Click here to subscribe today or Login.
LILY LAKE — The concrete wall sits just below the bridge where Lily Lake empties into a creek.
It looks like a good place to stand and cast out for trout, or maybe pick up a bass, a bluegill or a perch.
It’s the spot where Eric Williams and his older brother, Mark, spent many days doing what they loved — fishing.
Eric loved the place so much, he bought a small house on the lake not far from the bridge. His father, Don, said Eric gutted it and made it new. And he hung a flag of his beloved Seattle Seahawks out front.
The house sits about 75 feet off the lake. The Seahawks flag was waving in the cool late October breeze Friday following the dedication of the Eric J. Williams Memorial Bridge — the very same bridge with the concrete wall where Eric and his big brother loved to fish.
Eric was 34 years old and armed with only handcuffs, skills, common sense, keys and a radio on Feb. 25, 2013 when he was the only corrections officer working a cell block at the U.S. Penitentiary Canaan in Wayne County — the day he was killed by an inmate.
Mark stared out at the lake, remembering fishing with Eric. He grabbed a friend’s fishing pole and threw a line in, hoping to catch something on this day when he and others at the ceremony were remembering his kid brother.
The fish weren’t biting, though. Mark showed me a picture of him and Eric when they were teenagers. Of course, they were fishing.
“That was taken on June 29, 1997,” Mark said.
Memories — good memories — never fade.
As the Rev. James Nash said, everyone attending the ceremony was standing amid nature’s beauty and all were surrounded by memories of Eric.
When state Rep. Gerald Mullery told the crowd he was concerned the bridge was “too small” to carry the name of a hero like Eric Williams, Eric’s father responded.
“This bridge might be small,” he said. “But this tribute is huge.”
Don Williams said he and his family are “small town people” and the location of Eric’s bridge couldn’t be in a better place.
“This is right where Eric would have wanted it,” he said.
Eric’s home sits less than a quarter of a mile away from the bridge. Mark and his wife and family live there now. The Seattle Seahawks flag, a symbol of Eric’s favorite team, still flies out front. An eagle sculpture sits in the yard.
“Eric loved it here,” Mark said.
The bridge is the perfect tribute to Eric. It spans the outlet at Lily Lake. It’s where Eric and Mark had fun — where they laughed and enjoyed Mother Nature’s beauty.
As Eric’s parents continue their efforts to improve working conditions for corrections officers to make them safer on the job, you can’t help but feel the sadness that still fills their hearts.
Don Williams told me it doesn’t get easier for him and his wife.
“It only gets harder,” he said.
Despite a glorious day, with the fall foliage burning across the far side of Lily Lake, this was a sad day. Yes, as Mullery said, it was a celebration of a life well lived and a job well done.
But having to be there, dedicating a bridge to the memory of a young man who devoted his life to his job and who enjoyed nature’s beauty was heart-wrenching.
The speeches paid tribute to a fallen hero. The words were inspirational. And Mother Nature provided a spectacular day for the ceremony.
The old concrete wall beneath the bridge remains, ready to support the next fisherman who drops a line in pursuit of a catch. Eric’s home with the Seahawks flag is just a short walk away.
As Father Nash said, the memories of Eric surround the site, making for a moving, personal tribute to a true hero.
This is Eric Williams’ place. It’s where he had fun, where he loved to be.
And every vehicle that passes over that bridge will know the name Eric J. Williams.
May his memory never fade and may his parents find peace in their diligence to see their son did not die in vain — that his death will result in his colleagues being safer on the job.
And so they can live their lives as Eric dreamed — in a small home on a lake, near a bridge, where the fishin’ was always good.
