This official Bill Haast website is being presented in honor of one of the greatest pioneers, visionaries, humanitarians and scientists of all time. While the legendary name of W.E. Haast has already been etched into history, it has been said upon learning of his passing on June 15, 2011, that "there are some people who should never die." * and so that you too may know of just why he has earned such a place of honor in the hearts of all who knew him, and for those who knew of his dedication, self sacrifice and desire to relieve human suffering, we invite you to enjoy this site.
Bill packed each moment of each day with such drive, purpose and accomplishment that it isn't possible to present his whole story here, and circumstances allowing there will be a museum and memorial gardens dedicated in his name opened in the future as well as publications that will fully chronicle the events of his life. Until then, and while the historical records are being restored and archived, the amount of information will be general in nature.
* Bruno Gattolin, D.V.M.
Love, laughter, happiness and regret,
All with death are necessarily met.
So live, laugh, be happy and gay
For tomorrow, you may be one of a yesterday.Bill E Haast
To all who have expressed their kindness and heartfelt sympathy, I wish to say that at this most difficult time, your words of tender concern have brought great comfort to the harshest of all realities, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Those kind words in cards and on the memorial websites still resonate, and I call upon them often.
Bill gave of himself to people all of his life, and now, on this website and in the museum and memorial gardens to come, I gladly share his memory with you.
"I'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday..."
Bobby McGee by Kris Kristopherson and Fred Foster
And the color of honor is also black and white, and it was with honor of Bill that the renowned author James Dickey wrote the dramatic poem, "Venom". I wish to express my gratitude to Mr. Dickey's son, Christopher Dickey for permission to reprint this poem.
[for William Haast]
Forever, it comes from the head. Where does it end?
In life-blood. All over it, in fact, like thrown
Off and thrown-again light. There is little help
For it, but there is some.
The priest of poison: where is he? Who is
His latest snake? How does he work?
He has taken it all, brother, and his body lies
With its hand in ice, in a lungOf iron
but at last he rises, his heart changing
What the snake thought. Tooth-marks all over
Him are chattering of life, not death, not
What God gave them. He shimmers
With healing. He will lie down again
With him the snake has entered.
His blood will flow the length
Of the veins of both. They will clasp arms and double-dream
Of the snake in the low long smothering
Sun. Look down! They stretch out giving
And taking. Clouds of family beat the windows
Of doctors with their breath. Here lies
The man made good by a hundred
Bites. It is not God but a human
Body they pray to; Turn the poison
Round turn it back on itself O turn it
Good: better than life they whisper:
Turn it, they hammer whitely;
Turn it, turn it,
And turn it did. Over, and over, and over again.
In the interest of expanding the base of knowledge, we invite anyone who has been impacted by or had a part in Bill's life or the Miami Serpentarium and wishes to share your experiences or photos, we invite you to contact us. It may not be possible to post them all, but we look forward to hearing from you and will respond to each and every one as time and circumstance allows. We also invite you to visit the official Bill Haast facebook page, which will provide information on upcoming articles, radio programs and other events of interest.