by Todd Adams

Honoring Bill Hattendorf

Facilitator & Friend

1947 – 2026

It is with heavy hearts that we share the news of the passing of Bill Hattendorf — MenLiving facilitator, Vietnam veteran, fraternity elder, church servant, husband, father, grandfather, and one of the kindest men many of us have ever had the privilege of knowing. Bill died peacefully on May 11th, 2026, surrounded by family and friends. He was 78 years old.

A Life Built in Service

Bill’s life was, in many ways, a masterclass in showing up for others. After serving in Vietnam — where, as he liked to say, the trombone saved his life by earning him a transfer to the Army Band — he spent decades as Executive Director and three-term National President of Chi Psi Fraternity. He was a 30-year Vestry member of the Episcopal Church, a school advancement officer, a radio station advisor, and in his later years, a dedicated member of veterans groups like RuckUp, where he helped fellow combat veterans navigate the weight of their memories. He received a Bronze Star for his service.

Finding MenLiving — and Completing the Circle

Bill found MenLiving at the start of Covid, when other connections had gone quiet. He was looking for new ways to belong, and what he found here became something he described as the piece that brought it all together. His personal development journey had begun in Vietnam, and four decades of facilitating fraternal, veteran, and spirituality groups had shaped him into the man who walked into our spaces. MenLiving, he said, was where it finally converged.

He became a facilitator shortly after attending his first MenLiving Advance — a testament to how quickly the community recognized what he had to offer, and how quickly he recognized the same in us.

45 Hugs Over Three Days

I spent time with Bill on countless Zoom calls before we met in person at an Advance. When we finally did meet face to face, I felt something unmistakable — an openness, a warmth, a presence that invited closeness. Early in the weekend, I asked Bill if he’d be open to multiple hugs a day. Without missing a beat, Bill said: “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” By the end of the three-day weekend, I probably hugged Bill around 45 times. If I had to describe Bill in a single word, it would be this: kind.

Fighting Forward

At some point in our friendship, I learned that Bill had been living with melanoma for years. I never knew him in a way that wasn’t shaped by that fight — and yet I rarely thought of him as sick, because he refused to be defined by it. Every month or so we’d check in by phone, and I always asked him how he was doing with it. He never dodged the question. He’d talk about it directly, honestly, without self-pity — and then he’d say something like: “Todd, I’m going to keep on fighting and I’m not going to let it drag me down.” Every single time. He was an inspiration not just to men doing personal growth work, but to anyone navigating a serious illness. He showed me that you can face something hard and still choose how you carry it.

What Bill Represented for MenLiving

Most of the men who called Bill a brother had never met him in person. That matters. MenLiving is built on the belief that genuine connection across generations, backgrounds, and life stages is not only possible — it is essential. Bill, a man in his late 70s who had been doing this work for decades, found something new and vital here. And the men here, many of them far younger, found in him a living example of what it looks like to keep growing, keep connecting, and keep showing up with an open heart.

That is the promise of this community. That is what Bill modeled.

To Sheila and the Hattendorf family: thank you for sharing him with us. MenLiving is better because Bill was here.

In His Memory

Bill is survived by his wife Sheila, his children Wesley, Kelsey, and Spencer, and his grandchildren Saoirse, Mira, Wendell, Harriet, and Freddie.  Bill’s obituary can be found here