Remembering Bill Frew

In a charming anecdote, Nora told us about Bill’s Air Force assignment that involved refueling jet planes in the air. Bill willingly accepted this assignment, even though it was not as glamorous as flying the jets themselves, because it was both precise and challenging. Refueling aloft fit much better with his plans to become a commercial pilot. When he left the jet squadron, he patted one of the jets on the fuselage nose and said, “Goodbye” to it.

Bill Frew was a gifted human being – we have many recent memories of him. During an interview earlier this week, we asked Nora, Bill’s daughter, what she and Joe, Bill’s son, most vividly remember about him. She quickly replied, “His generosity! All someone had to do was ask him.”

He donated framed prints and paintings that he created whenever he was asked – to bazaars, fundraisers, and many charitable events. As a faithful member of Gate of Heaven Parish, he frequently picked up visiting priests from the airport when requested, and later would drive them so they could bring Communion to shut-ins. The heater on his car wasn’t working, so Bill also provided a thermal blanket to keep his priestly passengers warm.

Nora told us that Bill died while he was still quite active. He was found in the backyard of the home he inherited from his grandparents; he had been doing some kind of work on the trees there. This echoes the active nature of Bill’s grandfather, who once climbed a ladder at age 90 to clean second story gutters. Not only that, he inched along the roofline by “walking” the ladder from aloft. He didn’t bother to climb down to move it.

Bill retired after a long career, which he was truly passionate about. He then took the time to write extensively about being a pilot, both military and commercial, in his epic book, “A Pilot’s Life”. He spent an enormous amount of his time writing this book, which he did, “So my grandchildren will know who I was.” We understand this is a book that’s now been added to the Library of Congress Collection. He later spoke about his book at the South Boston Branch Library to an appreciative audience. Bill was also a charter member of the South Boston Writers Club.

Bill was a talented artist, too. We’ve taken the liberty of including photos of his work. For the most part, he was a painter of nature, using natural light from dawn to late afternoon. Another of his works was divided into a tabletop still life that looked out upon a landscape in the distance – a nicely composed painting that combined close detail with a distant view.

We mentioned Bill was gifted. He possessed an astonishing memory that simply did not forget anyone or anything. Here’s an excerpt of a poignant, personal memory from his life, after he returned to his hometown of South Boston to live:

While watching the Washington, D.C., Memorial Day observances in 2018, Bill decided to write about two Air force friends he had lost. Bill also recalled – very vividly, in fact – his much younger days managing a South Boston Little League team. Bill had placed one of his players on third base. He was a 12-year-old who had gone through a growth spurt; third base allowed the young athlete to take full advantage of his new-found (but awkward) strength. His name was Charles A. Bazzinotti. In a climactic, end-of-season game, Charles got two hits that helped Bill’s Little League team reach the playoffs. However, Bill had to report to the Air Force before the playoffs began. Years later, after Bill had returned to South Boston and started flying for TWA, he was shocked to see the Gold Star Bazzinotti Square at N and Seventh Streets. Charles A. Bazzinotti, U.S. Army, is one of the 25 U.S. casualties who are now enshrined on the South Boston Vietnam Memorial in Medal of Honor Park. Remembering Charles 50 years later, Bill then wrote, “I still always picture him with his happy smile of success after that big game”. For his entire life, Bill was completely devoted to his hometown of South Boston. He was born, raised, and returned here to live in the family residence. He served South Boston at every opportunity. We will remember Bill Frew – a true son of South Boston.