Robert "Bob" Lester Williams, III

He came from modest beginnings, but he never thought small.Born into a military family, his early life was a map of movement — different places, new faces, always a new chapter around the corner. That upbringing gave him a restless curiosity, a need to explore, and a hunger to build something better than what he started with.

He worked for everything he had. Starting as a bank teller, he climbed his way up to become a Vice President of Commercial Lending. Not because it was handed to him, but because he wouldn’t stop until he earned it. At his core, he cared about family. For many years, his family was a small one — me and my grandmother, especially after my grandfather passed. But everything changed after the passing of his brother Kenny. It was through that loss that we reconnected with our relatives in Austria. Ties that had faded over time were carefully rebuilt. That reconnection opened the door to a new chapter for us, and we spent summers traveling together, visiting family in Austria and walking the streets of Hungary where my grandmother was born. He didn’t just show me places; he taught me how to chase experiences; to ask why, and to never settle. It reminded us both that no matter how far life scatters people, some bonds are meant to be restored — and new ones created. 

He had a way of collecting people.

Over the years, his circle stretched far beyond blood relatives. Friends became brothers, neighbors became family, and strangers became lifelong companions. Some he met through work, others along his travels, and a few in the most unexpected of places. It didn’t matter where they came from — Austria, New York, Hungary, or the small neighborhoods of Florida — if you earned his trust, you were in for life. His home was always open, his phone always answered, and his loyalty ran deep. To him, family wasn’t just about who shared your name, but about who showed up, who stood beside you when it counted, and who you could count on when the rest of the world went quiet. That extended family became part of my world too, and through them, I learned the value of building your own tribe wherever you go. And especially lately, I’ve been able to lean on all of those he held close to him — proof that the bonds he built outlast the man himself.

Like a lot of fathers and sons, we didn’t always see eye to eye.

 For a while, I worried we’d run out of time to fix that. But we found our way back, and in the end, I realized how much of who I am came from him. My stubbornness. My need to explore. My belief that if something’s not right, you fix it. The way I value the people closest to me — those tight, loyal circles of friends and family you lean on when it counts.  After he died, I thought about all the things he taught me without even realizing it at the time.

It wasn’t always easy.

                              It wasn’t always perfect.

                                                 But it mattered.

                                                              And it made me who I am.