Bill

Lake Milton, OH

October 2025

Bill spent his career in software, a world built on logic, patience, and curiosity, traits that would follow him everywhere. One thing I immediately noticed was how he listens to understand fully, absorbing information like a sponge, giving me his full attention when I spoke. Bill retired semi-recently and leaned into the lifelong passion of cycling, something he’s done his entire life both on the road and mountain biking.

Generously, Bill gives back to the places he cares about. Years ago, he spent countless hours helping shape the mountain bike trail where we met several months before this and again on this day. He put in the time not out of obligation, but because he believed places like this deserve care from the people who use them. While he sticks mostly to road cycling (30 miles recently), and his Peloton at home, Bill still shows up to support local mountain bike races as a Trail Marshal. In fact, the first time we met was at a race I was photographing on this trail.

Parkinson’s affected Bill’s life slowly, in stages. Speech changes that led his boss to believe he was enjoying a cold one at lunch, his body slightly out of sync, and a slight trouble with recall. Once the diagnosis was official, he responded the only way he knew how. As Bill researched and learned, he was determined to understand exactly how to fight something that does not fight fair. That led him to Dr. Jay Alberts at the Cleveland Clinic, whose research showed how high intensity cardio can slow the progression of Parkinson’s. The science resonated immediately as Bill asked thoughtful questions, and the clinic invited him into deeper conversations because they saw the seriousness of his approach.

Cycling and spinning became his primary tools. Still, he turned outward too. He showed up for YMCA programs and Rock Steady Boxing classes, and although his own regimen needed to be more demanding, he continued to volunteer at events, and help create a welcoming space for people newly navigating their diagnosis. The generosity came naturally to him, and he often shares his own journey publicly so others might feel less alone.

At the end of our time together, I asked Bill a potentially cliche question that I might not have been ready to hear the answer to, but in many ways needed to, and feel I need to share. The hardest thing Bill deals with is something he rarely highlights. Each morning, when all of the medications have worn off from the night before, he wakes to the full weight of the disease. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, those first minutes challenge him the most. And yet every day, he picks himself up and makes the most of the opportunities in front of him.