Bill’s Story

William “Bill” Francis Gunderson Jr. was an influential educator, devoted father, fisherman, and celebrated calligrapher, known for his creativity and commitment to community. Born on June 27, 1928, in Astoria, Oregon, he graduated from Astoria High School in 1946, where he served as student body president. Following high school, Bill joined the U.S. Army and was deployed to Japan with the occupation forces, achieving the rank of sergeant. After his honorable discharge, he pursued a degree in education with a focus on art at the Oregon College of Education in Monmouth.

Bill began his teaching career in St. Helens before accepting a position in Astoria, where he would spend 37 years inspiring students as both an elementary and high school art teacher. He retired in 1988, leaving behind a legacy of fostering creativity and unconventional thinking among his students. Outside the classroom, Bill’s love for fishing, instilled by his father, a well-known commercial fisherman, remained a significant part of his life. Even as health issues curtailed his active participation in fishing, he maintained a deep respect for the fishing community.

A pivotal influence in Bill’s artistic journey was his friendship with Lloyd Reynolds, Oregon’s Calligrapher Laureate. Their relationship transformed Bill’s understanding of calligraphy, leading him to become one of the Northwest’s most respected calligraphers. He published My Dear Runemeister, a collection of his correspondence with Reynolds, showcasing the profound impact this mentor had on his life and work. Bill also co-authored a book with Charles Lehman, titled: The Calligraphy of Lloyd J. Reynolds: A Contemporary American Writing Master. 

Lloyd taught Bill about weathergrams, small poems written on strips of kraft paper that are meant to be hung out in nature in the elements. Throughout his later years, Bill dedicated himself to creating weathergrams, producing thousands that were shared with friends and family across the globe, including far-flung places like Tibet and Baghdad. His daughter Dana recalled that for the last decade of his life, weathergrams became his driving force.

She said: “He wrote 2,000 weathergrams for an event in Portland. He wrote them until he died. His hand was so practiced that he didn’t need to see to write. When I was inventorying and cleaning out his house, I found weathergrams everywhere. There must have been 1,000 weathergrams from every part of his life.”