His name was William Schachter, but his friends called him “Bicycle Bill, a moniker he earned from a motorcycle accident in his teens. Born in Pittsburgh, Pa., in 1953, he was a gifted song writer and performer, who his son says loved music and loved performing it. Mostly a solo artist, although he would sometimes pair with his daughter Rachel Marie, he sang and played the harmonica and acoustic guitar.

He spent nearly the last three decades in Bethlehem sharing his talent at venues like Godfrey Daniels, the Great Allentown Fair and Musikfest, but on Jan. 17 this year, he lost his 10-year battle with cancer.

The story doesn’t end there, however.

Preserving

the music

In the summer of 2020, on a visit to his father from his home in Austin, Texas, son Brian Schachter discovered a letter written to him by his father in 2012. It was about an idea for an album of the father’s own songs. The letter read, “Here are some songs I’m thinking about for a set. A good last song would be ‘Lookin’ for Paradise.’ It’s also a good name for the album.”

Incredibly, the letter and the idea got lost.

“My father mentioned it to me back then,” the younger Schachter says, “but I was in my early 20s, and trying to get my life together. Besides,” he continues, “Bill was never overly self- promotional. He may have just been waiting to be discovered by a record label.”

The son tells that in the early ’80s, the elder Schachter recorded two of his songs and sent them to a publisher in Nashville. Later he called the publisher and asked, “What do you think?” The reply, “It wasn’t a hit.” So, he just stopped sending music to agents.

The discovery of the 2012 letter was Brian Schachter’s epiphany. He tells of spending the rest of 2020 acting as his father’s manager, and putting together the album his father first envisioned.

“For the last six months his music has been a huge part of my life,” he says.

While working on the “Lookin’ for Paradise” album, he received another surprise. His father had a reel-to-reel tape recorder full of songs.

“I spent hours going through the recordings and preserving them by digitalizing them,” Brian says. “Only three of the songs from the tape are in the album, so stay tuned. There’s much more music on the horizon.”

The album

“This is a story with a moral, which is…”

So begins the first track of Bill Schachter’s debut album “Lookin’ for Paradise.” This introduction is referred to online by Gabe Rothchild (“A Bit ‘Bout Bill”) as a plain-spoken hint of things to come, and a message to the listener that these songs are worth your time. There is also a reference to singable songs and countless folk wisdom one liners.

“Lookin’ for Paradise” was released Dec. 31, 2020.

“Long overdue,” Brian Schachter observed, adding that friends who have heard it say it was a beautiful send off for his father.

The album includes nine songs, seven of which are Schachter originals. The two cover songs are a 1930s jazz piece called “On the Sunny Side of the Street,” and the other is “Meet Me in St. Louis,” a 1904 song written for the Louisiana Purchase Exposition.

The selections are in keeping with the Americana genre that Schachter says represents his dad’s musical style.

“Americana is all encompassing and can include jazz and country,” Brian says. “One of the songs he wrote in the album is pretty country.”

The debut album was released on a 12-inch 33? RPM vinyl record and in digital formats. The vinyl record is available for purchase at three local Lehigh Valley record stores: Easton Record Exchange (Easton); Double Decker Records (Allentown); and Compact Disc Center (Bethlehem).

The artist;

the man

Bill Schachter was basically a self-taught musician who got his first guitar in third grade.

While music, performing and writing were his passions, Schachter held an associate degree in electronics technology from Penn Technical Institute in Pittsburgh. He worked at several television stations, including WFMZ 69 after he moved his family to the Lehigh Valley in 1992.

He first met his future wife Carole Devey at her brother’s Falcon Camp in Ohio in 1985. The daughter of former Moravian headmaster, David Devey, she recalls their first encounter.

“[Bill] was walking outside, playing his guitar and singing ‘The Garden Song,’ by David Mallet. I was intrigued because I didn’t know anyone else who knew that song! He had heard it at a Pete Seeger/Arlo Guthrie concert and took the time to learn it. Our musical connection was instantaneous. I am a huge Pete/Arlo fan!”

“That first night we talked for a long time,” Carole says. “He serenaded me outside my cabin the next morning and the rest is history. We named our first two puppies after Pete Seeger and Joan Baez.”

After moving to Bethlehem, the couple became regulars at Godfrey Daniels. Dave Fry, founder of the coffeehouse and listening club, calls Schachter an important cog in the Godfrey Daniels creative community for years.

“Binomial Bill, as he was known, was a regular Open Mic performer, bringing his quirky original, philosophical and humorous songs to the stage,” Fry says.

When Bill was diagnosed with cancer, he began playing with dear friends and neighbors, Ben Wright and Frank Pappalardo.

“We dubbed the group, Blessing in Disguise, otherwise known as The Notorious BID,” his wife of 33 years says. “I am a firm believer that their time spent playing music together was a powerful medicine, and part of the reason Bill was able to carry on for so long.”

Among others who knew and respected Schachter is Sam Steffen, a Philadelphia singer-songwriter who grew up in Bethlehem.

“I do not know if it needs to be said,” Steffen says, “but I admired Bill’s songwriting immensely and will count it as one of the privileges of my life that I got to know him as a songwriter, and was so privileged to hear him play his songs at the Godfrey’s Open Mics … I will remember him as an articulate, humorous, well-read, skilled musician, a brilliant, gifted songwriter, alongside his credentials as a warmhearted, generous, funny and kind human being.”

Schachter’s son says his father was pretty lighthearted about his music.

“I can hear him laughing on some recordings if he made a mistake,” Brian recalls. “He accepted that things might not be perfect.”

“Humorous” is often used to describe Schachter, with references to there being some amount of humor in nearly everything he thought and what he said. As he was dying, he said he had thought about it and decided what his last word should be. Think “Rosebud.”

It may not have been his very last word, but his wife says, “I’d give him credit for trying!”