by Tony Kay
The passing of William Kennedy—gentleman, scholar, longtime Scarecrow patron, and one of Seattle’s most dedicated cineastes—represents an irreplaceable loss to Seattle’s film scene.
Bill’s presence during indie theater screenings was as ubiquitous as it was welcome. With his bright eyes, genial smile, professorial wardrobe, and a different book seemingly surgically attached to his hand every time I saw him, he felt (in his own humbly low-key way) damn near iconic to me. He was also my friend, and I miss him sorely.