We were saddened to learn of the death of our classmate, William H. "Bill" Climo, Lt. Col. USMC on June 12, 2009 at Hilton Head, NC.

Bill is survived by his wife, Tina Climo; brothers Donald and James; children Michael, Brian, Kevin, Katherine; step-children Kevin and Joe, and seven grandchildren.

We extend to them our heartfelt condolences.

Condolences to Bill's family may be sent to: Tina Climo, 30 Nightingale Lane, Bluffton, SC 29909

Classmates wishing to append personal statements, photos and recollections below, send an e-mail to Webmasters, by clicking here.

OBITUARY

William Harold Climo, Jr., 69, of Sun City Hilton Head died Friday, June 12, 2009 at the Hilton Head Hospital.

He was born in Winthrop, MA and travelled extensively, residing in Oklahoma, North Carolina, California, Maryland, Hawaii, Virginia, and Colorado before moving to the Hilton Head area in 2005. He was an avid skier and golfer.

Bill graduated from Wakefield High School and received his B.A. in Economics from Dartmouth College, and a Masters degree in Management Systems from the University of Southern California.    He was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps and served several tours in Vietnam.

Bill is survived by his wife Tina Climo; brothers Donald & James (Alpharetta, GA); children Michael (Richmond, VA), Brian (Ft. Lauderdale, FL), Kevin (Ft. Lauderdale, FL) Katherine (Jersey City, NJ); step-children Kevin (Colorado Springs, CO) and Joe (Chicago, IL); and seven grandchildren.

A memorial service will be held at the Lowcountry Presbyterian Church, Bluffton on Saturday, June 27 at 11am.  He will be interred at Arlington National Cemetery on Tuesday, August 25th, 2009 at 9:00 am.   In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Hospice Care of the Lowcountry, 119 Palmetto Way, Blufton, SC 29910.

FRED COOK REMEMBERS

Bill and I both attended Dartmouth as NROTC scholarship students. We selected the option to serve our post-college military obligation as U.S. Marines, along with Chuck Preuss, Terry Bentley and several others.

During our sophomore summer all NROTC students were required to spend six weeks on military training and familiarization, three weeks in Little Creek, Virginia learning about USMC amphibious warfare, and three weeks in Corpus Christi, Texas learning about Naval aviation.

I had somehow connived to drive my car to Little Creek, probably being paid by the government to do so instead of receiving a travel voucher. We had a wonderful time at Little Creek for 3 weeks, as I'm sure our Dartmouth contingent can attest. We rented a house at Virginia Beach for our three free weekends. We would roam the beaches on Saturdays telling all good-looking girls we ran across about this fabulous party taking place that evening at [whatever our beach house address was], and then just go back to the house and wait for them to come by.

When our three weeks in Little Creek was up, we were transported by military air to San Antonio for our three weeks with Naval air. I left my car in Virginia Beach, parked on a street leading to the beach.

At the end of our tour of the US Naval Air Station in Corpus Christi, we were given the choice of an airplane ticket back to our home for the rest of our sophomore summer or a check for $200-$300 if we wanted to get from Corpus Christi to our home on our own.

Both Bill Climo and I more time than money so we decided to pocket the cash and hitch-hike from Corpus Christi back to Virginia Beach where I had left my car.

I was a tough slough hitch-hiking through Texas and the deep South in late summer of 1960. We marveled at the cars passing us with their windows closed until we learned that cars had air conditioning in the South at that time. We were undecided whether our chances were better getting picked up if we were in uniform or civilian clothes, so we tried it both ways. One time we were dying of heat on the road and got picked up by a nice young couple who had a cooler of beer in the back and asked us if we'd like one. I'll always remember their kindness.

After 3 or 4 days (maybe more) we made it to Virginia Beach, rescued my car, spent a few days trying to recapture the magic of three weeks earlier (to no avail), and drove north to end our summer of 1960 and begin our junior year.

I got to know Bill pretty well hitch-hiking through the South in summer of 1960, and then we lost touch until I saw him at the finish line of the U.S. Marine Corps marathon in Washington many years later.

I send these memories to our classmates and to his family with my condolences.

Semper fi, Bill.

Fred Cook