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kkorenek(at)tx.rr.com
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 Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 6:13 pm Post subject: John Williamson Funeral |
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Kolbers,
It is finished.
The funeral for John took place this afternoon. He had a civil service at the funeral home and then a procession to the Dallas Fort Worth National Cemetery for a full honors military burial.
The pageantry was impressive, a “missing man formation” fly-by (even if it was a flight of RV’s :>) ), a 21 Gun Salute and the playing of taps was the appropriate end to the life of such an impressive man.
My friend. My flying buddy. My building buddy. My CFI.
So many people to miss, all wrapped up into one.
Ken Korenek
Arlington, Texas
Eulogy- John Andrew Williamson
Just before 11 AM, on a Sunday morning just over a week ago, John Williamson came to the end of his allotted time here on earth.
Beverly lost her husband of 31 years.
Jason and Gabriel lost their Father.
Those of us here lost a friend and the rest of the world lost a good and honorable man whose honesty and integrity is beyond reproach.
Born into humble surroundings, his youth was spent in various places in the Pacific Northwest. Shortly after graduating from high school in 1968, John enlisted in the US Army and began what was to become a highly decorated 20 year career. While on assignment at Fort Polk, Louisiana, John met the love of his life. His military career being firmly established, John was ready to start the civilian aspect of the American Dream. John and Beverly married in 1977 and had their first child, Jason, in early 1978 with the second, Gabriel, late in 1979. John’s military career allowed them to experience living in several places around the country as well as a few years in Germany.
I won’t go thru the details of his decorated military career. Though the commendations and decorations associated with John’s military career are many in number, they only tell a portion of the remarkable story of John’s life. The only detail that I will mention is the one that John is most proud of; John witnessed the downing or crash of 27 of his fellow aircraft in Vietnam and he NEVER left a man behind. He did what he had to do to ensure that every one of his downed warriors returned and without the loss of a single life.
Reaching the 20 year mark of his career while the Army was firmly entrenched in a peace-time mode, John decided that it was time to try his hand in the civilian world. After being accepted as a pilot for American Airlines, John ferried crews to and from off shore oil platforms while he waited for his class date to convene. John’s 13 year career with American Airlines was as substantial as was his military career. Shortly after the 9/11 tragedy, which took all of the “fun” out of flying for the airlines, he retired early to begin the final phase of his life.
Looking for ways to satisfy his passion for flying, John looked into the options available in general aviation and settled on the world of homebuilt, experimental aircraft. John threw himself into this hobby with the same fervor that he had for the military and American Airlines. John soon settled on an aircraft model that would most suit his flying wants and needs and built the Kolb Kolbra that everyone knows him for. He built that entire airplane in his garage with the help of Beverly, Jason and Gabriel. He made the first flight of the Kolbra at the Arlington Municipal Airport and shortly after finding hangar space there, he became a friend to everyone he met.
John was eager to lend a hand anytime that it was needed. It did not matter if that need was physical, procedural, or emotional. You would never know in whose hangar you would find John, but it was a good bet that you would find him where he was needed, lending a hand. Thought he was always a rich source of accurate information, John was not a pretentious man. He would readily admit when he made a mistake. But, he was correct with annoying frequency, and he occasionally felt the need to quote chapter and verse of the regulations. Although routinely correct, John would never belittle you by “rubbing your nose in it.” At air shows or just visiting around the airport, John routinely found and emphasized the good things about one’s handiwork and never criticized the shortcomings.
Once, at an air show, a father and son were arguing bitterly. John quietly approached the son and told him how lucky he was that his father wanted to share his time with him and that he should not take that for granted. The son saw fit to take John’s observation to heart and made amends with his father. John was quick with a joke, unafraid to compliment and was reserved with criticism.
John’s passion for flight and his vast flight experience, both at high altitude and low, sometimes both impressed and scared many who knew him. John knew what he was doing. John often flew low, lifting up over power lines and zig-zagging to avoid flying over any one or any house that he came upon. Once, when someone chided John about his low flying habits by saying that he would scare many GA pilots to death, John simply remarked that “they just don’t have as much fun as I do.”
John lived life to the fullest. To him, quality of life, not the mere quantity of life, was what was most important.
John’s last flying adventure saw him join up with a good friend on a two week flight, first to Monument Valley, Utah for a weekend Kolb gathering and then on to meet with others at the home of another close friend who lived in remote Idaho. These four friends were out flying on that Sunday morning and to state it simply, they were having a blast. It just turns out that this time, instead of ending the day sitting under the wing, recanting the days’ flying highlights, it was spent in sorrow.
