William Roy Wilson was an incredibly funny man, not just humorous. When academic discourse turned to blather, he would tilt his head, raise his eyebrows, and issue a perceptive response: “Schmok?” His wide vocabulary of such sounds almost surpasses the number of facial expressions in his repertoire. Given those talents, most of the Architect’s Class of 1965 owe their nicknames to Bill.
Bill was a leader in many ways. In the apartments we shared for our third through fifth years at Rice, he organized evening meal responsibilities (cook, assistant, clean-up, and off-week), retained a house cleaner, and devised a fair cost-sharing system. He was the quarterback of our pathetic touch football intramural team, the chauffer of our excursion to Monterey, Mexico, and a strong voice in our jousts with the administration. In retrospect, maybe those jousts inspired the surprise relocation of our fifth-year class from the top floor laboratory of Anderson Hall down to the basement of the library.
At Rice, Bill staunchly advocated for his beloved Memphis, his sports teams, and the girl back home. His unwavering support defied events, statistics, and the social attractions of college life. Discussing his career at our 50th reunion, I felt his architectural passion was getting the project built, overcoming the construction issues, getting it done - especially for St. Jude Children’s Hospital.