Yesterday afternoon, my buddy EC and I received a message from Sandi with the heartbreaking news that Bill had passed away peacefully just a couple of hours earlier.
While it would be entirely accurate to call Bill Pauli our incredibly loyal, long-time client, he was, first and foremost, an extraordinary and deeply cherished friend.
No one knew Bill better than his wife, Sandi—who might, with a twinkle, add “long-suffering” to that title. Bill had a legendary ability to complain about anything and everything, but usually with a wink, a well-timed punchline, and an undeniable warmth that made you laugh even when you were the target. He was the funniest guy in any room, but more importantly, he had one of the kindest and most generous hearts to match.
When I first met Bill, I was the eager-to-please Junior Account Executive—the high-strung pup constantly knocking over his own water bowl. Bill, our primary client at Nissan, represented a staggering 75% of our agency’s billings. He was a big deal. Remember that famous moment in The Mary Tyler Moore Show when the gruff Lou Grant says to the ever-enthusiastic Mary “You’ve got spunk!” (Pause.) “I hate spunk!” That was us—sort of. Except Bill’s crankiness was always for effect. I think.
Bill was serious about his work, and he demanded excellence—rightly so, given that he was a brilliant writer and an impeccable editor. But he never took himself too seriously. He was the very best kind of client: one who held the agency and its people to the highest standards but did so with respect, encouragement, and unwavering support. And always—always—with humor.
Self-deprecating? Bill turned it into an art form. I’ll never forget the time he took the microphone at an event and waxed on with an eloquent tribute to our gracious hosts—“Len and Kendra.” Their names were Ken and Linda. For the next 40 years, that slip-up never stopped being funny to him. He’d double over in laughter every time we retold the story, tears streaming.
Our relationship was tested during the high-octane years when agency founder Bob Thomas gradually handed more responsibility to me. The signature moment came in tiny Grafton, Vermont, at a long-lead press event. Frazzled nerves, mounting pressure, and a catastrophic miscommunication culminated in Bill screaming at me, “You’re fired!” and me, equally unhinged, screaming right back, “You can’t fire me—I quit!” Two hours later, we were hugging it out, laughing through our tears, full of both shame and gratitude. We loved telling that story.
We traveled the world together in those early years, often heading to meetings with our parent client in Japan. But my favorite memory of Bill wasn’t from some far-flung destination. It was a Christmas Day spent at his home. I was single, and Bill simply wouldn’t hear of me being alone for the holiday. He insisted I join him, Sandi, and their little girl, Jennifer. That’s the kind of man he was.
All of us at Bob Thomas & Associates loved Bill Pauli. He was the best client—but an even better friend and a tremendous, positive influence on us all. And we will miss him, always.