William Hall

William “Ike” Hall was one of those unique people that make life more interesting just by being alive. A colorful and rough n’ tough kind of man, he lived a life full of adventures, hard work and love for family. Although seemingly gruff on the outside, but with a warm heart on the inside, Ike gave his all for his family.

Many people today believe that times are tough, but in 1930, our country was in the depths of the Great Depression. People were without jobs and many families waited in long lines for perhaps their only meal of the day, a bowl of soup. Families banded together and returned to a simpler style of life in order to get through the hard times. For William and Rose (Galbraith) Hall, life in Kalamazoo, Michigan was filled with days of delight and new adventures as they welcomed the birth of their first child, son William, on December 13, 1930. He was the oldest of five Hall children. When he was just a baby, his aunt affectionately called him “Ike” and he came to go by it, rather than his given name.

Ike spent much of his younger years growing up in Butternut, Wisconsin, where his father owned a lumber mill. Not exactly your typical child, Ike liked to spend much of his leisure time playing with snakes, eating ants and making pets out of two black bear cubs from the nearby forest. Much to his mother’s dismay, he also took up chewing glass, a habit that stayed with him well into his adulthood, favoring the taste of beer glass the best. It wasn’t until he was in the eighth grade that they came back to Michigan, settling in Comstock. For education, Ike attended Smart School in Wisconsin and then the area schools in Comstock, graduating from Comstock High School in 1950.

Immediately after high school, Ike enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and after his tour of duty, returned home to help care for his family. He soon found work as an insurance adjuster with Shuring Agency and additionally drove a semi-truck. It wasn’t until later that Ike began doing what he really loved, which was being an electrician. In this trade, he worked for Hall Electric, Stanley Electric and R.W. Leet, before retiring in 1993. Proudly, Ike was the second of three generations as a member of the IBEW Local 131. He followed in his father’s footsteps, and later, Ike’s son Bill, would follow suit.

In the mid 1950s, Ike caught the eye of a pretty gal named Barbara Lesman. Although they had met at a football game in high school, it wasn’t until several years later that Barbara was able to tame this “ladies man” with stunning blue eyes. A rugged man would intimidate most girls, but Barbara admired Ike’s toughness, and fell in love with his gentle side. The two were happily married on July 4, 1959. They soon settled down to married life together in Comstock, where they would raise their three boys, Eric born in 1964, Bill in 1968, and Mike in 1970.

It was no secret that Ike was an excellent father. He loved his sons equally and unconditionally, and raised his boys to be boys, but also taught them to be gentlemen. Each night, they kissed and hugged their parents goodnight, and it didn’t take but a look from Ike if they happened to step out of line – that was punishment enough. The neighborhood kids knew to mind their manners around Ike too, for he didn’t allow cussing in front of ladies or scaring little kids with ghost and monster stories. When the boys were growing up, Ike and Barbara took them to Wisconsin every summer to do some fishing on Lake Holcomb and at Shady Rest, where Ike’s father had been a guide at the Flambou Flowage.

Even though Ike worked hard to support his family, he also found time to have fun. He and Barbara loved to dance and sing together, especially to his favorite singer, Frank Sinatra. Ike was also on a traveling bowling league and had the thrill of a 300 game he could add to his boasting list. It seems that wherever Ike was, there was some kind of excitement, adventure and humor involved. For instance, once he “borrowed” Barb’s brand new red convertible to hook up with some buddies to head to the Indy 500. No one knows for sure why, but they ended up in New York instead of Indianapolis. Ike had friends all over; perhaps because of his stature he was better a friend than a foe. His son described him as a respected “bad ass” – he was one tough man. Ike prided himself on his physical strength and wasn’t a bit disappointed he was unbeatable at arm wrestling. Although he wouldn’t start a fight, Ike had no problems finishing it. Some of Ike’s old stomping grounds where he could get himself in trouble included the Tap Room in downtown Comstock, and Dicken’s Inn, where the owners always asked “Are you going to behave tonight Ike?” In fact, Ike’s reputation was so well known at Dicken’s Inn the owners Florence and Freeman Edwards were worried when their daughter, Sandy, brought home her future husband and he turned out to be Ike’s middle boy, Bill. Even after he retired, Ike continued his shenanigans as part of a group of men called the “Knights of the Round Table.” They would meet at the Riverview Café, which became known to them as the “Dirty Café.” It’s hard to put a strong man down for even in Ike’s last few days in the hospital, he joked about getting all the nurses phone numbers and looked forward to calling them.

No matter where he went, Ike was always accompanied by his best friend, Cinder, his Labrador retriever. And like a good friend, Cinder was always watching Ike’s back and did everything he told him to do. In fact, one time at the Tap Room, Ike told Cinder to corner the bartender in the bathroom so that he and his buddies could have an open bar all night. Another of Ike’s fondest friends was his uncle, who was his deer-hunting partner. When his uncle died, Ike hung up his hunting rifle and called it quits. It just wasn’t the same without his friend.

Under all that rugged, tough man exterior, was also a big tender heart, which was only shown to his family. He took great pride in his sons and fully supported them in whatever they did. His precious grandchildren were the apples of his eye and he loved to give them lots of bear hugs and kisses. On the rare occasion that he was caught cooing at a baby, Ike, in his tough man voice, told the person who caught him “You didn’t see that.” It was said he was so tough on the outside, but a gentle loving man at heart. It is his incredibly kind heart that made him the man his family was proud to know. He will forever be missed, and always remembered.

William “Ike” K. Hall, age 74 of Comstock, MI, died on Thursday, March 10, 2005. He was preceded in death by his father in 1957, his mother in 1964, and one of his best friends, “Cinder”. Members of Ike’s family include his wife, Barbara Hall; his sons: Eric Hall, Bill and Sandy Hall, and Mike and Charity Hall; his grandchildren: Jessica, Skylar, Chad, Jake, Shane, Tyler, Hayley, Mercedas, Douglas and Analysa; his sisters: Gladys and Tom Zenzen, Rosann and Jack Mollohan and MaryLou Hall; his brother, Sammy Hall; his sister-in-laws: Wilma Fenwick, Alice and Jim Hanson, Jean Lesman, Margaret Sehy, and Bunny Christensen; his brother-in-law, Gary and June Lesman; many cousins, nieces, nephews, and friends of special mention, Marti Spencer and Don and Shirley Nance.

Learn more about Ike, view his Life Story film, and visit with his family and friends on Sunday, March 13, from 2-4 p.m. and 6-8 p.m. at the RDMG Life Story Funeral Home, Portage Chapel. A Life Story funeral service will be held at 11 a.m. on Monday, March 14, at the same location. Please visit Ike’s memory page at www.lifestorynet.com where you may archive a favorite memory, order flowers or make a memorial contribution to the Ike Hall’s Grandchildren’s Education Fund.