Remembering Betty and Bill Wiley

This is the story of Betty and Bill Wiley, a story of love and commitment, of allegiance to family and friends, and, thankfully, dedication to Collegiate School and the folks who call it home.

 

The Wileys’ Collegiate connection runs deep. In 1972, they enrolled their son Andy in the 8th Grade. A year later, Betty came on board as secretary to the head of school (first Mac Pitt, then Rob Hershey) and remained in that role until she retired in 1995.

 

“Betty had everything organized and in hand,” said Dr. Raymond L. Spence, who served on the Board of Trustees from 1971 through 1993 and as chairman from 1982 through 1984. “She could also see the bright side of all the things that were happening at Collegiate. I always liked to see her. I always knew there would be peace and quiet and understanding. You could say things to her and get a response, and she was totally honest. If she didn’t agree, she did it in a nice way. There was nothing confrontational. She was the perfect secretary for Buck Pitt, because if somebody misunderstood him, which happened sometimes, she’d know exactly what was on his mind.”

 

Bill Wiley played a role as well. He was an aeronautical engineer by training, but somehow, amidst his projects, responsibilities, and cutting-edge initiatives, he seemed always to be at school events, alongside Betty, supporting Andy.

 

Betty and Bill were nurturing parents whose home was a gathering place and safe haven. They were inveterate fans of the Green and Gold and remained so long after Andy graduated in 1977 and headed off to the University of Virginia. They were empathetic, loyal advocates for so many, then and always.

 

Andy is now a senior vice-president at BB&T Capital Markets. His wife Susan has been assistant to the head of school since 2000. Their sons Colscon ‘11 and Nash ’16 are alumni.

 

The Wileys’ journey began in Roanoke.

 

“She knew who he was,” Andy said of his parents’ first chance encounter in the school hallway, “but she didn’t know he even knew her name. That was it. They were middle school sweethearts, high school sweethearts.”

 

Upon graduation from Jefferson Senior High and with the Korean War brewing, Bill and many of his basketball teammates enlisted in the Marines and headed off to Camp Pendleton (CA) for boot camp. When he returned on leave, he and Betty got married. Shortly thereafter, he and his unit shipped out.

 

“We’re talking about a guy who got out of high school and then went to the Chinese Border with a gun in his hand,” Andy said. “He was pretty much the only one who came back.”

 

Soon, they headed for Daytona Beach, Florida, to begin their life together.

 

“My mom and dad wanted out of Roanoke,” Andy said. “They realized the only way they could do that was through education, so on the GI Bill, he went down to Embry-Riddle (Aeronautical University). My mom worked as a jack of all trades at Coral Gables Savings & Loan. She gave up college to support my dad in his efforts. How you go from being a country boy in Roanoke to fighting in a war to coming back and becoming an aeronautical engineer … it’s flabbergasting to me. I really still have a hard time getting my arms around it.”

 

Bill worked for a time for Texaco in Richmond.

 

“His group designed rocket engines and missile guidance systems for the Navy,” Andy said. “When he first went to work there, the ramjet engine was a big project of theirs.”

 

Ultimately, Texaco transferred him to New York City.

 

“At the time, supertankers were having a problem blowing up,” Andy continued. “He was to lead an international consortium of all the major oil firms and try to figure out why they were blowing up. They ultimately figured out that the scrubber they were using to clean them was building up some kind of static charge in the fuel tank.”

 

Though the work was fulfilling, traveling to the Chrysler Building in Manhattan from the family home in Westport, Connecticut, wasn’t the life Bill had envisioned or wanted.

 

“Being from Roanoke, my dad was basically a country boy and family man at heart,” Andy said. “The commute. The lifestyle. That didn’t work for him.”

 

So Bill and Betty returned to Richmond and enrolled Andy in James River Academy off Courthouse Road in Chesterfield County. The next year, he transferred to Collegiate.

 

“I’d been to five different schools before I got here,” he said. “When I came to Collegiate, it felt like we’d found home. It was an instantaneous feeling: Wow! This is it!”

 

When Andy attended James River, Betty served as assistant to the head of school, a post which prepared her well for the move to North Mooreland Road.

 

In her role, she was always diligent, thoughtful, polite, professional and unfailingly discreet. Her pleasant disposition, kind words and smiling countenance were often the introduction to Collegiate for guests, candidates interviewing for teaching positions or families interested in enrolling their children. If there’s truth to the adage, you get only one chance to make a first impression, rest assured that Betty Wiley left many great first impressions.

 

“I think of Betty as almost pixie-like in her position,” said Alex Smith, who served as vice president for development for four decades. “She always had a big smile and a lot of energy and greeted everybody who came in to see Mr. Pitt. She had a lot of energy and really enjoyed being part of Collegiate. She was somewhat the epicenter of everything that was going on.”

 

Betty and Bill retired to Nags Head where they’d spent many a vacation, often with a crew of Andy’s friends in tow. Bill enjoyed fishing for king mackerel from the pier, sharing the moments with the regulars who had no idea that this gentle, humble man had been a giant in his profession. Betty enjoyed simply hanging out with Bill and their family and soaking up the ambiance of the Outer Banks.

 

Eventually, age and infirmity took their toll. On April 11, 2015, Bill passed away. Betty left us this past May 3. Memories abound, of course, and those who knew Betty and Bill will not forget them.

        

The reason is simple.

        

“My mom used to tell me,” Andy said, “that the best thing you can do is just be nice to everybody. If you do, it’ll all work out.”