We will never know the reason why John was in a steep bank, low enough to imperil his life.
We will never know why John made the decision to venture to the edge of the envelope of safety.
We will never know the “why” of it all.
But we do know that he was there because he chose to be and it was not because of carelessness or stupidity. Even when John was pushing the envelope, he was a cautious pilot, ever conscious of the inherent perils of flight.
As tragic as this all is, take refuge in the fact that John lived well and that he died well. The weather that fateful morning was the best it had been on the entire trip. John was out flying with some good friends in some of the most beautiful country God created. Everyone there said that they were all having more fun than they had had in a long time. Chasing coyotes, following the landscape and feeling the rush of powered flight, John’s last moments on earth were filled experiencing the pure joy of his life’s passion. His passing was quick enough that the joy and pleasures he was filled with were not spoiled by pain and misery.
John lived well and John died well.
Although not a religious man, John was a spiritual man in that he did take solace in the beauty of nature. He went out of his way to photograph the splendor of a vivid sunset and radio chatter was quiet in the serenity high above the indescribable beauty of a solid cloud deck. The area that they were flying in that morning was ruggedly beautiful and if John could have had a say in the place of his demise, he likely would have approved.
John lived well in terms of how he positively touched the lives of those he encountered. The true mark of a man is NOT a measure of the amount of money he has in the bank or the number of possessions with which he surrounds himself.
The true mark of a man is measured by the number of those who care enough to grieve at his passing and the number of those who will gather together to pay their last respects. The true mark of a man can be judged by the number of those who will miss him when he is gone.
All one has to do is look around this room to see that John Williamson was a remarkably wealthy man.
To sum all of this up in one, single, brief statement:
“Arlington Tower, Kolb four- niner- kilo- kilo, ready for takeoff … and headed west.”
[quote][b]
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lcottrell
Joined: 29 May 2006
Posts: 1494
Location: Jordan Valley, Or
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| Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 7:56 pm Post subject: Re: John Williamson Funeral |
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Gang,
I am back at my brothers house in San Antonio after attending John W's funeral. There is little that I can add to Ken's eloquent remarks. I am afraid that I am all too familar with the emptyness that follows the passing of one who has touched so many lives. He will be hard to replace, but all he touched are better because he lived.
I would like to thank Ken and his family for their assistance and unselfish help. His lovely daughter picked up and returned suitable clothing for me, his son had to help me tie an infernal tie, since my wife wasn't there to dress me. His gratious wife fed me and tolerated an imperfect stranger into their house, and all made me feel welcome.
Larry Cottrell
do not archive
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russ(at)rkiphoto.com
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| Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 6:25 am Post subject: John Williamson Funeral |
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A very sensitive, touching, articulate, and honoring eulogy. John Andrew Williamson is to be congratulated. A superb job at a tough time.
On Jun 3, 2008, at 10:10 PM, Ken Korenek wrote:
[quote]Kolbers,
It is finished.
The funeral for John took place this afternoon. He had a civil service at the funeral home and then a procession to the Dallas Fort Worth National Cemetery for a full honors military burial.
The pageantry was impressive, a “missing man formation” fly-by (even if it was a flight of RV’s :>) ), a 21 Gun Salute and the playing of taps was the appropriate end to the life of such an impressive man.
My friend. My flying buddy. My building buddy. My CFI.
So many people to miss, all wrapped up into one.
Ken Korenek
Arlington, Texas
Eulogy- John Andrew Williamson
Just before 11 AM, on a Sunday morning just over a week ago, John Williamson came to the end of his allotted time here on earth.
Beverly lost her husband of 31 years.
Jason and Gabriel lost their Father.
Those of us here lost a friend and the rest of the world lost a good and honorable man whose honesty and integrity is beyond reproach.
Born into humble surroundings, his youth was spent in various places in the Pacific Northwest. Shortly after graduating from high school in 1968, John enlisted in the US Army and began what was to become a highly decorated 20 year career. While on assignment at Fort Polk, Louisiana, John met the love of his life. His military career being firmly established, John was ready to start the civilian aspect of the American Dream. John and Beverly married in 1977 and had their first child, Jason, in early 1978 with the second, Gabriel, late in 1979. John’s military career allowed them to experience living in several places around the country as well as a few years in Germany.
I won’t go thru the details of his decorated military career. Though the commendations and decorations associated with John’s military career are many in number, they only tell a portion of the remarkable story of John’s life. The only detail that I will mention is the one that John is most proud of; John witnessed the downing or crash of 27 of his fellow aircraft in Vietnam and he NEVER left a man behind. He did what he had to do to ensure that every one of his downed warriors returned and without the loss of a single life.
