Bill Sears was born on March 28, 1911 in Aitkin, Minnesota.
At 18 months old his father took him to the Aitkin train station to pick up his
aunt. Bill’s wife, Marguerite, later wrote:
As Bill related the story
to me, he and his father stood hand-in-hand on the platform. Their ears perked
up at the sound of the whistle and they strained their necks as they watched
the train chug into sight and sigh to a stop.
Scanning the train, unsure from which car his aunt would
alight, the young lad's focus suddenly locked on a man looking out from one of
the exits. Ethereal in appearance, the stranger was
a vision in white: flowing ankle-length robe, turban, and long, snowy beard to
match. Never had the youngster seen anyone like him-not even in picture books.
Mesmerized by the sheer force of
the gentleman's presence, the child stood stock still for a few moments, then
tugged excitedly at his father's coat, in an unsuccessful attempt to draw his
attention to the object of his fascination. But his father's immediate and sole
concern lay with the aunt. Her arrival had gone unnoticed by the child whose
gaze had not wavered from the sight of the unusual personage to whom he seemed
magnetically drawn. The spell broke with the next blow of the whistle.
