Obituary for David G. Williamson
My father, David George Williamson, of Battle Creek died unexpectedly on October 4th, next to the love of his life, my mother, Diana Williamson. David was an extraordinary man and sadly no couple paragraphs could ever convey all that he was as a human being but I will try.
David was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan at his grandmother's home on Bridge street in 1945 to Iva May (Follin) and George Williamson. He was one among seven siblings that resided in rural Athens, MI. Very much a farm boy who loved being in the country. He took me several times by the river that he and his brothers played in during his youth. He was one of the last generations to attend a one room schoolhouse and went on to graduate from Athens High School in 1963, participating in track, basketball and football. Some of his records, I believe, still remain in their showcase. After graduation he went on to work for the Eaton Corporation as a machinist while also operating a 73 acre farm in Fulton, MI, and driving a school bus in the morning. He went on to attend college for business management and metallurgy and eventually went from machinist, to foreman and metallurgist before retiring in 2005.
My mother worked in the cafeteria at Eaton. My mother admittedly turned him away initially, but finally gave in to a date that shortly after led to their marriage in 1975. He sold his farm and opted to move to the suburbs where they have lived all their lives. My parents were inseparable. In 1979 he developed Crohn's Disease, and my mother drove him in a big green van to Minnesota for experimental treatment and again for his cancer diagnosis in 2006, both of which he beat. He often remarked that she saved his life multiple times but mom always felt she was the lucky one. I can't remember a time that Dad went anywhere without mom or vice versa . They both held very strong beliefs about the world all through their lives and together they participated in the nuclear reduction rally of 1982 in New York City with their church, marching alongside the likes of Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, Carly Simon and Linda Ronstadt.
He was a lover of all kinds of music. Some of his loves were The Ventures, The Everly Brothers, Chet Atkins, Johnny Cash, Eminem, MeatLoaf, The DropKick Murphys, Simon and Garfunkle, Buddy Holly, CCR, Janis Joplin and the Bee Gees. A lover of Westerns, both films and series. He was lucky enough in his life to see England, Ireland, Italy, and Mexico. He especially loved Mexico, and this was reflected in some of his guitar playing style. Having been born to his mother, a concert pianist for the Kalamazoo Symphony Orchestra, music was an incredibly important part of his upbringing. He was an incredibly gifted guitarist, banjo player, and harmonica player. I remember many nights falling asleep in my bed listening to him play guitar across the hall.
He was an inventor and a craftsman. He could build just about anything and was constantly constructing some new project in his garage. He once converted a sewing machine into a scroll saw, a steel drum into a gas pump and a few pieces of trim into a perpetually moving toy with marbles. He was a suburban daredevil attempting to create a hovercraft in his garage, creating homemade stilts just to see if he could walk in them (he could), and his most known feat among Battle Creek natives, riding his giant wheeled penny farthing bicycle about town. He was the kind of dad that loved to stop at tourist traps and historic sites. A lover of history and archeology. He was the kind of person that could keep up a conversation on almost every topic. He held great wonder regarding the universe and all the secrets it holds. We often had in depth conversations about what else could be out there. I loved that about him.
He was a man who gave his entire life to his wife and family. He was a generous man who wouldn't hesitate to help his fellow man in need. An honest man who believed in people and would sacrifice his own pride to forgive those who hurt him. He was a gentle giant with hands the size of dinner plates who added so much humor to every situation. I remember as a kid before he'd head to work in the morning he'd stop in my room, assuming I was still asleep, to pat my head. He'd find the coolest seashell or an unusual insect and catch it for me because he knew I had the same curiosities about nature that he did. A man who never had to earn the love of the people around him. To know my father was to love my father. He was a selfless man who stood up for the small guy and had the greatest sense of humor, smile, and laugh. He taught us to be understanding, to be frugal, to have fun, to pay it forward without expecting reward, to be considerate of others and not to pass judgement, to stand up for what is right, and how to be someone you can always rely on. But of all the lessons he taught us girls, the hardest, by far, was learning what it feels like to lose the greatest Dad.
He is survived by his wife Diana Williamson and daughters Nichole Williamson, Chrystal Morata, Rhonda Skalski, Michelle Convis, and Lisa Mauk.
He was preceded in death, a few months prior, by his dog, best friend, and constant companion, Oliver.
