Bill Harper announced his retirement two years ago.

After 20 years, it’s been a long time coming.

But he won’t officially be done as the reverend of Grace Episcopal Church until April 26. Then, and only then, he will read his goodbye letter to the congregation. He will let go.

Church parishioners wanted to make sure they got it right when selecting Tommy Dillon to take his place.

It wasn’t an easy decision.

After all, how does a congregation replace a reverend who loves the outdoors, preaches from the center of the room instead of behind a pulpit and who has two pierced ears?

“He’s very real and very approachable,” said Krista Webb, a second-term warden at the church.

When she met him 15 years ago, he had long hair and “snowboarded and rock climbed — just all those cool things. He was just cool. He’s still cool,” Webb admitted.

Although Harper will be gone — Episcopal tradition requires he cannot return as a member for a full year — his legacy of what he’s created will remain. Many believe the church will stay strong because of Harper’s work.

“A lot of people have wondered aloud what’s going to happen when he leaves,” said Sophie Hill, a church member and co-parish life minister. “I feel like it’s going to be fine. I think there’s a lot of excitement for what’s ahead, and, of course, sadness. I feel like he’s leaving when Grace is really strong and robust and healthy. I’m not worried about that, which is really nice.”

Dallas Young, a church member since 1998, agreed.

“Bill has many gifts and two stand out particularly to me,” said Young. “First, his ability to share leadership with lay leaders, which has contributed to the strength of the entire Grace community. Second, his amazing ability to establish and maintain relationships

with seemingly hundreds of individuals, both active Grace members and many others in the Bainbridge community and beyond.”

Harper has seen the church grow from its infancy — when its members met in the dark basement of a Masonic lodge — to the glorious light-filled building it calls home today.

In those early days, there were less than 100 people in attendance on any given Sunday. Now, attendance tops 250 on some Sundays.

Sitting in his office, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and boxes waiting to be filled, Harper said he is ready to move into the next stage of his life.

For someone who hasn’t had a free weekend in a long time, he has plenty of plans.

“It’s going to be interesting to see how something moves in me,” the 56-year-old reverend said of his retirement. “I bet for a while I won’t do anything on Sunday mornings.”

His first summer agenda item is to become a certified wilderness emergency medical technician.

“I want to experience bringing the body and soul back together,” he said.

Some of his most cherished moments include the 12-day wilderness trips he took youth on, he said. And because the wilderness has always called to him, Harper plans to spend a lot of time in it during his retirement. He will also take some time to help out at Camp Dudley, a boys camp in upstate New York.

And once the snow hits the mountains, he plans to run the slopes for the first 100 days of winter.

By fall, Harper will add some more things to the list. He and his family plan to stay on Bainbridge.

“To stay 20 years is incredibly unusual,” he said of his profession. “Twenty is a good time to go. I may have to reinvent myself again.”

In the meantime, he looked back on the career he started at age 26.

As he wraps up his final weeks, he spends a lot of time in reflection. It turns out 20 years can go by pretty fast.

The past few weeks, his quiet mornings are spent outside on the backside of the church. Just out the back doors of Grace Episcopal Church is a beautiful, green lawn that meets a memorial wall tucked next to a garden. A cross made of driftwood and covered in nails sits off to the side. Harper remembered when he and his two sons went out looking for the driftwood to make the cross years ago.

Since making it, the cross has made an appearance for Easter services where church members symbolically nail their transgressions to the wood. He smiles when he sees it, knowing it is a memory he will hold dear.

Just beyond the lawn is a memorial wall for those who no longer sit with the congregation on Sunday mornings. Instead, their ashes are a part of the church in a natural setting where Harper spends much of his time these days.

Over the years, Harper’s taken part in 50 or more memorial services. Every name on the wall is someone he knew, including one of his best friends, John Crane, who died of cancer.

It’s at the wall where he remembers the support he’s offered. It’s also where he recalled how his congregation lifted him up two years ago when he himself fought cancer.

“I’m better now,” he said.

During that time, he received more help than he ever intended. As the congregation leader, he was the one who gave help. He wasn’t used to being served.

“I had to let them do exactly what I tell them. I couldn’t be a hypocrite,” Harper said.

When he thinks of those who have passed before him, he also is reminded of the life he sees on a regular basis.

“This congregation has a lot of youth and vitality,” he said. “We haven’t had to grieve a lot, but we do have grief. We’ve had more baptisms than funerals.”

Harper’s baptized more than 100 babies in his time. Now, those same babies walk through his church doors with bulky muscles from playing college sports.

It’s the youth, he said, who he will miss the most when he leaves. They will miss him the most, too, Hill said.

“I think one of the things about Bill is he’s not afraid to let people know that he’s just a man and he has his foibles and flaws,” she said. “He’s very real. I think kids especially respond to that.”

She recalled a special moment when she experienced Harper’s warmth and love of children.

Hill and her family went with her two-day-old son to a church service where Harper was preaching. They had been attending the church for some time, but had not had a chance to connect with Harper on a personal level yet. Each Sunday, those in attendance with a birthday are asked to stand up and join Harper in the center of the room. Hill went up with her family and two-day-old son.

“It’s so sweet and wonderful,” Hill said of the tradition.

Once home, Hill received a phone call from Harper thanking her for bringing her son up to the front for a birthday song.

“I think that was the first time I felt like this was someone we felt like we could be really close with,” she said of Harper.

His authentic connection with youth is what makes his preaching style stand out the most, Hill said.

As a way to build closer relationships with fifth- and sixth-graders, Harper chose a service outreach project that would make a difference in the community.

Once a month, students gathered to pack brown bag lunches decorated with personal notes and drawings. On early release Mondays, Harper and a small group of students would hit the streets of Seattle to feed the homeless.

“My daughter always would come back with stories to tell,” said Hill. “It was really special and a really concrete way of reaching out to people in need.”

His ability to mentor youth has been what wardens call the “hallmark of his ministry” as his youth group nights regularly draw as many as 75 young attendees.

While youth group growth has always been important to Harper, he is quick to point out that the church body is more than young people and why he thinks it has worked well for so long.

“I am incredibly proud of the intergenerational connection that happens here,” he said.

”It’s the way the generations gather in this place on a Sunday morning. We’re all in it together — I’ll miss that the most.”