Bill Foley’s Belt

But as odd as it seems to me, on the morning of Bill Foley’s death, I felt puny, out of sorts, and decided not to ride–not to have Bill Foley’s Belt around my knees, helping me in my workout.

Every morning when I ride the stationary bike, I use a worn, blue belt to hold my knees together. The belt keeps my paraplegic legs from flopping about and being hit by my hands as I crank the wheel. The belt belonged to Bill Foley, who I had the honor of coaching in the early 1070s when he wrestled at Bishop Ireton in Alexandria, VA.

Today, his brother Ward called to tell me that Bill had died earlier in the morning.

Bill Foley was an outstanding wrestler who won both major tournaments his senior year for which he was eligible. He defeated a defended champion in the St. Albans finals. A week later, he defeated the defending national prep champion. Those two tournaments personified Bill as a wrestler.

Bill worked diligently to achieve success on the mat, but he was much more than a wrestler. Bill was a gentle, kind young man who studied academics and wrestling. He cared about peers and teammates, and he helped coach younger wrestlers in our room, setting an example.

After graduating from James Madison University, not surprisingly, Bill became a counselor. He continued helping others.

Bill Foley (Class of 1976) inducted in 2009 into the Bishop Ireton Athletic Hall of Fame

Even though I had lost touch with Bill after he graduated from Bishop Ireton, he asked me to introduce him when he and his younger brother, Bob, were inducted into the BI Athletic Hall of Fame. Wrestling connected us once again.

At the induction, Bill and I discovered that we lived a few miles apart in the Shenandoah Valley. We were determined to stay in touch this time, and we did.

Parkinson’s was present in Bill’s body when we reconnected, but not obvious. Bill learned how to live with Parkinson’s, but he lost his wife, Cecilia, to cancer. Bill continued living as he had wrestled–dedicated to his children and grandchildren and a right-way life.

One day he phoned me to tell me that he wanted to purchase some summer clothes, I drove to his home, and we went shopping. After choosing new shorts and shirts, he chose a new belt. I enjoyed advising him of colors and styles- feeling much like I had done as his coach, knowing all along that he knew what to do but was allowing me to speak.

His old blue belt ended up in my car. When I discovered it some days later, I told Bill, but he said he didn’t want it. And that is how I began using it for my stationary rides. But as odd as it seems to me, on the morning of Bill Foley’s death, I felt puny, out of sorts, and decided not to ride–not to have Bill Foley’s Belt around my knees, helping me in my workout.

A.E. Housman’s tribute to a village athlete, To an Athlete Dying Young, was published in 1896. The young man celebrated in the poem ran a race that Housman describes as “The time you won your town the race.” And Bill, like the athlete in the poem, won championships for his family, his school, and finally for himself.

This morning, Bill, like the young runner of Housman, came to “the road all runners come.”  Now, we honor Bill like the young athlete who was celebrated in Housman’s words, “Shoulder-high we bring you home.”

For years you carried us; now we do the same for you.