In wishing all good people a #HappyFathersDay2020, this is the third part of the three greatest men I will ever meet in my life - my paternal grandfather, Eugene B. Williams. He was born in King George County, VA, the oldest of six - two boys, three girls. THREAD

When I was 16 and in the 11th grade at Friendly Senior High School, we were to interview the most interesting person we could find. Of course my friends snagged Maureen Bunyan and Jim Vance ( @shomaristone). I interviewed my grand dad, whom I knew NOTHING ABOUT.

He didn't want to talk to me. Men in those days didn't really talk that much about themselves. Then I used a ploy from Alex Haley when he interviewed Malcolm X:

"Tell me about your mother and father."

It all started coming out. He was orphaned at about 11 years old. He doesn't really talk about what happened to his parents, but he and his siblings were raised by a family by the name of James MacDonald - a white, Irish family who had about 8 children of their own.

Gene walked to Washington, DC when he was 16, and got a job at a delivery company. He went to a night club and saw Elizabeth King, a 5'11" trumpet player for a local jazz band. At 5'3", he asked her out for a date. She accepted.

He walked her home, where she introduced him to her 3 year old son. She was embarrassed at the time (again, this was the 1930s) to have a child outside of marriage. Gene picked him up, had fun with him, and said "may I see you again"? "Of course."

The next date, he asked her to marry him. She thought he'd lost his mind. "I will adopt your son also. We will be a wonderful family." They got married in two weeks on her birthday - December 6, which was also the day of her son's birthday (and my mother's as well).

Life was hard in Washington, DC during the Depression, but it was better than King George County, VA. Soon their family expanded, and Gene had a good job at a dental supply company.

Then WWII happened.

"Gene, there's a government letter in there with your name on it," my grand ma said in tears. They had 5 children, his mother-in-law lived with him, and she was pregnant.

WITH TWINS.

Indeed, this was his draft notice.

He was a quartermaster attached to the 761st Armored Tank Battalion, and was gone for two years. His battle campaign: G033WD45 - Central Europe. He was part of the Battle of the Bulge, and earned 6 ribbons, leaving as a PFC.

When he got to Union Station in DC, a white man walked up to him.

"Why don't you go back to Africa where you belong"?

He thought his fight in WWII would have ended this lunacy.

He built a life. His wife became a licensed barber and played trumpet in bands on weekends; had a total of 13 children; in addition to his job as a delivery man, he also was a number runner on Capitol Hill. His son got married. He's the shortest person the right.

He taught himself to remember anything in the Army; that's why he had the side job running numbers to feed his family. He had a game; if there was a group of people, he'd tell them if he could remember the serial number from their money, he'd get the bill.

If not, he'd double their money. So if you had a dollar, and he couldn't remember the number, you got two dollars. I've seen him do that with more than 15 people. He never lost a bet.

I went with him as he collected numbers. He went to over 60 homes, no paper or pencil, and remember each and every number + how much they bet. One day, a woman said he forgot her number and was owed $10. He just paid the woman and left it at that.

"That woman is lying." "How did you know?" "I don't remember numbers, I remember pictures. For the same reason you can't buy a Whopper from McDonald's, that's why."

He taught me the system, but you gotta do it every day.

I found out he marched in the 1963 March on Washington, and was threatened with the loss of his job. Where he lived had, at least, 25 people living there at one time. "We always have room for one more at the dinner table." Indeed, we had WHOLE FAMILIES living with us - for free.

He had a brother in law, a son, and two sons-in-law who fought in Vietnam, a war he opposed. One, Charles, didn't make it back. It had to have been the saddest day of his life.

Every year, he would walk from 12th to 5th Street, to help my maternal grand mother fix her home. Along with my mom, brother and sister, he'd stay all day, and I'm in his pocket, asking question after question.

When Dr. King was killed, I was 8 years old. I was devastated. He came to the house, and I was a mess, shaking with tears.

"Grand dad, what are we going to do now?"

"Son, graveyards are filled with irreplaceable men and women. It's your turn now."

"Why did you March in 1963?"

"I have all the civil rights I'm ever going to have. I didn't march for myself. I marched for you, your children and your grandchildren. I marched so YOU WON'T HAVE TO."

He died six months after I interviewed him. I got a B on the paper. He left me with a lot of wisdom and quotes I use to this very day; many of these he got when he was in "the service."

"The most important decision you will ever make? Who will be your wife. From that one decision 90% of your happiness, or 90% of your unhappiness, will come. Choose wisely."

"Be brave, or at lease pretend to be. No one can tell the difference."

"Anything you do can get you shot, including doing nothing. So do something."
"The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire."
"When you are running out of everything except the enemy, you are in combat."

"It's not the one with your name on it; it's the one addressed 'to whom it may concern' you've got to be worried about."
"Government is supposed to solve our problems. But a lot of times the answer to our problems are right there. What are you going to do about it?"

"There are two type of people on the planet. There are those few people who find a damn way. All others are finding excuses."

"The diversion you are ignoring is actually the main attack."