William L. Tischler, 76 years old, passed away on May 26, 2026, after a decade-long battle with prostate cancer. He was the beloved son of the late George Francis Tischler and Dorothy Tischler, the devoted father of William G. Tischler, and the brother of Christine Lovejoy of Stuart, Florida.
Known mostly as Billy or ‘Tish’ to those who knew him best, he brought an insatiable energy, spirit, humor, and warmth to this earth. He had a smile that seemed to come naturally, a restless curiosity that never faded, and a gift for turning ordinary days into something memorable. Billy was always moving, always looking, always noticing, and always finding something worth talking about. He could strike up a conversation with anyone and had a way of making people feel as if they had known him for years.
Billy grew up in Greenwich and graduated from Greenwich High School. He spent his career as a carpenter, following in the footsteps of his father, George, who was a builder of many homes throughout Greenwich. Alongside his father, and as part of a family line that reflected three generations of craftsmanship, Billy carried forward a remarkable legacy of skill, discipline, and pride in working with his hands. Carpentry was more than a trade for him, it was part of his identity. He understood wood, tools, structure, repair, and the quiet satisfaction of building something correctly. He had the eye of a craftsman and the resourcefulness of someone who believed that almost anything could be fixed, reused, improved, or made useful again.
That same practical instinct showed up everywhere in his life. Billy was the type of person who could never pass up a spare piece of wood, a useful tool, or something he thought might someday serve a purpose. His regular trips to the Holly Hill dump became part of his routine and part of his legend. He would go there twice a week, check out the library, talk to whoever was around, and often come home with spare pieces of 2×4 wood. To others, they may have looked like scraps. To Billy, they were future projects,
repairs, or possibilities.
Billy loved the outdoors deeply. He spent countless hours fishing, golfing, boating, bird watching, and walking through nature with the patience of someone who was never bored by the world around him. His car was always prepared for whatever the day might bring: binoculars, a tackle box, fishing rods, golf clubs, and a ball retriever were never far away. He was ready for a bird sighting, a fishing opportunity, a quick golf stop, or a walk through the woods at a moment’s notice.
He had a special affinity for birding and nature. Some of his favorite places included the Edith Read Wildlife Sanctuary at Playland in Rye, NY, Croton Point Park in Croton-on-Hudson for eagle watching, and Grass Island in Greenwich, where he would check whether the stripers were biting or the blues were running. He loved the movement of wildlife, the changing of seasons, the sound of birds, the pull of the water, and the small signs in nature that many people walk past without noticing. Whether he was watching a red-tailed hawk from the family property, scanning the sky with binoculars, or looking out toward the water in hopes of seeing fish break, Billy found excitement in observation.
His interest in military history and airplanes was another defining part of his life. He was fascinated by aircraft, their history, their movement, and their details. That fascination was best captured by his constant presence at Westchester Airport, where he would watch planes come in, write down tail numbers, and later look them up. For Billy, watching airplanes was not passive. It was active, curious, and precise. He noticed what
kind of plane it was, where it may have come from, where it might be going, and what made it interesting. That same habit followed him home to Bowman Drive in King Merritt Acres, where he could often be found outside in the background of family life, looking up to the sky as planes passed overhead.
Golf was one of Billy’s great joys and lifelong pursuits. He loved the game, the competition, the friendships, the challenge, and the quiet obsession that comes with trying to get better. He won the Men’s A Flight Club Championship at Doral Golf Club in back-to-back years in 2019 and 2020, an achievement that reflected both his skill and his love for the game. He also enjoyed playing in the Calcutta with Leon Murano, Frank Cipolla Jr., “Doc” Camillo, and Frank Carpinello. For Billy, golf was not only about score.
It was about the people, the walk, the stories, the shots, and the chance to be outside.
Yet perhaps his favorite golf-related activity was not tournament golf at all, but traversing the woods on the Doral Arrowwood property looking for golf balls. What began as a pastime became a true obsession. He would search through the woods with determination, patience, and the eye of a treasure hunter. At one point, there were more than 20,000 golf balls in the basement, many of which he would sell during the winter to various driving ranges throughout Westchester County. It was classic Billy: part outdoorsman, part golfer, part collector, part businessman, and fully committed once something captured his interest.
Billy loved summer. He loved the warmth, the long days, the pool, the yard, and the feeling of being outside from morning until night. Opening the pool each year became one of his seasonal rituals, even if that sometimes meant becoming the first one in after falling in while cleaning it. He loved driving around the Bowman Drive property in the golf cart, checking on the yard, watching birds, deadheading balloon flowers, hitting 50-yard pitch shots to the golf flag, and keeping an eye on everything that made the property feel alive.
He also had his own unmistakable summer style. His patented red Solo cup was rarely far away, whether filled with one of his Bloody Mary’s or his summer concoction of vodka, soda, and pineapple. That red Solo cup became part of the picture of Billy in his element: outside, smiling, moving around the property, talking to people, watching the sky, tinkering with something, or simply enjoying the day.
The family home on Bowman Drive was central to Billy’s life. It was where his memories, habits, humor, routines, and family history lived together. It was where he could be seen looking up at planes, watching birds, working around the yard, maintaining the pool, practicing golf shots, or riding the golf cart from one part of the property to another. It was a place that reflected much of who he was: practical, lively, outdoors, familiar, and full of stories.
Billy was a man of habits, humor, and unmistakable character. He talked to everyone.
He noticed everything. He found joy in wood, tools, birds, airplanes, golf balls, fish, flowers, pools, summer weather, and the company of people. He had a rare ability to stay curious about life. His energy was constant, his spirit was generous, and his
presence filled the spaces around him.
Billy is survived by his son, William G. Tischler, and his sister, Christine Lovejoy of Stuart, Florida. He will be greatly missed by his family, his friends, and all who knew him.
His family would like to extend sincere thanks to those from Alvita Care, especially Athelea, for the care, compassion, and support they provided over the past year and a half as Billy transitioned to Atria Senior Living, just up the street from his childhood home. Their presence helped bring comfort, stability, and dignity during an important chapter of his life.
The family would also like to thank Billy’s childhood best friend, William Frenz, whose presence in Billy’s life remained deeply meaningful. Their friendship began in childhood and endured through the years, and William’s loyalty, support, and steady presence helped make Billy comfortable these past few years. His kindness will never be forgotten.
Billy will be greatly missed, but his family takes comfort in knowing that he is now in a better place with both of his parents. His spirit will remain in every summer day, every plane overhead, every bird in the distance, every walk through the woods, every golf ball found where no one else thought to look, and every story told by those who loved him.
10-4, pal. See you again one day.