Howard B. Hillman

Howard and I were classmates at Bucknell, and we lived in the same dorm sophomore year, one floor apart. Late in the spring that year, he found me working hard in the lounge to prepare for finals. He came rushing into the room and asked, "What are you doing? You should be out in the sunshine, enjoying life, man! Let´s go!" Well, he rushed me out, gave me a helmet, and put me on the back of his motorcycle! We spent the next four hours riding together, all around the Poconos. In between bouts of laughter and total silence, I almost tipped us over a few times. He told me to let go, relax, and feel like I was a part of the machine. I figured it out finally, and it was intense. Then, we stopped for some ice cream, and then came back. He turned and asked me what I thought about the trip, and all I could say was "Amazing!" It was that kind of impetuous, energetic and inspiring person Howard was as long as I knew him. You really felt alive when you were with him, and he taught me how to live a whole life in one moment of time. I never forgot that day, and I still remember that deep, husky laugh and those impish, twinkling eyes that were his trademark. He lived life to the fullest at every moment, and I shall always remember that day when I stepped outside of myself to see the world as a new and vibrant place to be. Thank you, Howard, for helping me to grow into a better person. You showed me how to see the best part of myself. Keep a smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes, and fly with the angels.

After so many years, I finally found this page. I loved Howard very much. He and I had met at an audition for the Bucknell Jazz and Rock Ensemble at Bucknell University in 1980. I was a senior, he, a freshman. Neither of us made lead vocalist; however, we became very close friends, partners in crime as they say, spending much time singing just for the fun of it, driving many dirt and paved roads in his Toyota, dancing as patron members of the Black Student Union, laughing and talking late into the night about how we would change the world. Unfortunately, after I married the wrong man in 1986, he and I lost touch. I tried to find him, but by the time I found out anything about his whereabouts, he was already gone. Yet Howard is still with me whenever I sing to audiences, especially those in shelters. He is standing beside me, smiling brightly and adding a few extra notes of harmony. I have never met a more beautiful man, inside and out. God bless you, Howard. I'll see you in the next life.

What a nice person. I wish I had half the class. He was so warm and considerate.

My best friend and the true love of my life then, now, and forever. I miss you, your laugh, and your hugs with all of my heart and soul Howard. Until we meet again, you are an angel surrounding those you loved.

In 1983, I remember when they had an edition of The Bucknellian with anonymous messages from students. Only a few were printed and most of them had nicknames or just first names. But one girl wrote something like, Wow! I just met you last week for the first time. Howard Hillman, where have you been all my life?! When someone is tall, good looking, forthright, well spoken, looks you in the eye, and smiles, it makes an impression. That was Howard. He was also an editor with The Commentary. When I was stuck on how to end my article on Timothy Learys on campus lecture, I asked him for help. He wrote the last line on the spot, like a wiz.

Lauren? Dean? Can you tell me what happened?
[email protected]

I would be thankful if someone could let me know about Howard's life after Bucknell and what caused his passing.

Have often wondered what became of Howard. We lost contact long ago. He was one of my favorite people from our shared time at Bucknell.
I "googled" him this evening and found the sad news of his passing.
The gentleman who wrote in the guestbook ahead of me did a great job of describing the magic that was Howard. Indeed, his warm smile, his mischievous eyes, his sense of adventure, and his ability to make one feel special were amazing.
We shared many uplifting conversations and a few small adventures.
I can still hear you singing "Duke of Earl".
Saddened that our paths will not cross again on Earth. Perhaps someday.

When I think of Howard, and I certainly still do think of him, the first adjective that comes to mind is "gregarious." Howard had an endless fascination with humanity and traveled in a lot of intriguing circles during his life. He had friends from all over and he treasured each one of those people as someone meaningful to him.

The next adjective that comes to mind is "attentive." Howard may have had an enormous circle of friends, but when he was with you, that was his focus. To me, that was what made his personality that much more magnetic and dynamic. Howard's almost innate ability to make you feel like the center of attention while he was with you created a very special bond that gave you a sense you were his long time pal, even if you had only known him a brief while, and made you feel like a best friend if you knew him for as many years as I did.

And of course, the other adjective that comes to mind is "adventurous." It's no secret to anyone that knew him that Howard was something of an adrenaline junkie - his figurative and literal free-wheeling style guaranteed that time spent with him would be memorable. But more, HBH Jr's "encouragement" to push you out of your comfort zone, just a little bit, (or sometimes a whole lot!) made for some surprising circumstances and only heightened that level of excitement. Time spent with Howard was never dull, and you never wanted to disappoint him, so, by his request, you might have found yourself doing a whole lot of things you never would have considered on your own!

So many stories packed into that all too short life, and the moments and memories are treasures. In some ways, it feels like he's still here, just off on another adventure. And really, who could prove that wrong?