William David “Bill” Williamson, 64

William David “Bill” Williamson, 64

June 8, 1957 — Nov. 3, 2021

Bill Williamson left the planet on Nov. 3. While he’d have preferred to do so at the helm of a Federation starship, surely, he’s now exploring the great beyond with the same gusto he did in his life on Earth. Though we had to say goodbye to Bill far too soon, his memory will stay with us like one of the unforgettable stories he loved to tell.

Bill was born in Tracy, Calif., on June 8, 1957, to William Paul Williamson and Violet Viola (Hood) Williamson. Along with his siblings Jim and Kathy, Bill traveled all over the western U.S. in the wake of his colorful and formidable mother Violet — growing up in locations throughout California, Utah, Montana, Idaho and Washington.

With his family constantly on the move, Bill learned to make friends fast as a boy, and to learn as much as he could about them — because he never knew how much time he’d get to spend in their company. His ability to befriend anyone and his intense curiosity would serve Bill well throughout the rest of his life. A voracious reader, young Bill also honed a gift for storytelling and jokes that became his signature quality as an adult.

Bill and his family eventually returned to California. There he developed an affinity for fixing engines by working on his friend Don’s dirt bike, joined a motorcycle club, and picked up some karate skills. He spent time in Pomona, Calif., where he met Virginia “Ginny” Clare in 1973, pranking the quiet Catholic girl with his friends while she was babysitting her siblings. They became friends, and friendship led to eventual romance, starting with a double feature Disney movie date.

After several months, Ginny eventually accepted Bill’s second proposal — his first had been rejected, being made after he tackled her during a game of football in the park — and they were married in Pomona on May 15, 1976, at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church.

Their first child was born within a year, followed by three more over the next decade. During this time Bill worked as a mechanic at various car dealerships, moving his family all over Southern California. He converted to Catholicism and was baptized at St. Madeline’s in Pomona in 1986.

In the late 1980s, the Williamsons headed to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Bill got his associate's degree in computer science and accounting at North Idaho College, working two jobs while enrolled in order to support his family — which grew to include a fifth child soon after their arrival in the Panhandle.

After graduating, perhaps feeling insufficiently busy, he’d work as many as three jobs at a time, ranging from night auditor at a Holiday Inn to cashier at Fred Meyer to accountant (and part-time building designer) for Jerry’s Body Shop. Eventually, Bill settled into his longest career, working from home as a computer consultant for Microvision (later Deltech), training accountants to use company software.

Wearing his standard uniform of a loud Hawaiian shirt, Bill was a memorable presence around Coeur d’Alene. His jovial attitude and friendly nature made him a favorite customer at the shops and restaurants he frequented, and his generosity and thoughtfulness endeared him to everyone who got to know him. He was quick to volunteer whenever help was needed, from assisting with a move or diagnosing a friend’s car trouble or participating as a member of both the Knights of Columbus at St. Thomas and the local PFLAG chapter — where he eventually served as president. Bill even served as the officiant for several marriages for people in the community, as well as for all three of his daughters.

Bill was a talented man with many hobbies. He loved motorcycles, particularly Harleys, and classic cars, especially Corvairs, and enjoyed going to Car D’Lane every year with his kids. Though he’d never cooked before marriage, Bill became an adept chef, in particular perfecting a pork fried rice recipe that holds near-legendary status in the Williamson family. He later learned to prepare gluten-free meals and other special diet foods with aplomb for family members with restrictions. Sadly, he never quite mastered not using every pot and pan in the house when making a meal.

An avid collector, he amassed quite an array of guns, and spent many happy hours shooting at the range. Bill was particularly proud of the antique black powder “pirate pistol” he taught his kids and grandkids to load and shoot. He also accumulated a vast number of books covering a wide range of subjects — an inveterate trivia buff, Bill was always quick to point out some obscure fact pertinent to a situation — but he particularly loved sci-fi and fantasy, from cheesy old pulp novels to classics like "Dune" and "Lord of the Rings." His love of fantasy extended to tabletop gaming, and he ran Dungeons & Dragons games for his friends and family as a creative, if sometimes comically cruel, dungeon master.

Bill didn’t take life too seriously. Immune to embarrassment, he would annoy his children in public with his Monkey and Dork Dances; and never let his inability to carry a tune prevent him from serenading his family, whether they wanted to hear it or not — sometimes singing the '70s rock hits he loved, sometimes instead belting out obscure comedy songs that maybe had ten minutes of airtime on a small California station in the distant past.

But for all his seemingly carefree demeanor, Bill still took his family responsibilities seriously. He was a devoted and protective husband and father, a peacemaker in times of strife and someone who made his family feel safe with his steady hands and warm heart. Bill worked hard to provide for everyone, and was a rock for his family, even as age and increasing ailments took a toll. To the very end, he always put others before himself.

Bill’s story will live on in the hearts of his wife, Ginny; children Jennifer (Eric) Williamson, Matthew (Guy) Williamson, Aaron (Amanda) Williamson, Melissa (Joaquin) Arias, and Maggie (Josh) Montreuil; grandchildren Sam Williamson and Katalina Johnson, Parker Chicks, Elexis Williamson, Zoey and Vance Arias, and Ariana Williamson; and his siblings Kathy Morua and James Timm; as well as in the memories of hundreds of friends and associates throughout North Idaho, California, and across the U.S.

A memorial to Bill’s life will be held in the spring. Condolences can be sent to bwillmemorial@gmail.com.

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I ended up where I needed to be.” — Douglas Adams