This year has not been a good one for my family. We buried my Uncle Chad last Sunday. His brother, my Uncle John Lee, had died in July. That leaves two siblings, my dad, Dean Williams, and their sister, Ruby Ellen Magers of Tupelo. And a bunch of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and cousins, most of whom gathered in Senatobia last weekend to say goodbye to Uncle Chad.

He’d taught science courses at Northwest for 33 years, so he had lots of friends and former students in Batesville. One of them is Rupert Howell.

Long before Rupert came into my family, in 1970 he was enrolled in a biology lab under Uncle Chad. Rupert was at the time working with Northwest’s Ranger Rocket staff, which published a weekly student newspaper.

Rupert helped with the darkroom work, which required laboring through the night each Wednesday to get the paper ready for the printer for Thursday distribution. Rupert had Uncle Chad’s biology lab at 8 o’clock on Thursday morning. It didn’t take Uncle Chad long to figure out where Rupert was when he kept missing roll call. So he’d send another student to Rupert’s dorm to wake him up and bring him to class.

I don’t think I ever had a college teacher who cared that much.

I’m sure there are many similar “Uncle Chad” stories out there.

At his visitation Saturday night at the Senatobia Church of Christ, a continuous slide show projected large photos onto the auditorium wall. Among Uncle Chad’s many talents was photography. It was a skill he passed on to all five of his children and to his wife, Reba. Collectively they must have photographed hundreds of weddings all over the state. With so many photographers in the family, the Williams archives are filled with good pictures.

I’ve seen slide shows at other wakes, but usually it’s about 20 pictures in a rotation. My cousin Mary Lee had scanned 550 photos for this show. The result was the same for me as a feel-good movie. Uncle Chad was smart and funny and loved to laugh. The slides triggered happy memories from family events at which I’d been in attendance.

There were family reunion portraits. Of course, Uncle Chad was the photographer, but he’d bring a tripod and jump in the picture at the last second.

There were family weddings, with Uncle Chad in a tux, giving away one of his daughters.

There was Uncle Chad as the “Hunchback of Notre Dame” for a costume party. Uncle Chad in his Navy uniform during World War II, hugging Grandma Cassie. Uncle Chad in his khaki shorts on a Boy Scout hike with his son Claude. Uncle Chad with tropical fish. Uncle Chad and Aunt Reba at Mt. Rushmore. And frame after frame of Uncle Chad with children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

He filled many roles–teacher, elder in his church, scoutmaster, horticulturist, cameraman–but I think his favorite was “Daddy.”

The preacher at his funeral remarked that several of Chad’s children had been surprised to encounter friends in college who lacked the security of a father’s devotion. My cousins had felt sorry for friends who didn’t have daddies who loved them.

Chad and Reba produced two school teachers (Jo Ann Coleman of Raymond and Martha Mills of Batesville, a teacher at North Delta School who followed her dad into the science classroom), a pharmacist (Claude Williams of Tupelo), a community college administrator (Mary Lee Sturgeon of Hernando), and a full-time mom (Amy Curtis) who is raising two of the youngest grandchildren.

In all Uncle Chad leaves ten grandchildren and two great-grandsons.

So there was a large group assembled in the Senatobia Memorial Cemetery Sunday afternoon when we all said goodbye.

As the preacher was helpfully assisting Aunt Reba to her seat under the funeral tent, she objected to taking the first chair next to the opening.

It was a cold, overcast afternoon and there was nothing to block the wind, she explained.

“Claude, sit here and break the wind off your mother,” the preacher said.

Responding without hesitation and demonstrating the quick wit he’d inherited from his dad, Cousin Claude, not quietly, said: “I’m not going to break wind under this tent.”

“Chip off the old block,” Cousin Ralph told Rupert.

Uncle Chad would be pleased, I think.