Ronald "Ron" Dwayne Williams

There is only one time I recall seeing my father cry, and that was at
his own mother’s funeral. At my age, I didn’t quite understand the
true impact of his tears until later in my own years.
My father was always happy; seemed to be in a continually good mood.
He would be whistling, or singing a song—usually a song he knew quite
well but made up his own words anyway. He was a great dancer, good at
tennis, and he could build anything. I remember sitting beside a
window in our dining room and he thought there should be a door where
the window was, so he said, “Let’s move this table” and he started
tearing out the wall.
I can still see his face when he sat beside me on the Olympic bob
sled in Germany, the day he cosigned for me to buy a car, and when he
walked me down the aisle on my wedding day. I recall his hand
caressing my infant daughter’s head and the smile on his face. He did
love babies!
I can hear his words saying “a clean car runs better” or put some
hard work and elbow grease into it. I hear him giggle when he said
“ahhhh; Look a there!” when he saw something that melted his heart.
I still laugh when I remember the time he walked into the ladies
restroom in the airport! And the time he painted our family car with a
paint brush. Bright yellow!
There was a Christmas growing up we didn’t have much money, but
that didn’t stop him. He found old bikes, refurbished them- and on
Christmas morning, we had shiny new fabulous bikes waiting.
I recall sitting on the pews at church waiting during deacons
meetings and choir practice; I recall watching him perform in a church
play. I remember one day he picked me up from school and he pulled
over on the side of the road to help a stranger change their flat tire.
There are many other stories and memories, from myself and
others I know; stories that are both funny and sad- stories that are
about Ron. We all have these stories because, at the end, they are
stories about a good man who was not perfect, but he was loved