Reaching the 20 year mark of his career while the Army was firmly entrenched in a peace-time mode, John decided that it was time to try his hand in the civilian world. After being accepted as a pilot for American Airlines, John ferried crews to and from off shore oil platforms while he waited for his class date to convene. John’s 13 year career with American Airlines was as substantial as was his military career. Shortly after the 9/11 tragedy, which took all of the “fun” out of flying for the airlines, he retired early to begin the final phase of his life.
Looking for ways to satisfy his passion for flying, John looked into the options available in general aviation and settled on the world of homebuilt, experimental aircraft. John threw himself into this hobby with the same fervor that he had for the military and American Airlines. John soon settled on an aircraft model that would most suit his flying wants and needs and built the Kolb Kolbra that everyone knows him for. He built that entire airplane in his garage with the help of Beverly, Jason and Gabriel. He made the first flight of the Kolbra at the Arlington Municipal Airport and shortly after finding hangar space there, he became a friend to everyone he met.
John was eager to lend a hand anytime that it was needed. It did not matter if that need was physical, procedural, or emotional. You would never know in whose hangar you would find John, but it was a good bet that you would find him where he was needed, lending a hand. Thought he was always a rich source of accurate information, John was not a pretentious man. He would readily admit when he made a mistake. But, he was correct with annoying frequency, and he occasionally felt the need to quote chapter and verse of the regulations. Although routinely correct, John would never belittle you by “rubbing your nose in it.” At air shows or just visiting around the airport, John routinely found and emphasized the good things about one’s handiwork and never criticized the shortcomings.
Once, at an air show, a father and son were arguing bitterly. John quietly approached the son and told him how lucky he was that his father wanted to share his time with him and that he should not take that for granted. The son saw fit to take John’s observation to heart and made amends with his father. John was quick with a joke, unafraid to compliment and was reserved with criticism.
John’s passion for flight and his vast flight experience, both at high altitude and low, sometimes both impressed and scared many who knew him. John knew what he was doing. John often flew low, lifting up over power lines and zig-zagging to avoid flying over any one or any house that he came upon. Once, when someone chided John about his low flying habits by saying that he would scare many GA pilots to death, John simply remarked that “they just don’t have as much fun as I do.”
John lived life to the fullest. To him, quality of life, not the mere quantity of life, was what was most important.
John’s last flying adventure saw him join up with a good friend on a two week flight, first to Monument Valley, Utah for a weekend Kolb gathering and then on to meet with others at the home of another close friend who lived in remote Idaho. These four friends were out flying on that Sunday morning and to state it simply, they were having a blast. It just turns out that this time, instead of ending the day sitting under the wing, recanting the days’ flying highlights, it was spent in sorrow.
We will never know the reason why John was in a steep bank, low enough to imperil his life.
We will never know why John made the decision to venture to the edge of the envelope of safety.
We will never know the “why” of it all.
But we do know that he was there because he chose to be and it was not because of carelessness or stupidity. Even when John was pushing the envelope, he was a cautious pilot, ever conscious of the inherent perils of flight.
As tragic as this all is, take refuge in the fact that John lived well and that he died well. The weather that fateful morning was the best it had been on the entire trip. John was out flying with some good friends in some of the most beautiful country God created. Everyone there said that they were all having more fun than they had had in a long time. Chasing coyotes, following the landscape and feeling the rush of powered flight, John’s last moments on earth were filled experiencing the pure joy of his life’s passion. His passing was quick enough that the joy and pleasures he was filled with were not spoiled by pain and misery.
John lived well and John died well.
Although not a religious man, John was a spiritual man in that he did take solace in the beauty of nature. He went out of his way to photograph the splendor of a vivid sunset and radio chatter was quiet in the serenity high above the indescribable beauty of a solid cloud deck. The area that they were flying in that morning was ruggedly beautiful and if John could have had a say in the place of his demise, he likely would have approved.
John lived well in terms of how he positively touched the lives of those he encountered. The true mark of a man is NOT a measure of the amount of money he has in the bank or the number of possessions with which he surrounds himself.
The true mark of a man is measured by the number of those who care enough to grieve at his passing and the number of those who will gather together to pay their last respects. The true mark of a man can be judged by the number of those who will miss him when he is gone.
All one has to do is look around this room to see that John Williamson was a remarkably wealthy man.
To sum all of this up in one, single, brief statement:
“Arlington Tower, Kolb four- niner- kilo- kilo, ready for takeoff … and headed west.”
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