Bill Chatelier was born in Harihar, India, to parents William and Dulcie, and grew up during turbulent times. He carried vivid memories of his childhood: listening to Gandhi address a crowd, visiting a zoo run by a schoolfriend’s father—where that same friend casually climbed into a cage to pet the tigers—and a puppy scratch that left another friend with rabies, sparking a lifelong caution around dogs abroad. Despite what some might call a remarkable absence of health and safety, Bill thrived, completing an apprenticeship before joining the Merchant Navy.

His years at sea opened his eyes to the world. He saw post-war Japan struggling in devastation, the terrible realities of segregation in the Americas Deep South, and an under-populated Australia so eager for workers that officials encouraged him to “jump ship.”

In his mid-twenties, Bill did just that—landing in Wales then boarding a train to London to stay with relatives. With jobs plentiful in those days, Bill soon found work. His aunt felt a young and energetic Bill was a bit too fond of the London nightlife and was leading their son astray. This prompted his family to wave him off to Wavertree, where he settled with another set of relatives, the Cannons.

Bill put his engineering skills to use at Cammell Lairds, commuting to work on his scooter. It was at this time he met his future wife, Stella. Stellas father, unimpressed by Bill’s employer, greeted him steely-eyed and gruffly pronounced: “I’ve seen what they write on the toilet walls at Cammell Lairds.” Bill promptly moved on to English Electric—where, presumably, the graffiti was more refined.

He later joined Otis Elevators, beginning as a draftsman before becoming a scrutineer. Lifts became something of a passion for Bill, though in his early days at Otis, his work was not confined to elevators. On one memorable occasion, the company was asked to devise a guillotine-style security solution to protect the Crown Jewels. As the only man in the department with a French surname, Bill was handed the task—on the tongue-in-cheek assumption that guillotines were “in his blood.”

Bill retired from Otis with great affection for his colleagues and the friendships he had made.

He and Stella raised one son, Colin, and were later blessed with two grandchildren, Nathan and Squids. Bill’s love of travel endured throughout his life. He visited Australia, staying with in-laws Hilda and John, where he developed a passion for golf and even devised his own twist on Monopoly—teaching their grandchildren never to borrow from a shady adult, who would most certainly be asking for interest once they passed "GO". Other journeys took him across Europe, Morocco, Egypt, Singapore, and back to India, where he retraced his youth with Colin, from the church where he was christened to the school where he was evacuated during the war.

After Stellas passing in 2005, Bill became very close to his neices Eileen and Pat who he often described as the daughters he'd never had. They enriched his life, put a smile on his face and generally made a terrific fuss of him.

A man of faith, Bill held a deep belief in God and cherished the fellowship of his friends at St Luke’s.

Bill passed away at Aintree Hospital on the 8th of August after a short illness, surrounded by his family who miss him dearly.

God bless.