I'm way out of my comfort zone here. As public of a life as I lead, my private thoughts have always remained private. It’s what has taken me so long to embrace blogging.
But the suicide death of Bill Heywood and his wife Susan has, in the last 48 hours, begun a continuous and painful conversation with so many of my colleagues and friends who have all felt the need to collectively seek answers to the “why?” We’ve all been looking for a tiny thread of reason or understanding that could ease our pain. Those are two things that suicide will never do for survivors. It will never give us acceptable answers to our questions or fill the emptiness because of the story with a terribly sad ending.
What suicide does is take us on a journey of a thousand questions:
Why? Why that method?
How do you get there? How do you get to that final second and the point of no return?
Could anything or anyone have changed the circumstances, offer hope, perhaps a different way of looking at life and the finality of death?
How do loved ones move on? Find closure?
And the questions that haunt me to this very minute, where will their souls go and will they be at peace?
Bill Heywood played a very small and yet a very big role in my life. Bill was the reason I chose Phoenix to pursue my career in television.
In 1979, I had been offered hosting jobs in several cities at the same time. The big draw for Phoenix was that I was handed the opportunity to be Bill Heywood’s co-host for a wonderful show called PM Magazine, the show I was hosting in Reno, Nevada.
Channel 3 had tapped the ultimate on air personality in Bill Heywood, and they excited me with the chance to stand side-by-side one of the great talents in the radio industry. I didn't know Bill or anything about his already larger-than life persona and career, but I trusted KTVK and was thrilled at the opportunity. When I arrived here, Bill’s circumstances changed which prohibited him from hosting the show. I remained in Phoenix and am enjoying my 31st year on Arizona television.
Bill and I had the opportunity to MC events throughout the years and whenever I'd see him, I must admit, it was bittersweet. I couldn't help wonder what we would have accomplished as a television team, and selfishly I wondered how much I would have learned from him. Bill was bigger than life, seemingly "good in his own skin" and yet gentle, sweet and unaffected. To this day I wonder how different and how much better I would have been on the air given the chance to stand and work next to this industry giant.
We lost touch through the years, although whenever I’d hear his iconic voice or see him on television, I'd always think, "The guy will never lose that golden touch!” Physically, he was blessed with the Dick Clark Magic Eraser Of Years. I fully expected to turn on the television one day to see him hosting a national show. We lost touch, and that made the news for this media giant so surreal. I had just found out that Bill lived literally less than a mile from me, and he died even closer than that, in a hotel room around the corner from my house. Gone, the man who was the entire reason I moved here, and I never got to thank him for the awesome gift of Arizona.
As a postscript, Bill gave me one more gift in his passing. Admittedly, I didn't really fully understand the whole notion of blogging and why so many people feel the need to do so, until now. Now I can see now its value.
This blog post has been helpful and therapeutic. It gives me a sense of community and wanting to connect with so many of you who are feeling the way I do at this very moment. It connects me to those of you who didn’t know Bill but will take a moment to think about what you would do if you were Bill, or his family members or loved ones.
We can't know and we can't judge what happened in that room where Bill and Susan said goodbye to each other one last time.
I know that I can’t possibly answer the questions as to why Bill made this decision, but I can certainly ask of myself, “Am I making the right decisions based on what will always bring me true joy, even in the darkest of times and under the most tragic of circumstances? Am I walking alongside the people who will help get me there?"
The journey of a thousand questions is a long and important one, seeking answers that can never be given and asks questions that can help to guide our path with joy and light.
Goodbye Bill. Thank you.
