No. 6: "In every work bag."

To Claire Williams, by way of her surviving children.

Claire, 

I am going to let you in on a little secret since it’s been so long. I am bad at attending funerals. By the time I was 26, I’d been invited to some two dozen memorials of friends, family, and others who were close to me. Over time, I just quit attending them because I have always been bad at saying goodbye. 

But when you died, I showed up. I came back home to Houston, Texas to see you one last time. You saved my life and I am not sure you know that you did. 

When I came back to Houston in November of 2006, I had two options and both involved oil rigs. The only obstacle that stopped me from pursuing that path was the news that I was going to become a father sooner than expected. Lindsey didn’t want me gone for months at a time. 

After six months of odd jobs, I went back to college in the summer of 2007. After two semesters and one summer of 23+ hours per semester, I completed my second senior year. But I will be honest, I had no idea what I’d do with a college education at that point. After going through what I had, you aren’t hired by anyone anywhere. That $45,000 loan that I took out was one of many leaps of faith over the next decade or so.

Here’s what you did for me: 

Coming out of college, we had less than little. Between fatherhood (Alexis was six months old), debt owed to the Coast Guard, and new college loans: I had about 7-14 days to find a job after graduation. And we were in the middle of the worst recession in 70+ years.

Three lawyers from the Lanier Law Firm offered me a job after taking me to lunch one day. I’d met our boss (Mark Lanier) while volunteering at Champion Forest Baptist Church and he directed me to a few of his top attorneys. Sight unseen, one gave me a job joining you as a legal assistant. Working at a firm of that size and stature was my first taste of hope. Though I was earning just $28,000, my time there meant stability that I did not know I could achieve.  

And then, after six or seven months, I was called into Mark’s office after someone anonymously called the firm demanding that I be fired for the headlines made about my experience at the Academy. Lanier brought in his private investigator and the firm’s leadership and they all sat around me in that room. Before I walked in, I was told that it was probably my last day. 

But then, I was told that you vouched for me. And that others followed your lead. A billionaire lawyer and his millionaire team followed the lead of a single mom and reformed drug addict from New Orleans. I left Mark’s wood paneled office in tears when he told me to get back to work. Your desk wasn’t too far away and you just winked at me. 

“Now get back to work, Webby.”

Had I lost that opportunity, I am not sure how I would have recovered. The Lanier Law Firm (and you in particular) set the tone for what I believed about people and second chances.

I left maybe a year later in 2010, finishing over two years of trial work for the firm. So when I heard that you developed an aggressive form of cancer in 2011, I cried like you’d seen me do so many times before. Though you were just 48 years old when you died, your impact was enormous. Your story was an incredible one so you were especially equipped to give to others what had been given to you. 

When you died, I kept your memorial program. I still have it. It’s been in every work bag that I have ever owned. I always felt that if you were watching over me, I would be okay. 

A lot of us miss you, Claire. I have had tremendous setbacks in the decade since your passing but our daughters have never gone hungry. In fact, we found a way to help them become exceptional. If I ever become what you believed I’d be, please know that it was only possible because of you. Your children are saying the same.

Lesson: if someone lifts you up, you owe it to do the same for others.

My gratitude, 

Web