Meet Bill.
Bill Cropley is too good for Friendship Manor. At least, that’s what he
thought five and a half years ago.
“I looked at this place and I said, ‘I don’t think so.’ My ego’s too big, I’m
not going to live in this poor person’s decrepit ex dormitory,” he laughed.
Now 77, Bill has fully embraced his Friendship Manor lifestyle – and he’s
happy he did. He’s even paid extra to install hardwood floors in his pristine
two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment.
“I’m very happy being here because when I was married, my wife did
all the cooking. One of the most important things about being here is I
get fed,” he said.
Bill appreciates the freedom afforded to residents at Friendship Manor.
While he enjoys the range of activities the facility offers, he keeps himself
quite busy in his own time. He takes walks with his friends in the area and
heads to the University Club of Santa Barbara on a weekly basis to
play bridge.
"I looked at this place and I said, 'I don't think so.'"
One of his favorite activities is grabbing smoothies at Blenders in the Grass each weekend, a popular spot among UCSB students.
Bill’s prized possession is the 1927 yellow Bugatti. He purchased and restored the banana-like vehicle alongside fellow resident George Ruben. On the weekends, he and George take turns driving the two-seater through town.
There’s no shortage of honks and waves when they do.
As with Friendship Manor, Cropley never intended to move out to California. He grew up in Ohio in the 1960s, where he attended Miami University – the “farthest he could get away from home while staying in state.”
Right after graduation, he married his high school sweetheart, who’d transferred to Miami University because she thought Crowley was having “too good a time.”
Cropley then served in the Air Force for two years and worked briefly as a bank teller before starting a career at International Business Machine Corporation (IBM). It was this company that brought him to San Jose, California for the first time. “I drove to the airport in a blizzard. I didn’t even know how to spell [California],” he joked.
Within six months, Bill and his wife had sold their home and moved out to California with their 18-month old. After staying with IBM for seven years, he worked at various computer companies for the next 28 years before retiring at 60 years old. He and his wife divorced in 2016, but still get along just fine.
“She knows if she needs something, she can call and I’ll help her out,” he said.
Travel was always an interest of Bill’s, although he didn’t do much of it until retirement. But when his daughter Carrie decided she wanted to adopt two girls from Africa, Crowley spent seven weeks with her in Ghana.
What followed was a lifelong fondness for Africa. Bill returned there quite regularly in his retirement; in 2019, he lived there every other month of the year.
He began doing construction work at the village his granddaughters were from. He started building houses, which led him to meet a woman who wanted to construct a library. The village had no books.
“I said, ‘Okay, I’ll help you.”
"The village had no books."
Bill learned what he could about construction from the internet and got working. He taught the young men in the village how to use power tools, patching the holes in the roof and building bookshelves. After that, the woman wanted to build an orphanage. Each time he went back, Bill would work on different parts of the project.
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He began dating someone in Africa. That is, until he also started dating someone back in the United States.
“She put a kibosh on Africa real quick, which is rightfully so, she was rightfully so,” he laughed.
Nowadays, Bill spends as much time as he can with his family. Both of his kids – Carrie and Jason – have taken a liking to teaching. He tells me that Jason, now a school teacher, connects with kids in a really unique way. His schedule also allows him to be “travel junkie,” Bill said.
“Even his three-day President’s weekend, he went to Costa Rica,” Bill said.
His daughter Carrie is now the Dean of Communications at Santa Barbara City College. Before that, her academic work has taken her all over the world. After getting her Ph.D, she took a job with the University of Colorado and took 90 students abroad internationally. Upon travelling to Rwanda, Africa, she decided to adopt two girls.
Now 17 and 15, Bill’s quite proud of his granddaughters. The oldest just graduated from Santa Barbara High School, and the youngest is on her way to becoming a professional tennis player.
“[The older one] can’t wait to move out of the house, which I can understand, I felt the same way,” he told me.
When COVID hit, Carrie was adamant about cutting off physical contact with the girls’ grandparents for safety purposes. But now, he heads over every Thursday night to eat dinner and watch Survivor.
While the family’s away in Florida for a tennis tournament, Bill’s received some very clear instructions: not to watch Survivor without them.
"She had more friends than anyone I've ever known."
Bill sees no reason to leave Friendship Manor anytime soon. The place has given him a community of his own, while still in close proximity of family.
Several years ago, Bill moved his mother from a retirement home in Ohio to a place in California. She’d take the train from Santa Ana, where his brother lived, to visit Bill in Santa Barbara.
“That was kind of challenging, because I could see her health deteriorating. But I was glad she would come up and visit,” he said.
Bill learned a lot from his mother – just not how to cook, he says.
But he’s certainly picked up some cues on how to socialize. He’s a
popular face at Friendship Manor. Just ask his tight-knit group of fun
and caring friends.
“Hell, we’re too old to be concerned about a lot of stuff that we were
concerned about when we were younger.”
Bill’s even begun dabbling in marijuana since moving to the Manor,
a fairly new experience for him. It took him a while to
get the hang of it, though. Smoking the usual way turned out to be
a big mistake – he started coughing and couldn’t stop.
“I said, ‘Here, you take this pipe, you take this marijuana
back!’” he said.
Since then, Bill’s stuck with marijuana gummies and cookies.
“I just like to take it,” he laughed. “I don’t need excuses.”
