William Craddock

He was a voracious reader, a nature lover and a hard-core motorcyclist who appreciated even the simplest things in life. But most of all, William Craddock will be missed by those who knew him.

Craddock, 57, died peacefully at 9:30 a.m. on March 16 in the arms of his wife, Teresa, to Charlotte Church's "Lord's Prayer" playing softly in the background in their Santa Cruz home.

"It was the most beautiful thing," she says. "He looked at me, took three breaths and that was it."

A Los Gatos native, Craddock spent a lot of time feeding his thirst for knowledge. With his mother, Camille, fostering his love for reading—he enjoyed Grimm's Fairy Tales, stories by Hans Christian Andersen and the Oz collection as a young boy—and his father nurturing his interest in history, Craddock would read everything he got his hands on, sometimes over and over.

"He read one book a night," Teresa says. "He consumed literature."

Even as a child, Craddock stayed up late reading comic books with a flashlight under the covers.

With his love for reading and words, Craddock developed another hobby—writing. While a student at Los Gatos High School, he wrote clever articles as a columnist for the Los Gatos Times Observer from 1963 to 1967. He then went on to write for The Good Times in Santa Cruz from 1974 to 1985. Apparently, writing for newspapers didn't satisfy his passion; he also published two books, Be Not Content and Twilight Candelabra.

Books were only one thing that kept Craddock up at night. He also took walks with Alex and Boomer, his two cats. And, at a certain point in his life when he lived with Teresa in a mansion atop Foster Road, he spent his nights building his own coffin—the one he is buried in—using no power tools but his own hands. Rebecca Lundberg, Teresa's sister, helped line the interior.

"He loved it," Teresa says. "He used to lay in it all the time."

He may have seemed like a tough guy for those who did not know him, given his attire. He often wore all black to match his 1940 Harley Davidson motorcycle, which he rode almost everywhere. But Craddock also had a compassionate soul, describes Teresa and his friend of 17 years, Linne MacKenzie. Not only did he have a deep respect for elders, he also connected to nature on several levels.

"He had total respect for all kinds of life. He wouldn't even hurt a bug," Teresa says.

MacKenzie, who last saw Craddock in June 2003, says she has many fond memories of her friend, but one in particular stood out. Several years back, she had a tumor that was growing on her neck that made her feel self-conscious about her appearance. One day, Craddock did something that made her feel otherwise.

"Billy was brushing my hair. As he made his way to my bangs, he kissed his finger and put it on my lips and said, 'you'll always be beautiful to me.' That meant a lot to me. Billy would give the shirt off his back if someone needed it."

Craddock, a simple yet carefree individual, liked peace and solitude. Avoiding phone and emails—he didn't even have a computer—Craddock corresponded with friends and family via handwritten letters that sometimes included hand-drawn cartoons.

Craddock is survived by his wife, Teresa; his mother, Camille; his sister, Diane; his sister-in-law, Rebecca Lundberg; his mother-in-law, Jacquie Thorne; and several relatives and friends.

Memorial services for Craddock were held on March 22 at Pacific Gardens Chapel in Santa Cruz. Those wishing to visit Craddock can do so at Soquel Cemetery, 3680 Old San Jose Road.