Monday, March 23, 2026

Monday, March 23, 2026

Many thanks to today’s guest blogger, Bill Brolley. Bill is a dear friend of the entire Snarski family.

Andy and I were best friends since high school, and our group was inseparable. We were so close that I could walk into his house without knocking and address his parents by their first names. A couple years, when my parents were away for Thanksgiving, Sally invited me to join their dinner, and I truly felt honored and like part of the family.

While many stories from high school, college, and adulthood are best kept between us, I will always cherish the bond we shared. I clearly remember the Grateful Dead concerts at Alpine Valley, seeing Andy dancing on the hill with a huge smile and his arms waving. I will truly miss that laugh and his spirit.

After we married and had children, our get-togethers became fewer as life’s responsibilities took over, but our friendship never faded. I hadn’t communicated with Andy for a while when my son, Matt, informed me of his ALS diagnosis. My son’s best friend is Nick Snarski, Andy’s nephew—a sign that the tradition continues.

The news hit me incredibly hard. When I finally composed myself to call him, the conversation was unexpectedly easy because of Andy’s attitude; he was determined to tackle ALS head-on. At his request, I informed our high school friend group, which led to 10 or 15 of us meeting with Andy and Cindy monthly at various restaurants. Renewing those friendships was a gift to all of us.

I also cherish the memory of playing golf with Tim and Andy last year. This was shortly after Andy posted a video of himself swinging a club in the physical therapy room at the hospital, and I was worried about him being on the course. Cindy mentioned he might only putt, but with Tim and me supporting him, he successfully teed off and played all nine holes. He hit the ball so well at one point that I forgot my “job” of catching him because I was busy watching his shot. We finished the day with cigars, drinks, and laughs, creating a sense of normalcy despite the disease. Even when he could no longer play normally, he showed incredible courage at the ALS golf outing at Cog Hill, swinging and putting in the pouring rain while the rest of us wanted to stop.

I miss my best friend deeply. I am angry at what ALS did to his body, but it could never touch his mind or his spirit. Andy’s courage and dignity inspired us all. When asked how I am doing with his passing, I say that while I feel empty and sad, thinking of the great times we shared always brings a smile to my face. Andy showed us all how to be better people.

Thank you, Andy.

Bill