If Bill Abbas kept a tally of how many Waterloo Black Hawks and Waterloo Bucks players he billeted, that stat has been lost to history. As an accountant, keeping track of numbers was Abbas' profession.  

Yet for the players who stayed with him seven months at a time, the experience added up to something that's tough to quantify.
 
"Bill was a big part of Waterloo for the baseball guys and the hockey guys," said former Hawks forward Scott Pavelski, who settled into Abbas' home in 2008/09. 

"It can't be done without people opening their homes and bringing in strangers, and Bill was one of the best at it. I'm sure over the years he had kids that weren't the best to bring into your home, but it never stopped him from trying again with somebody else, so it just spoke to his character to keep believing and helping out the community."

Abbas died in April at age 83. His passing stirred several Hawks alumni to reflect on the time they spent at Abbas' rustic home in the Cedar Heights neighborhood.

"All the guys knew him, and they wanted to come over to our house to hang out there," recalled Tyson Fulton, who was a Black Hawk as the team struggled through 2010/11 season. "We had a lot of ups and downs, a lot of guys coming in and out. I would say the living part, for me, made it easier to get through and be able to perform at my best."

Brock Montpetit spent two prior winters in the Abbas household.  The setting among the trees and in close proximity to Hartman Reserve felt just like home for the Somerset, Wisconsin, native.

"It was in the middle of the woods," remembers Montpetit. "I come from small town Wisconsin, so I currently live in the middle of the woods now. But for being a Waterloo-Cedar Falls area home, it was tucked back in there pretty far. It was very regular to look out the back window and see deer in [Bill's] backyard. He loved to feed the deer and watch wildlife and take care of his property.

"It was a very cool spot."

Pavelski – also a Wisconsin native – also immediately appreciated the unexpected surroundings.

"You're going down one or two back roads in Waterloo, and then all of a sudden you're in the middle of the woods," Pavelski says. "It was definitely peaceful. You didn't have the extra noise around. There were only one or two neighbors, so it was a great home."

Inside, the players found the space they needed to adjust to life in junior hockey and away from home. The big living space featured a loft where the billeted skaters and visiting teammates could relax. Abbas would settle in across the way watching Wheel of Fortune or cooking competition shows on the Food Network. With their host's tendency toward an early bedtime, it was typical for the night owl players to have a lot of late-night hours on their own.

However, dinnertime was never one of those occasions.

"He loved to cook, loved to take care of the players, but that was also his time to bond," says Montpetit, noting, "After and before dinner, we could go do our own thing and be kids and have fun.

"Dinner time was his time to shine… it wasn't just frozen meals he was making. He was making meals from scratch almost every single day and really looked forward to us sitting down and just talking. When I think of Bill, it would be connecting with him over food he was making."

Even Montpetit's mom was impressed.  She was on hand for Thanksgiving dinner one fall, and Montpetit remembers her describing Abbas' holiday meal as one of the best she'd ever had.

Fulton – who described himself as a 'health freak' during his playing days – appreciated both the meals and the table talk.

"He was always there to support us. He was always asking us how we were doing…We'd always have dinner together, you know, and it was more of like a friendship almost. [Less] like a parent figure, more of a mentor."

Pavelski added, "He wouldn't pry into your personal life…He would be there for the conversation, but he would never push it one direction or another. He'd just, kind of, look at you- smile sometimes - and probably have his own thoughts [he kept to himself]…He was a good therapist that way."

Players like Fulton appreciate their experience even more in hindsight.

"The freedom we had at Bill's was different. There were still rules, but you could grow up a little bit and make your own choices. I mean it was like a college freedom lifestyle."

Abbas also set an example which resonates with Montpetit when he reflects on Abbas' legacy.

"I think about just how selfless of a guy he was. I don't think it's something you notice when you're 18-years-old, 19-years-old, living in Waterloo. You're there focusing on hockey.  You're kind of a selfish 19-year-old kid who doesn't notice that stuff."

Montpetit offers this advice to young players joining a junior hockey roster and stepping into life with a host family today.

"Moving in with somebody else, they're literally opening their home to you - a stranger - and trusting that you are a good kid just because you play on their local junior hockey team. So you have to go in and have the utmost respect with their family - or if they're like Bill and don't have a family - respect their home and their way of life."

Fulton picked up that thread: "It's going to be different…Just be ready for the change and lean on guys that have played before you, people that have played juniors. It takes time to adjust, and it is a little different, but it was probably one of the best years of my life, just being able to focus on hockey and living in that environment."

"You've just got to come with an open mind," added Pavelsi. "You're coming to work hard for hockey. There's going to be a community that you're not used to, a household that has different rules than what you probably grew up in, but try to be as respectful as you can…At the end of the day, just try to show up, be a good person, help each other out, and enjoy the ride because it goes quick."

Bill Abbas left a lasting impression on many of the players who spent a long season with him. It wasn't just the meals or the house in the woods. It certainly wasn't because he was an accountant. Instead, it was because Bill - like all good billets - was someone his players could count on.