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On July 7, 1917, Vernon Williams and his twin sister, Virginia, were born. By the age of two months it became obvious that Vernon was unable to see. His parent’s friends and acquaintances urged them to put him in an institution, but his mother said no way. She taught herself Braille so she could teach him to read. She spent hours tracing maps, pressing hard on the reverse side so that the lines would be raised. Vernon entered kindergarten with the rest of the kids his age and did well in school. He taught himself to ride a bike in the front yard, although no one was ever sure how he avoided the trees. By the time he was a teenager he could ride his bike all over town. Some people speculated that he kept the front wheel just off the edge of the sidewalk, on the grass, so he could count the driveways he passed. Others thought that he extended one hand to count the trees he passed. Vernon never told how he did it, but he rarely got lost. He learned to build radios (after a few nasty shocks) and became a licensed ham radio operator. Along with some friends he bought an old car and rebuilt the engine. He decided then that he wanted to be an auto mechanic, but after he graduated high school he decided he wanted to be a lawyer. (His mother had decided it long ago, but by then he had decided he agreed with her.)
When Vernon started college, the administration insisted that, for safety reasons, he should use a cane. He’d never used one before, but he decided not to argue. He obtained a 3-ft long piece of lead pipe, and walked through the halls banging it against the walls, the radiators, and anything else that was in his way. It wasn’t too long before the administration decided that, for safety reasons, Vernon should NOT be required to use a cane.
In law school there was one professor who insisted that a blind man could never become a lawyer. He gave Vernon his only ‘D.’ The administration, familiar with his work in other classes, investigated and determined that the grade was unfair, as Vernon’s coursework deserved much higher. They offered to change it, but Vernon insisted they let it stand. When he graduated, that professor said, “Well, you might be a lawyer, but you’ll never be successful enough to own a Cadillac.” Vernon replied, “Not only will I own one, but when you’re dead I’ll drive it to the cemetery and pee on your grave.”
By the time the professor died Vernon was a successful lawyer and indeed owned a Cadillac. (Most of the time his wife drove it.) However, he decided that carrying out his threat was not worth the effort, honlding a grudge was beneath him, the professor’s obstructionism had probably made him a better student, and besides, his wife wouldn’t go along with the idea. So the grave remained unwatered.
Vernon was eventually elected South Dakota States Attorney, and served several terms. He was the second President of the National Blind Lawyers Association, as well as belonging to other civic groups and being an active member of his community and church. Stories about his life and accomplishments were published in American magazine, Reader’s Digest and other publications. He also wrote articles for Guideposts and The Upper Room devotional magazines. He was a popular lay preacher in the Methodist church and occasionally filled in at other churches.
Vernon and his wife, Betty, had four children and ten grandchildren. He taught his oldest granddaughter to swear (accidentally) when she was a year old. Her parents were bragging about the fact that their one year old could already repeat any word that was said to her. Her grandfather didn’t believe them, and expressed his disbelief in strong language, which she immediately repeated. “Bullsh--” became a favorite word for a few weeks, until her parents managed to gently discourage it. Twenty-seven years later, when she accepted her first appointment as a church pastor, he started apologizing every time he swore in front of her – “Sorry pastor.” When she asked why he apologized for swearing in front of her as an adult when he’d never apologized for teaching her to swear as a toddler, he replied, “I’m trying to reform.” He was, in the words of his son, “a Christian, although not an overly sanctified one.” Vernon Paul Williams died at 8:00 am on September 12, 2003.
Miss you Grandpa.
-- Dana Kay Williams
Posts: 9866 | Registered: Apr 2002
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Dana, that is a beautiful tribute. (((dkw))) He was a remarkable man.
You will be very, very present in my thoughts tonight, sweetheart.
[Your description puts me in mind of a more polished and less abrasive Mark Twain. Same drive, same humor, same intelligence, but both really one of a kind.]
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I still think your grandpa should've peed on that prick professor's grave. But other than that, that was a beautiful tribute. Posts: 4116 | Registered: Apr 2002
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That was beautiful, dkw. And I agree with CT -- he does sound rather Twain-ish.
You were fortunate to have such a uniquely wonderful person in your life. Thank you for sharing this tribute to him with us. (((((dkw)))))
Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
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My God. If it makes any sense, dkw, I wish I'd never gotten the chance to meet you if it meant that a man like that was still alive. He was a great man... Amazing... If only he had written an autobiography, I would have read it.
Posts: 4816 | Registered: Apr 2003
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quote:When Vernon started college, the administration insisted that, for safety reasons, he should use a cane. He’d never used one before, but he decided not to argue. He obtained a 3-ft long piece of lead pipe, and walked through the halls banging it against the walls, the radiators, and anything else that was in his way. It wasn’t too long before the administration decided that, for safety reasons, Vernon should NOT be required to use a cane.
Dana, thanks so much for sharing all of this. As you might have guessed from the stuff you read of mine, I really appreciated hearing about your grandfather's early efforts to be treated with fairness. This is what, in my neck of the woods, we call "disability history."
I'm sure you and everyone who knew him must miss him and cherish the memories that you have of him.
I'm so sorry for your loss, but I'm glad you got to have such a cool grandpa. It sounds like he was one-of-a-kind, and one of the good ones.
Posts: 2454 | Registered: Jan 2003
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