Knowing Bill

I’ve known Bill Kersey for years. I know him better now after attending his Celebration of Life last Saturday.

The first time I met Bill, he set me up to be the hero. I wrote an offer for my buyers on his listing. We met in his sellers’ home for my presentation. His sellers weren’t smiling, our introductions awkward. The man sat on the couch with his arms folded, his wife avoided eye contact. I was nervous, I was new at this. The atmosphere in the room had me loosening my tie and strategizing the shortest route to fresh air.

“I am so thankful you’ve written an offer on my listing, Doug,” said Bill, “I appreciate how much work goes into it. Are your buyers nervous right now?” They were, indeed. “Have they looked at many homes?” They looked at every house in their price range for six months; days, nights, and weekends.

By asking more questions, Bill introduced me and my buyers to his sellers. He soon had us all convinced that I was one heck of great realtor, and we were darn fortunate to be in my presence. He also had us convinced we were darn fortunate my buyers wrote on this home instead of one of many others for sale. That part was true. Another home was in their sights if they couldn’t get this one for the right price.

We closed the sale. We closed it because Bill opened it with his specialty: his empathy for people.

At the Celebration of Life an old colleague said Bill loved selling, didn’t mind making money, but his real mission in life was helping people. He was known to hand commission money back to clients in need. He accepted commission in forms other than money: a lifetime of meals at a Mexican restaurant; a fitness center membership; a car.

Bill Kersey was born to smile. When the memorial slideshow rolled, it was not hard to locate Bill in the photos. One only need look for the widest, brightest smile. Through all the stages of his life, there was the smile, in all its shining glory. Bill the kid and Bill the elder beamed warmth and happiness through a smile impossible not to return.

I didn’t know Bill was a high school baseball player and football quarterback. A lifelong friend said Bill wasn’t the best athlete on his teams; he just tried the hardest and worked his way up. We know he had good reflexes, though. His daughter said she would jump off of office filing cabinets into her daddy’s arms, always knowing she’d be safe, including the jumps when his back was turned.

I didn’t know Bill had two daughters, and loved to fill his back yard with neighborhood kids. He threw them in the pool and put them to work in his “Back Forty.”

I didn’t know he played guitar. The soundtrack to the memorial slideshow featured Johnny Cash, Randy Travis, Marvin Gaye, and The Temptations. That’s my kind of soundtrack.

Next time I see Bill, now that I know him better, we’ll pick a few tunes together, talk sports, and share the joy and terror of raising multiple daughters. Oh yeah, and smile.