by Lee “Snapper” Marshall
In the fall of 1969, I strolled into my fraternity house on a Sunday morning ready to play flag football for our DU Intermural Team. Hung over as I normally was back in those days, I spotted a box of assorted donuts sitting on the plank of bowling alley that served as our House’s living room table and quickly changed direction to capitalize on the moment. As I downed a glazed donut I noticed a 35mm Olympus camera with a telephoto lens resting beside the box. Curious, I picked up the camera, put the viewfinder to my bloodshot eye and strolled out through the sliding glass doors onto the rear balcony taking in the panorama that was ol’ Aztec Bowl.
A voice startled me from behind—Bill Stenquist’s voice: ‘You interested in photography’, he asked. Turns out Stinky, a pledge of about two weeks, had come to take pictures of our flag football game and had brought the donuts over as a pledge chore heaped upon him by one of the actives. In the time it took to walk to the football field behind Petersen Gym, Stinky managed to teach me the rudiments of still photography, then promised me a 15% discount on my first camera if I bought it from his father’s shop in San Jose. How could a Brother refuse?
That day marked the first day of a 41-year friendship that included more memories than I can almost recount. College parties. Post-college parties. The races at Del Mar every July. The Founders’ Day picnics every November. The annual DU golf tournaments every spring. A birthday party here. A poker party there. Stinky never met a card game he didn’t like—or couldn’t win—and traveled from all the way from San Francisco to get to most of them. I asked him once where he found the energy to travel 500 miles to attend fraternity parties. We were his friends, he smiled. Where else would he be?
For all of us who partied with Bill in college and in the years that followed, there is nothing in the memory bank but a wealth of humorous anecdotes. Bill could tell jokes better than most stand-up comics, and do so while breaking 80 on a golf course. To that point, Bill met me at Spy Glass near Pebble Beach in 1985 to play two days of golf. I was not in Bill’s league when it came to the grand old game, mostly because of a severe slice at the time I just couldn’t shake. I’d gone and bought a new club guaranteed to correct it—the Orazaba Power Pod—and while the club looked like a half-a-grapefruit on the end of a stick, I must say I’d been hitting them pretty straight that morning on the driving range before heading for the first hole—all 610 yards of it. When Stinky saw me take the club from the bag, he laughed so hard he almost choked on his cigar. As I stepped up to the tee I must’ve taken a good 30 seconds to set myself. Failing to contain his laughter, Bill finally asked me if I was going to swing the club or date it. I laughed as I swung, duck-hooking my ball into the forest lining the hole. My score that day was in the hundreds—the highest score I ever shot. When it was over Stinky approached me. ‘If you promise to never use that club again I’ll buy you dinner’, he chuckled. I nodded. Bill paid.
Three years later, in 1988, my wife Denise was nine-months pregnant with our second daughter as my 40th birthday approached. Her girl friends wanted to throw her a shower (or so I was told) so we packed up the car and headed down to San Diego. DU bro Bobby McCausland and I went to the movies while our wives were at “the shower.” Later that afternoon, we headed into Fat City, a rather hip San Diego eatery back in day, to catch up with the ladies. Mac went to find the girls while I waited at the bar. Suddenly, there was Bill Stenquist heading my way boasting a tuxedo top, sweatpants bottoms and tennis shoes, toting two greyhounds, one in each hand. I was stunned—not just because of the garb he was wearing, but because he was there at all. What was Billy Stenquist doing at my wife’s baby shower, I asked incredulously? ‘What baby shower’? Stinky grinned as he handed me my drink. ‘I came to celebrate your birthday’.
William Alan ‘Stinky’ Stenquist, our friend and Brother, passed away in his sleep on Wednesday evening, September 8th, in San Diego, California. Speculation by police detectives was that Stinky had an asthma attack sometime during the night and couldn’t reach his inhaler in time. Bill would’ve celebrated his 60th birthday this coming December 20th, and leaves behind the apple of his eye, daughter Andrea, a senior Finance Major at his alma mater San Diego State.
Andrea has arranged a Memorial Service for her dad on Sunday, October 24th, at KATE SESSIONS PARK in Pacific Beach, at 2PM. Stop by and raise a glass to a friend and Brother who left us far too soon. Casual dress is of course preferred–Stinky wouldn’t have had it any other way. For those unable to attend, thoughts and sentiments can be sent to Andrea at: 1843 Missouri Street / Pacific Beach / CA / 92109. You can also sign Bill’s online guest book at the Contra Costa Times Website.
As Jimmy Tagle, another DU Brother and close friend of Bill’s wrote to tell me a few weeks back… ‘Godspeed, Billy Stenquist. We’ll see you on the other side’.
