Fred’s dad was drunk. I really shouldn’t know this, but my mother talked about him. She loved to talk about him. She would ask me to fetch the cookies from beneath her bed and talk about him. She kept a steady supply of Danish Wedding cookies under her bed along with potato chips and some chocolate weight loss candies called Ayds. I remember one day I was in the front yard playing with Percy the monkey and my mother came outside, which was unusual. She was not an outside person. It was late afternoon, maybe 4PM. She said she came to get me because Fred’s dad should be driving down the street soon and he would be drunk. Of course, she was in a nightgown and wearing a wig. Our mother had naturally dark hair and the wig was blonde, which I think upset Percy. He leaped on top of her and snatched the wig from her head and instantly climbed the tree in his yard. And sure enough, Fred’s dad rounded the corner in his old red pickup truck, driving slowly and swerving. He made it home safely. She glared at him as he drove, and she seemed to get angry that he made it home.
Distraught over her wig, she went inside screaming about Fred’s dad and Percy and how they ruined her day. I went to the tree and begged Percy to come down with the wig, but he didn’t. Aunt Miriam even came out and pleaded with him. But he ignored us and sat on a branch and tore the wig to shreds.
My birthday is in October. I don’t know what it’s like now, but when I was a child, October birthdays were taboo or something. It really messed up the school year. I remember it so well. One day, Sherwood Elementary, I was sitting in 3rd grade, and they came and got me and put me right back in the 2nd grade. I went home and told my mother, and she just shrugged. My mother was a drug addict. She forged prescriptions and had doctors all over town writing prescriptions for little blue pills with OP printed on them. I remember her also eating green capsules with little white beads in them. The green capsules were so pretty. I learned later that the pills were speed, but my mother never got out of bed. I helped her from time to time by lighting cigarettes for her on the gas stove. I puffed on them sometimes when I walked back down the hall but never inhaled. Salem’s.
One day I walked home from school. My mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so I went to open the door, and it was locked. I peered through the front window and the house was empty. Everything was gone except for the ironing board. It was in the kitchenette. I remember the sun shining into the house from the back windows, everything looked yellow. The ironing board looked so lonely. I remember feeling so horrible about the ironing board. The fact that my parents and sisters were gone didn’t occur to me. Why did they leave the ironing board? That did not make sense! My dad used that ironing board all the time!
The best I remember is I walked next door to Aunt Miriam’s. Aunt Miriam wasn’t related to us. But she had a niece and nephew who she kept all the time, Chris and Sheryl. We were friends. She also had a monkey named Percy. Percy was also our friend. Aunt Miriam’s house was always dark and smelled of animal urine and cigarette smoke. I spent the night there one night and everyone woke up in the middle of the night because Jewel Dawn was home and Aunt Miriam was making fried squash. Jewel Dawn was Chris and Sheryl’s mom. She was an overnight telephone operator. It gets kind of blurry, but I am sure that Miriam found my dad and he picked me up.
The day I came home to an empty house, our mother was gone.
And so it was just my dad, my sisters and me. Seemingly overnight, we had a new house, a new school and a new life. I remember missing my mother because I thought I was supposed to, but the truth is that I didn’t. I woke up one morning in our new home to the sound of my dad unfolding the ironing board. Seals and Crofts were playing on the stereo. Summer Breeze. I was home.
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I wrote my dad’s obituary.
William Gowen Webb, 81, of Memphis, Tennessee, passed away on Sunday, February 2, 2025. Born in Memphis on September 24, 1943, to Dr. C.R. and Martha Webb, his family relocated to Ripley, Tennessee, in the 1950s to establish his father’s rural medical practice. He attended Ripley High School, achieved the rank of Eagle Scout, and was a member of the Kappa Alpha Order at Millsaps College in Jackson, Mississippi, before graduating from Memphis State University.
Bill had three brothers, Kirby, John and Ray. Their small-town upbringing instilled in him the importance of hard work, nature, simplicity, commitment, and strong bonds with friends and family. These values shaped the man he became.
With his three children, Leigh, Lynne, and Bill Jr., he aimed for success in all aspects of his life. Family was paramount, and weekends were typically spent in Ripley with his parents and brothers. The Mississippi River was their summer playground, offering countless Sundays of swimming and water skiing.
Weeknights were a blend of family and passion for Bill. After preparing dinner for his kids, he’d retreat to his garage, the hum of his band saw often echoing into the evening. While some neighbors occasionally grumbled, they couldn’t deny his skill and frequently sought his advice about their own projects.
Bill’s love for golf had an unexpected payoff: his mother, with a touch of matchmaking, introduced him to Jo, the woman who would become his best friend and wife. Their first date, a summer day spent on a Mississippi River delta with friends and family, was a promising start. After a few years of dating, they married and settled in Memphis, with Jo’s son, Blonie becoming part of their newly formed family.
His role as Executive Vice President of External Affairs at Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Memphis provided him with more than just a career; it fostered a strong sense of community. His colleagues became close friends, a bond strengthened by their shared love of Pickwick. He and Jo purchased a second home there, enjoying countless hours at the lake with their friends and family.
A die-hard University of Memphis fan, Bill’s passion for men’s basketball and football was evident. He traveled to away games for both teams, and his season tickets, held since his Memphis State graduation, underscored his unwavering support.
Family was Bill’s heart, the wellspring of his strength and inspiration. He loved his wife, Jo, his children, and his beloved grandchildren with all his being. They were his greatest joy, filling his life with immeasurable happiness. Each moment shared was treasured, woven into the fabric of lasting memories. His devotion to family, a value instilled in his youth, shaped his character. He leaves behind a legacy woven with love.
He is preceded in life by his parents, Dr. CR Webb and Martha Webb of Ripley. He leaves his brothers Kirby (Leta), John (Sally), Ray (Martha). Children, Bill, Jr. (Robin), Leigh Robinson (Greg), Lynne, Blonie (Hayley), his wife of 44 years, Jo and his grandchildren, nieces, nephews and a host of friends around the world. While death is inevitable, true living is a choice. Bill chose to live.
Bill Webb, Jr. 