Bill Willis, my dear friend whose design of architectural details, decorative
motifs, fireplaces, furniture and lighting created the magical space of Rick's
Cafe, died this morning in Marrakech. Anyone tuning in on our webcasting
tonight will see our center table with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a single
glass. Rick's Cafe was Bill's last project and on his only visit after we
opened he said he looked at all his projects as children and he was very, very
proud of what we'd accomplished together. I can't feel that Bill is really
gone as so much of him is here in this magnificent house that is a restaurant
and also my home. From the beginning Bill and I agreed that the real Rick's
Cafe should have the elements of the film version, but more luxurious. For
instance, on every table in the film "Casablanca" there is a simple lamp with a
beaded lampshade. Plain as they are, the lamps are distinctive. Our beaded
table lamps he designed after a brass and enamel lamp that he pulled out from
behind the settee in his living room during one of our planning sessions. "I
brought this with me on the ferry when I arrived in Tangier in 1966!" So on our
tables you'll see pounded brass bases with a brass shade embedded with colored
glass and brilliantly colored beads. That's Bill's style. During one of our
"client lunches" at his beautiful home in Marrakech we talked design details
and at the same time Bill gave me recipes, including a verbal one for the best
Bloody Mary I've ever had. His deteriorating health coincided with a growing
reaction against the overdevelopment of Marrakech. After a visit, Bill's
draftsman Souliman was giving me a ride to the rail station. "Take Kathy on
the route so she can see that aberration near Bab Doukkala," were Bill's
orders. As we drove by 7 garish gray stone pillars, each that seemed to have an
already dying tree planted at the top, I wondered what could have possessed
anyone to think this would be a nice addition to Marrakech. Against the
uniform terra cotta of the Medina walls and almost every building, these were 7
sore thumbs. Shortly after this, about 2 years ago, Bill fell while walking in
his neighborhood. The stairs in his house of 22 rooms were fitted with special
rails, but very soon Bill confined himself to one level, his living room,
dining room bedroom/TV room. For the last year at least he received guests in
his bedroom, and in my last visit with him he spoke about the routine of this
with some delight. He enjoyed holding court, and I think really loved and
appreciated the attention he received from friends who came to visit. He had a
large screen TV and at least 6 remotes controlling various satellite decoders.
As we spoke and reminisced, we did so as he flipped from a tennis match to a
Wagnerian opera and back to tennis. I had my wine, he had his beloved Jack
Daniels, although he was more moderate at the end, a routine is a routine. He
recounted a story of getting his teeth cleaned, inquiring first of a local
French dentist if he could bring some equipment to the house and clean his
teeth. The dentist was aghast and said it was impossible. Bill then called a
Moroccan dentist, asked him the same question and he replied, "Of course I can
come, but can I bring my wife along too?" I prize this last visit with Bill,
it was last summer, before his stroke in September. I planned to go see him
Christmas week, and we settled on Tuesday, December 22. He said to call Monday
just to make sure he was in good shape. When I called Monday he sounded
congested, complained about the cold and said his bath water had turned cold
the night before giving him the chills and a cold. It would be best if I came
in January. I texted him a Happy New Year greeting and he called me New Year's
day. He asked about me, the restaurant, my son's wedding, he was looking
forward to the inauguration, there was no need to talk about how he was
feeling. His last words to me, "Now you're coming to see me in January, I love
you." "I'll come Bill, I love you." And then it was goodbye. |
