1967 GMC C15
BILLY’S
BITCH.
A truck. A lifetime of memories.
A tribute to Billy John.
IN MEMORY OF
WILLIAM JONATHAN KYLES JR.
“Billy John”
TOLD BY HIS NEPHEW, TIM
I found my passion through poverty.
As a child, my family was poor. My uncles, Brian and Billy John, were always fixing cars and trucks because we had no other option. I grew up with a very young mother, so I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and my uncles. Billy was only six years older than me, but he was my best friend, my role model, and my brother in every way that mattered. I always wanted to be like him.
Fast forward to when I was 16 years old. I was living with my grandparents and Uncle Billy, and we finally had a garage.
Billy and Brian bought a 1981 Camaro. I could go on for hours about the stories that came from that car, but the most important part is that all three of us built it together. Eventually, it became my first car. Truthfully, it was probably a 4 out of 10, but I loved it and every one of its thousand problems.
One detail made it unforgettable. A gentleman named Mitch had owned the car before us and had tastefully airbrushed “Mitch’s Bitch” across the rear spoiler.
Billy John was the baby of the family, and I was the baby of the baby. At the age of 45, Billy John passed away from a stroke. It broke our family’s heart and changed my life forever. He was my favorite person, period.
Today, he is a superhero in my eyes.
I am incredibly proud of the life he lived and the gift he gave after his death. Billy was an organ donor. Seven people received his organs, and one of them sent a letter to our family, which is included below.
A LIFE THAT LIVES ON
THE GIFT
HE LEFT BEHIND.
Remembering Billy John, and a letter from one of the people who received his gift of life.
Read a summary of the letter
Paula writes to Billy John’s family with sympathy for their loss and gratitude for his gift of life. She describes needing a heart and kidney transplant, struggling to move around her home, and spending five months in intensive care while waiting. After her transplant, she can walk and breathe without difficulty. She looks forward to life with her children, grandchild, siblings, and extended family, and thanks Billy John and his family for making that possible.
When someone passes away, people naturally want to hold on to something they owned. They want a keepsake or possession to help them remember. But that was never me, especially when it came to Billy. He would have been disappointed if I measured his life by his belongings. His cars and possessions never mattered to me because I already had something far more valuable: the memories.
We were always together. We were always having fun. Nobody else had the relationship with him that I did.
Because of that, I never asked for anything.
Recently, circumstances within the family brought attention to Billy’s prized 1967 C15. I would have loved to have the truck, but I stayed away from the drama. After a failed deal and plenty of family conflict, the truck was ultimately bestowed upon me and Tacot Garage.
I am incredibly grateful and emotional about this build.
I know Billy is cheering our team on from Heaven.
With a high probability that some people will frown upon this decision, I have only one response:
I don’t care what anyone thinks.
The truck will be named “Billy’s Bitch.”
The name will be hand-lettered across the tailgate.
I hope it offends people at first.
Then I hope they read this story.
I hope they learn who my uncle was, understand how amazing he was, and recognize the beautiful gift he gave on his way out of this world.
This truck is not about controversy. It is about honoring a man who meant everything to me.
William Jonathan Kyles Jr.
“Billy John”