Two weeks ago my Grandfather passed away. When my Father called to give me the bad news I was immediately devastated by the fact that I would not get to have another long conversation with my Grandfather about the English language, his desire to learn French, or listen to him talk about any of the various projects he was working on. Because I could not do those things again I wanted to share with people what I had always found to be so special about my Grandfather, so I offered to write his eulogy.
It pretty much wrote itself. Stanley Williams was probably the most brilliant man I have ever come into contact with. He had no formal education having dropped out of high school before graduating (he later earned his GED I think sometime in his 70s). Still, I have never known anyone so devoted to learning.
I am lucky in that respect. Though I no longer have living grandparents, I did inherit a love of learning from all of them.
Here is the eulogy I delivered in honor of my Grandfather last Saturday.
Before I could really begin to write this eulogy in honor of
my Grandfather, Stanley Eugene Williams, it seemed fitting to first look up the
word and share what I learned about it. I already knew its definition but I did
not know that it comes from the Greek work eulogia,
and that in is original state it means, simply, to praise. I think my
Grandfather would appreciate that today, as we say our final goodbyes, we are
learning something.
Many of you think of Stanley Williams as the son of Sydney
and Anna, the husband of Grace and father to Ruth, Gene, Ricky, Alice, Steven,
Ann and David. You know that he had 15 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren.
You are also probably aware that he was an electrician and a member of the
International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, Local 98.
There are many things that you might not know.
Stanley Williams was a grammarian. He devoted a great deal
of his time over the last few years, studying and breaking down the English
language. He delighted in finding grammatical mistakes in the New York Times
and he could diagram a sentence better than any English teacher I know.
He was a craftsman and an artist. Over the years, using
materials he had around the house, he built several dollhouses. On one occasion
I noted that the doorknob on one of the houses was very unique. He told me that he had
driven around Philadelphia looking for the right one put on the dollhouse he was
working on at the time. Eventually he found one--I don’t remember where--but
when he looked for a miniature replica, he could not find one. So he did what
was natural to him, he took out his tools and created a perfect replica.
My Grandfather knew that the capitol of Turkmenistan is
Asghabat and that the capitol of Eritrea is Asmara. In fact, if you gave him a
blank map of the world he could fill in every country and capitol from
memory. An amateur cartographer he
rearranged the boarders of fallen communist countries in his worn almanac.
Stanley Williams believed that you could learn just about
anything within the pages of a book. I distinctly remember him telling us that
he had learned to swim from and book and had also learned to drown proof
himself too. Though he might have been kidding about the last part.
I asked my cousins if there were any special memories they
had of our Grandfather. They remember his quizzing us on American and World
History, the capitols of every state in the US, the nature walks, going out on
his canoe (which had a motor), projects which, included building a skeleton and
a model of the human brain, or $20 to see how many push ups you could do.
For many of us it seems strange to be here. I know that I
had long been convinced that Stanley Williams was going to live for nothing
short of forever. But I also know that when one creates great works of art,
like he did with his dollhouses, or devotes themselves to the pursuit of
learning and then passes on that knowledge, as he always did, down to his
children, grandchildren, then one is most certainly blessed with immortality.