Arrangements entrusted to the Baxter Funeral and Cremation Service. 269-788-9800. www.baxterfuneral.com
David was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan at his grandmother's home on Bridge street in 1945 to Iva May (Follin) and George Williamson. He was one among seven siblings that resided in rural Athens, MI. Very much a farm boy who loved being in the country. He took me several times by the river that he and his brothers played in during his youth. He was one of the last generations to attend a one room schoolhouse and went on to graduate from Athens High School in 1963, participating in track, basketball and football. Some of his records, I believe, still remain in their showcase. After graduation he went on to work for the Eaton Corporation as a machinist while also operating a 73 acre farm in Fulton, MI, and driving a school bus in the morning. He went on to attend college for business management and metallurgy and eventually went from machinist, to foreman and metallurgist before retiring in 2005.
My mother worked in the cafeteria at Eaton. My mother admittedly turned him away initially, but finally gave in to a date that shortly after led to their marriage in 1975. He sold his farm and opted to move to the suburbs where they have lived all their lives. My parents were inseparable. In 1979 he developed Crohn's Disease, and my mother drove him in a big green van to Minnesota for experimental treatment and again for his cancer diagnosis in 2006, both of which he beat. He often remarked that she saved his life multiple times but mom always felt she was the lucky one. I can't remember a time that Dad went anywhere without mom or vice versa . They both held very strong beliefs about the world all through their lives and together they participated in the nuclear reduction rally of 1982 in New York City with their church, marching alongside the likes of Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, Carly Simon and Linda Ronstadt.
He was a lover of all kinds of music. Some of his loves were The Ventures, The Everly Brothers, Chet Atkins, Johnny Cash, Eminem, MeatLoaf, The DropKick Murphys, Simon and Garfunkle, Buddy Holly, CCR, Janis Joplin and the Bee Gees. A lover of Westerns, both films and series. He was lucky enough in his life to see England, Ireland, Italy, and Mexico. He especially loved Mexico, and this was reflected in some of his guitar playing style. Having been born to his mother, a concert pianist for the Kalamazoo Symphony Orchestra, music was an incredibly important part of his upbringing. He was an incredibly gifted guitarist, banjo player, and harmonica player. I remember many nights falling asleep in my bed listening to him play guitar across the hall.
He was an inventor and a craftsman. He could build just about anything and was constantly constructing some new project in his garage. He once converted a sewing machine into a scroll saw, a steel drum into a gas pump and a few pieces of trim into a perpetually moving toy with marbles. He was a suburban daredevil attempting to create a hovercraft in his garage, creating homemade stilts just to see if he could walk in them (he could), and his most known feat among Battle Creek natives, riding his giant wheeled penny farthing bicycle about town. He was the kind of dad that loved to stop at tourist traps and historic sites. A lover of history and archeology. He was the kind of person that could keep up a conversation on almost every topic. He held great wonder regarding the universe and all the secrets it holds. We often had in depth conversations about what else could be out there. I loved that about him.
He was a man who gave his entire life to his wife and family. He was a generous man who wouldn't hesitate to help his fellow man in need. An honest man who believed in people and would sacrifice his own pride to forgive those who hurt him. He was a gentle giant with hands the size of dinner plates who added so much humor to every situation. I remember as a kid before he'd head to work in the morning he'd stop in my room, assuming I was still asleep, to pat my head. He'd find the coolest seashell or an unusual insect and catch it for me because he knew I had the same curiosities about nature that he did. A man who never had to earn the love of the people around him. To know my father was to love my father. He was a selfless man who stood up for the small guy and had the greatest sense of humor, smile, and laugh. He taught us to be understanding, to be frugal, to have fun, to pay it forward without expecting reward, to be considerate of others and not to pass judgement, to stand up for what is right, and how to be someone you can always rely on. But of all the lessons he taught us girls, the hardest, by far, was learning what it feels like to lose the greatest Dad.
He is survived by his wife Diana Williamson and daughters Nichole Williamson, Chrystal Morata, Rhonda Skalski, Michelle Convis, and Lisa Mauk.
He was preceded in death, a few months prior, by his dog, best friend, and constant companion, Oliver.
Arrangements entrusted to the Baxter Funeral and Cremation Service. 269-788-9800. www.baxterfuneral.com