William Evans King, born September 22, 1928 in Muskogee Oklahoma, which had become the 46th State just 21 years prior to his birth. He grew up in the small town of Checotah Oklahoma, a few miles down the road from Muskogee. Before statehood Checotah was on the border of the Creek Nation and Cherokee Nation, so Dad’s blended Cherokee - European heritage was not unusual. (click the pics for larger)
I feel lucky he was my father, he was one of the kindest and gentle men I have known. As I matured I appreciated more and more that he was one of the great blessings in my life.
I became a bit of a rebel in my teens. He didn’t like it, but he never stopped loving me, and when I was ready to grow up a little bit he picked up right where we had left off. At one point he even took some responsibility for my waywardness, saying, “you know, your mother and I made just about every mistake in the book with you kids”. I don’t know how true that is, but I sure felt loved when he said it. And I remember it now as an example of his humility and generosity of spirit.
Dad was good at leading with vulnerability and "owning his stuff".
He was my first “health educator”. He read Adelle Davis, and every morning served Diana and me a healthy breakfast before sending us off to school. I didn’t always follow his “prescriptions”, but came back around when it was time for me to take better care of my health. He was quiet and steady, he taught us through his example.
He and my mother divorced in 1971 when I was 20 and Diana was 18. He met his future wife Carol January 10 1976, and then they married exactly 5 years later January 10 1981. He told Carol, "this will help me to remember our anniversary", and I'll bet he never forgot it. I've heard more than once Carol say how impressed she was by his honesty on their first date.
Sometime later, after he and Carol had been married quite awhile, he turned to me at one point and said with great earnestness, “Dave, the most important thing in marriage is compatibility. If you don’t have that it’s going to be difficult”. He didn’t teach with words too often so that has always stuck with me even though I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant at that point. I suppose he had learned it the hard way as most of us do.
When he passed yesterday June 13, 2020, Carol was by his side. He had been quite still for two days with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and looked out the window, then he turned to Carol and looked at her. Then he closed his eyes and was gone.
I’ve never seen a better relationship than theirs. On more than one occasion he would put his hand on her shoulder, or his arm around her waist and say “Dave, I love this woman”. It was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. Carol and Dad never stopped enjoying each other’s company, and they always took good care of each other.
Diana, Dad, and Carol
Carol has a daughter Misha, and Misha has two children Shelly and Paul Joe. They are all exceptional human beings, and Dad loved them very much. His family with Carol was one of the great joys of his life.
This is the last photograph I took of my beautiful Father at 91 years of age when I was with them over the New Years holiday about 6 months ago. Farewell sweet man, My Beloved Father.
When the Ripe Fruit Falls
When the ripe fruit falls
its sweetness distills and trickles away into the veins of the earth.
When fulfilled people die
the essential oil of their experience enters
the veins of living space, and adds a glisten
to the atom, to the body of immortal chaos.
For space is alive
and it stirs like a swan
whose feathers glisten
silky with oil of distilled experience.
DH Lawrence
Dad's final resting place
