"William Richard Campion was born on March 21st, 1938 in Buffalo, NY. His mother, Eleanor, was a homemaker and his father, William Leo, was a salesman. He had an older sister, Carolyn, and later, a younger brother, David. For his first 11 years they lived in Buffalo, where he enjoyed riding his bike and swimming with friends. The family moved to Miami, where he worked hard at 2 paper routes to make extra money. His mother didn?t have a car, so he bought a motor scooter with his own money to help with his paper routes and to drive his mother and younger brother when they needed transportation. When he was in high school, the family moved to Maryland, where he played football for a time. He got a job changing tires at Sears and later worked at his father?s auto parts store. He had a mentor at the store named Botts, who was a retired Marine. After high school Dad (in his own words) ?had a hankering to join the marines? for two years. His mentor convinced him to commit to just 6 months, which ultimately turned out to be good advice. Botts also introduced Dad to his friend, Gene, who was a professional mechanic. Together Bill and Gene bought the body of a ?41 Ford Coupe and built it up into a working car, which was a project they both enjoyed greatly. While he was in boot camp, Bill?s family moved to Wellesley and then Needham, Massachusetts. He got a job at Muzi Motors in the used car reclamation department. His coworkers welcomed him with open arms, but he soon realized that he wanted to go to college. He applied to Babson College, but initially he was not admitted. His father went to the admissions office to find out what they could do to help him out. They agreed to enroll him in a satellite school that they operated in the Midwest for his first year. If he did well there, they would allow him to transfer to Babson. He bent his mind to his studies, was successful, and finished his degree in economics at Babson. To complete his obligation to the Marines, he went to Platoon Leaders Class at Quantico for two summers. Corporal Campion was honorably discharged from the United States Marine Corps in 1964. During his last year at Babson, one of his friends set him up on a blind date. This was April Fool?s Day 1960. Three couples went out together, with two couples sitting in the ample back seat of a Buick. This is how he met Jennifer. They were married a year later on April 15th 1961. Bill and Jennifer went on to have two daughters, Lisa and Sara. Our family enjoyed many long summer vacations on Martha?s Vineyard. We usually stayed on Chappaquiddick, where we would take early morning walks to the beach, jump in the water, and ride the current, carefully jumping out before the rip tide. This was followed by running back up the beach, jumping in the water, riding the current until exhaustion ensued. We then reveled in spending the day quietly reading, listening to music, and doing jigsaw puzzles. This idyll was punctuated with quahogging, clamming, and fishing adventures. A favorite routine was to gather quahogs which Bill would then make into his delectable baked stuffed quahogs. He was, in fact, an excellent cook. This skill was honed when Jennifer went back to school to get her master?s in social work and the children objected to repeated dinners of fish sticks and french fries. His specialties were grilled swordfish, lobster, steak, and fried chicken. Bill was a devoted father. He spent years of Saturdays driving Lisa to horseback riding lessons, where she was known for her ability to calm the most fractious animals. He drove Sara to flute lessons and rehearsals and attended many a performance. He was a playful and gentle father and we have many fond memories of him reading, playing, and laughing with us. He celebrated our successes with a quiet, knowing smile, suggesting that it was no surprise to him. Then he would simply state, ?like cream rising to the top?. He was also very proud of all six of his grandchildren, who called him Popeye. He noticed all the best and most interesting qualities in each of them. He felt their pain when they had setbacks and celebrated their accomplishments. Bill also held his son-in-law, Bob Egan, in high esteem. He greatly admired Bob?s devotion to his family, his intelligence, and his work ethic. Perhaps more than anything, he saw Bob as a kindred spirit for his sense of humor. Most recently he enjoyed Bob?s description of rescuing an iPhone from the bottom of the pond as ?bobbing for apples?. Bill was very successful selling gas station equipment for his family business. He later started his own business, developing a revolutionary system that uses microbes to treat manure at fish, hog, and dairy farms. This reduces solids, mineralizes nutrients, and reduces odor. The resulting water can be used as crop fertilizer, returning the nutrients to the land. He also developed a plan to reverse land desertification by creating aquaculture ponds aided by bioaugmentation to build large volumes of ?microbial soup? which would then be used to irrigate the soil and replenish the microbiome. This concept was recognized by the 2019 Terraton Challenge competition run by Indigo Ag, a company committed to developing technologies to improve environmental sustainability. Bill was also an artist. The beautiful and unique paintings that Bill created fill the houses of his family members with treasured art. He painted in different styles, but his passion was a method he created himself and called ?controlled flow painting?. His controlled flow paintings were exhibited at St. Michael?s College in Winooski Vermont in March of 1978. Bill and Jennifer enjoyed many years of adventuring on their motorcycle: a Honda Goldwing. They travelled long and far to places such as Novia Scotia, Arizona, and California. They had helmets with microphones so they could talk to each other along the way. They rode through good weather and bad, sheltering from rain under bridges and keeping foul weather gear always handy. Their relationship reflected these trips. Foul weather gear was rarely needed there, but they managed differences with acceptance and good will, and were extraordinarily close. He was often quiet, a man of few words. But his words were worth waiting for. When Bill spoke, he might come out with a brilliant analysis of the situation at hand, a pearl of fatherly wisdom, a bit of rapier wit, or a corny pun. He made friends and learned people?s life stories wherever he went: at his church, the Channing Memorial Church in Newport, the farmers in the Midwest, his roommate during a rehab stay after a hospitalization, the nurses in the hospital (whom he always referred to as angels of mercy). Though he had many physical ailments at the end of his life, Bill rarely complained. His usual response to ?how are you?? was ?hanging in?. He wanted to engage with people, to hear their stories, to express his love for his family, rather than to focus on his own suffering. He was deeply grateful for his close relationships with his family and he expressed his love freely and frequently. We were with him until the end of his life and we cherish every moment we had with him. Our lives have been enriched with his wit, his gentleness, his passion, his art, and most of all, his love. "