I was lucky enough to meet and chat with Mr. Williams on a couple of occasions, the first time, as I made my way through an exhibition of his work, and later, at our beautiful main library, where he spoke about his career, the way he approached his work, and the people, places and events he had photographed.
What struck me that day, was that there were so many young faces among the group gathered there, many of them still learning their trade in school or on the job, and just starting out.
They wanted to learn from the master. Those who knew him were there because they respected him and truly hung on his every word. It was wonderful to see. He was a photographer’s photographer: a man who knew how to capture a singular moment in time, bring it to life, and make us feel as if we were there that day.
He was without airs, proud of his work in a modest way, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune in being at the right place at the right time.
The video that accompanies his Memorial Park obituary says so much, without saying a word. We learn about his childhood, and time serving our country, the milestones in his life, both professional and personal. And I had to laugh at the humor found in many of the photographs of him and his family and/or camera, which is to say that he knew how to shine before the camera, as well as behind it.
He leaves behind such a rich heritage of work, a wife and children who adored him, as well as other family members, friends, colleagues and admirers. His daughter Paula has been a close friend for many years, I could not help but see how much of him can be reflected in her eyes and smile, as well as his work ethic, and penchant to get it right. Do one’s best. And make others comfortable and safe when in their good care.
His was, as they say, a life well lived. A wonderful marriage. A loving family and a lifetime and legacy of photographs that will endure far beyond not only his time, but our own.