Remembering Dick Williams

July 1, 2022 1:50 pm Published by Grace Fabian Leave your thoughts

Just received the news that my dear friend and long- time supporter passed away in his sleep. Our whole family will miss him greatly. Here are a few of my memories.

The welcome mat was always out at Dick and Thelma Williamses house on Dorman Road in Binghamton, NY. I don’t know the exact date when our friendship with them started but I’m guess it was over 50 years ago.

Their boys were gone and our family took over the basement one furlough. I relate, in my book Outrageous Grace (chapter 6) about the time Dick and Thelma invited many of their friends over, and Edmund gave his testimony of how he and his family fled from Poland during the war. It was a sacred, unforgettable evening.

How many evenings we all sat in front of the fireplace playing Mexican Train or Rummikub, or just talking and being entertained by Dick’s great, dry sense of humor.

More than once we called in the middle of the night during the winter. We were coming “home” late after a meeting and couldn’t make it up the hill. Dick always came and rescued us—yes, my husband and I and our four little ones.

After Thelma’s death the hospitality continued. One day I stopped and knocked on the basement door. Dick came and looked surprised to see me. “Hey, you don’t have to knock; just walk in.”

Once when Kurt was back for College break, he stopped to visit Uncle Dick and Aunt Thelma. When he was ready to leave, he mentioned that he was on his way to the shop to get his brakes replaced.

“Oh,” said Dick, “you’re having a brake problem? Kurt explained the situation.

And Dick said, “Well why don’t you take my truck, go down and pick up a set of brakes, and I’ll put them in for you?”

“Really? You know how to do that?”

“Sure,” said Dick. “No problem.”

So the surprised Kurt got his brakes replaced. And he’s never forgotten it. Last week, when I told him the news of Uncle Dick’s death, Kurt said, “I always knew that he could build a house from the foundation to the roof. But before he fixed my car, I never knew that he was also a mechanic.”

My children and I all loved Dick. He was easy to love. I never heard a cross word from him. He was always gracious, welcoming, asking how you were, and what he could do for you.

One time when I popped in at breakfast time, he put some cereal and milk on the table. “Wow, that’s a beautiful milk pitcher,” I said.

“Oh yeah, I think Thelma picked that up when we were down in Mexico one time. Take it. I don’t need it.”

I started objecting. “Oh, I was just admiring it…”

“Oh,” he said, “there’s a relish dish that matches it. Hey, here it is. Take this too.”

And so, though I had had no intention of asking for those pieces, I now have them. And I think of Dick every time I use them.

Another time I found him on the ladder going up to the attic. “Do you need a Christmas tree,” he called down?

“Well, actually I don’t have one. I guess I’ll just buy one from the Boy Scouts,” I said.

“Here, take this.”

“Oh, but Dick, this is yours. You need to keep it for your Christmas.”

Then he laughed and said, “Oh, Grace, you don’t think I’m going to decorate every room of this house like Thelma did, do you? No, you take it. Let’s get it out of here.” So that day we packed my trunk and back seat full of a Christmas tree, Christmas lights and decorations, and tablecloths.

At church it was the same. He was the first to get the tables set up in the Fellowship Hall. If they were short an usher, he was the first to volunteer to fill in. If one of the ladies needed help down the stairs he was the first to jump into action.

When I received word that Dick had passed from this life to heaven My mind filled with all these memories. It wasn’t until that next Sunday when I was home alone that the torrent of tears fell. And as I’m writing these words I’m crying for myself and the lose of a truly great man.

I think about Jesus’s first miracle, at the wedding in Cana. His mother went to him, “We’ve got a big problem. They’ve run out of wine.” Jesus had the men fill the water pots. When it was dipped out everyone exclaimed, “Usually the best wine is served first, but at this wedding the best is last.” My comfort at this news of Dick’s death is that he’s tasting the best wine now. He’s in the very presence of Jesus now, and it doesn’t get better than that.