band concerts where we would play catch and blow bubbles and dance. He signed us up for soccer, basketball, softball, Irish step dancing, swimming lessons, piano lessons, and he never missed a single game, practice, or performance. He made a point to enjoy life’s simplest, most beautiful moments:
Playing croquet and washers in his backyard which he named “Clark Park.”
Driving to Campbell for a chocolate malt and enjoying it outside at Roosevelt Park.
Taking scenic drives, and if he was in the car in front of you, he’d be listening to classic music, big band, or bluegrass, waving his arm out the window like he was conducting.
He loved nature and being outside. I could always count on him sitting on his front porch, reading the paper or watching his birds (and watching the squirrels fight for their food!)
He taught us to love and be devoted to our family. He always made sure to call our long distance family when we were all together so we could pass the phone around and say hi to Grandma Cheese and the rest of the family.
When our family moved to Tennessee in 2004, he regularly sent letters, cards, gifts, and we talked often. Even time and distance did not stop us from being his top priority. I did not get a chance to write down a story from everyone, but I was talking to my sister Cara, and she told me that one of her most impactful memories of Pop-Pop was when she was about ten years old and was doing a project where she was making a t-shirt for church. She wanted to design an airplane on the shirt, she called Pop-Pop and asked him if he could help her make an airplane stencil in the next few days. Next thing she knew, he was honking in our driveway on Moore Street about 30 minutes later with a perfect airplane stencil that he had just drawn up right away. She ended up winning the contest, which is no surprise. Pop-Pop was always so creative. Along with being a genius, he loved music and art. He encouraged us to draw, paint, and make crafts of all kinds. He enjoyed reading poetry with us, so as I finish up, I am going to read one of his favorite poems: “Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
One last thing I wanted to do is just express on behalf of the whole Clark family, and all the other family and friends here today, we love you Pop-Pop. And I know that his legacy will live on forever through all of us and we will make him proud.
As for me, I had the good fortune of being the first granddaughter in the family, and the only girl for about three years. In case you don’t know me, my name is Kerstyn, or as Pop-Pop would call me, “Sweet Kate” or “Katie” since he liked that name better than Kerstyn.
Growing up, Pop-Pop played a huge role in my upbringing and education, as well as my brother, sisters, and cousins. Pop-Pop was never not there. In every childhood memory, he was there. I remember little things, things that seemed insignificant at the time, but that have all added up to a beautiful, wonderful life. Things like learning to make pancakes and bacon and homemade applesauce. Learning to throw a baseball and play catch, first by playing “hot potato,” then catching “pop-ups” that he would throw. He threw the best pop-ups. It’s amazing the things he could do, even when his knees and hips made it really hard to get around.
A lot of our memories with Pop-Pop revolve around trying new things and learning as much as possible about nature, history, how the world works, so I wanted to share a few of the “big picture” lessons that Pop-Pop taught all of us over the years.
Quit thinking and just do it. This is something he would say to me a lot as a kid. I grew up afraid of a lot of things, and I truly think Pop-Pop pushing me to “just do it” changed me into the much more fearless person I am today. He would say this when he taught me how to dive into the deep end of the West Middlesex community pool. When he taught me how to jump on the pogo stick, walk on the tall stilts he hand made, and when learning how to hit a fast pitch softball. He would watch me hesitate, seeing my mind go a mile a minute before making a move, and finally say “quit thinking about it and just do it!”
Pay attention and be patient. This one is a funny one and I think I’m still working on it. Pop-Pop was always making sure we were paying attention. Sometimes it would be by asking us to repeat some key words in a history lesson (“say ‘World War II’”), other times it would be by giving extremely specific instructions to any task he gave. For example, “please get me a cup of ice water from the kitchen. First, get a tall glass and put TWO ice cubes in it…” then, if I started to walk inside to get the water while he was still instructing, he would say “Yo yo yo! Slow down, I’m not done yet!”
He would also a perfect example of patience in our lives. With five granddaughters occasionally being brats or going at each other’s throats in the car with him, he had to be. He spend 20+ years patiently loving us and paying attention to every little thing we did. When I turned 16, he made me a timeline of my life, pictures and all, naming years of memories in my life. He could do this because he fully paid attention and remembered everything.
He taught me to never stop exploring, trying new things, and to enjoy the little things. It sounds very cliché, but Pop-Pop is someone who literally lived that out. Us grandchildren agree that we had the best childhood and we were NEVER bored. He took us to Irish festivals, kite festivals, farm tours, art and wood carving museums, Amish towns and cheesehouses, community pools, and many, many outdoor band concerts where we would play catch and blow bubbles and dance. He signed us up for soccer, basketball, softball, Irish step dancing, swimming lessons, piano lessons, and he never missed a single game, practice, or performance. He made a point to enjoy life’s simplest, most beautiful moments:
Playing croquet and washers in his backyard which he named “Clark Park.”
Driving to Campbell for a chocolate malt and enjoying it outside at Roosevelt Park.
Taking scenic drives, and if he was in the car in front of you, he’d be listening to classic music, big band, or bluegrass, waving his arm out the window like he was conducting.
He loved nature and being outside. I could always count on him sitting on his front porch, reading the paper or watching his birds (and watching the squirrels fight for their food!)
He taught us to love and be devoted to our family. He always made sure to call our long distance family when we were all together so we could pass the phone around and say hi to Grandma Cheese and the rest of the family.
When our family moved to Tennessee in 2004, he regularly sent letters, cards, gifts, and we talked often. Even time and distance did not stop us from being his top priority. I did not get a chance to write down a story from everyone, but I was talking to my sister Cara, and she told me that one of her most impactful memories of Pop-Pop was when she was about ten years old and was doing a project where she was making a t-shirt for church. She wanted to design an airplane on the shirt, she called Pop-Pop and asked him if he could help her make an airplane stencil in the next few days. Next thing she knew, he was honking in our driveway on Moore Street about 30 minutes later with a perfect airplane stencil that he had just drawn up right away. She ended up winning the contest, which is no surprise. Pop-Pop was always so creative. Along with being a genius, he loved music and art. He encouraged us to draw, paint, and make crafts of all kinds. He enjoyed reading poetry with us, so as I finish up, I am going to read one of his favorite poems: “Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
One last thing I wanted to do is just express on behalf of the whole Clark family, and all the other family and friends here today, we love you Pop-Pop. And I know that his legacy will live on forever through all of us and we will make him proud.
A candle was lit by Mary Balestrino
on October 7, 2017 8:08 AM
Message from Kathy and Larry Crowl
October 6, 2017 9:51 PM
To the William Clark family Larry and I send our deepest sympathy to you. Bill will always be remembered as a kind and gentle person who loved his family more than anything in the world. We are keeping you all close in our hearts and prayers. He will be deeply missed by many.
Much Love,
Kathy and Larry
Much Love,
Kathy and Larry
A candle was lit by Kathy Crowl
on October 6, 2017 9:44 PM
A candle was lit by Paula Clark
on October 4, 2017 3:50 PM
A candle was lit by Mary Katherine Motter (Clark)
on October 4, 2017 1:19 PM
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