I met Bill when he reached out for volunteer help back in 2014. Always welcoming, friendly and hard-working. A man with great example for others: humble, unselfish and dedicated.
Adan Martinez, UW Student Volunteer, UW Fishery Graduate
It isn’t possible to walk the trails at Carkeek and not watch for Bill there. For his persistent friendliness to everyone, my son and self included, I am grateful. Very sorry news indeed.
Andrea Frank, Carkeek Park Salmon Steward
I am very sorry to hear about the loss of Bill. I didn’t know him for very long. He was, however, a great help to the salmon program and a pleasure to be around when working with him
Ashley Orr, Green River College Student Volunteer
Bill, you will be missed. I have never worked with a kinder, more dedicated person in my life. You have been a blessing to Carkeek Park, the salmon and the Salish Sea. We will lift a glass in your honor tonight.
David Koon, President, Carkeek Park Advisory Council
Oh Bill… You had a look at the hydraulics at the Imprint Pond and said, “wait, let’s try this instead.” And we did. Good call Bill…
Rick Henry, Acting Director, Carkeek Watershed Community Action Project
Living on Earth interview: Week of March 2, 2012; Bill discusses Salmon Programs and education at Viewlands Elementary School with KUOW’s Ashley Ahearn.
Bill’s tireless service over the years is an eternal paying-it-forward. My kids will see salmon return that he helped raise. “Our deeds echo in eternity.” — Marcus Aurelius
To think that we were all laughing and raising our glasses in a toast last Saturday… I feel so blessed to have known such a kind soul as you, Mr Hagen. Thank-you for you dedication. You, Nancy and others have left a legacy for us to follow. Now more than ever we as a community, must all come together and finish the dream of saving our wonderful salmon. We shall make you proud.
I am broken up about this. Completely. Like Matt K. said in a related email, I became all too accustomed to arriving at Carkeek knowing Bill’s stubborn, dented red truck was likely to appear somewhere, or had, most likely, already been there for hours. Even though he’s gone, I’ll never stop looking for that truck, for him, for his baggy jeans, his white hair. Never. And, in his way, I know he’ll always be there, driving around somehow, watching, helping, protecting, and cheering on fish, people, and the work he so quietly, steadfastly would want us to do.