A Reel Angel

Bill Reel met with me in his backyard. We sat in the summer sun as he read through my clips. Bill shared the advice and experiences of a newspaperman with three decades in his back pocket, yet he never uttered a condescending word. Bill willingly offered to serve as a reference for me as I applied for newspaper jobs, and he eagerly encouraged me to pursue journalism as a career. He even included me in one of his Newsday columns, and with four words he gave a 22-year-old kid immense encouragement. While speaking of me in his column, Bill wrote: “The kid can write.”

As we sat in his yard, Bill expounded on the profession I was entering. “It’s not an art, what we do,” he said. “It’s a craft.”

For 40 years, Bill Reel perfected that craft. He wrote from the soul, telling stories of real people. He wrote about the folks in New York City who are quietly making their town a better place, and also of the individuals who are humbly making their way back from personal struggles. In writing these columns for the Daily News and for Newsday, Bill Reel in turn made his city a better, more human place in which to live. When he died Monday at age 71, Bill left behind a legacy of candor, civility and compassion.

I grew up with Bill’s daughter, Ursula. We attended the same elementary and middle schools, and in time we both made our way into the world of journalism as well. For a while, both Ursula and Bill’s son, John, were colleagues of mine at the Staten Island Advance. It was eminent that Bill had done as good a job in parenting as he had in writing, as Ursula and John are incredible individuals.

I’ve lost touch with both of them, to my regret, and I hadn’t spoken with Bill in several years. We’d all moved on to different places and to different work. But the impact that this man had on me has never dissipated. Even as I wrote for the Advance, Bill continued to offer advice, and even help with stories. When we spoke, it never felt as though I was talking with a legendary New York columnist; instead, it felt more like I was chatting with an angel of some sort, who had reached down to help me find my way in an often-chaotic profession.

We cross so many paths in our lives, and there are countless opportunities in these hectic days to lose our patience and fend off those who ask for our time. I’m a teacher and a writer now – those are my certified professions. But back when I was at the beginning of my road, Bill Reel was teaching and writing in a way I can only aspire to emulate. He was an angel, all right. Certified in every way.