(The Bill Burnette Fund has been set up to aid the work of the Southeast Tennessee Chapter of the Alzheimer's Association)

Anyone remembering William Joseph Burnette probably would agree that if one word were to describe him, that word would be "gentleman."

The description reaches beyond his old-world, formal manner. Beyond his keen intelligence and knowledge, which drew a friendly nickname, "the professor." Even beyond his absolute lack of malice. Bill had the rare quality of showing each person a genuine, democratic respect - equal acceptance, profound consideration - whether that person appeared to rank beneath
or above him. He likewise accepted himself, without pride or apology. On every level, in every area, he remains a gentle, gentle man.

Bill is a Chattanooga native with an ancestry in this city prior to the Civil War. Born in 1918, he grew up at his family's country home on Signal Mountain and at a sumptuous dwelling his grandfather built on Cameron Hill.

After graduating from City High and a local business college, he visited New York City where, finding a job during the Depression, he remained. The Second World War took him to Italy, a country he afterwards revisited numerous times. Nevertheless, Chattanooga was his home, and to it he returned for life.

He worked in management at International Harvester, and in the land office of TVA, from whence he retired at age 65. Meanwhile, his family home, along with the top of Cameron Hill, was leveled in a 1950s "urban renewal" project. He therefore bought an unpretentious house on Missionary Ridge, enjoying a grand view of the city, then in 1985 moved to St. Elmo's historic Carriage House.

Bill has long been a member of St. Paul's Episcopal Church, serving as lay reader, usher, and choir singer. In the last few years he regularly attended the New England Seventh-day Adventist Church near Trenton, Georgia. His ability to recite Scripture and hymns was boundless. Even more tremendous was his understanding of music. There seemed nothing about the classics he did not know. Gifted, Bill studied the violin at Cadek Conservatory, and came to be much admired. Also he mastered the piano.

Another gift he perfected was a natural graciousness. Say something disparaging, he would without fail answer a good word. An old co-worker remarked, "everyone in the office liked Bill. He was the only one there who never had a bad thing to say about others."

One of this writer's singular memories of the man was an attempted rescue of a creature in trouble. I pointed up at a mockingbird - his leg caught in a string, which in turn was caught on an electric cable to the house - struggling with all his might. It was a pitiful scene, but nothing I could do about it. My 73 year-old friend, however, hurridly brought forth a heavy, rickety, twelve-foot wooden ladder. I could not believe my eyes. He stood on the very top shelf, counter-balancing its shaky stand while reaching out for the wildly fluttering bird. My warnings he dismissed, saying he "was born on a ladder," which compelled me to add, "and you're going to die on one." The bird became still, due to exhaustion and shock, and was carried to safety. Regretfully, it soon died. Bill buried it - but, what a lesson I had in the lengths of humaneness.

Today, at 83 [now 87], Bill retains much of his youthful agility. "Quick as a cat," as one friend puts it. And his mind retains some of its sharpness, too, especially his wit. Alzheimer's, nonetheless, is taking a relentless toll. In times past he confided his condition to me, and read whatever he saw on the subject. Bravely he struggled. Very bravely, indeed. He is somewhat like the ensnared bird he had pitied and tried to save. In my judgment he deserves many times the compassion and help.

A final point - throughout his life the gentleman quietly gave back to God and to society. He plentifully supported "worthy causes." Thus, in that spirit (though the recognition he would refuse) the Bill Burnette Fund is made.

(Gary Jenkins is a writer and longtime neighbor and friend to Bill Burnette)