William Caldwell Lasseter January 6, 2011 It's May 15, 1953. Jack Lasseter is once again in the waiting room at Rutherford County Hospital anxious to hear about the birth of his and Lola's fourth child. Having already experienced six years with three boys, I don't think it would be a stretch to imagine him thinking about a daughter. Alas it was not to be. Male child number four came into this world, soon to be followed by number five. So William Caldwell Lasseter was born and welcomed into the family. Since Bill never got around to writing his memoirs, a fact we might be grateful for after receiving a few letters from him, we don't know how he viewed his formative years. He grew up with parents that loved him, and brothers who were,well, brothers, both older and younger. Needless to say, he was loved and protected and forced to grow up fast. There may be more than a few here who might question whether that growing up part was ever accomplished, and that may not be a bad thing. He had his share of accomplishments and disappointments. It was, looking back, more or less a typical southern upbringing with a few interesting twists and turns that many of us are familiar with. The last few years have been trying to say the least. Reading the comments that others have posted, he obviously had many friends and the respect of those he worked with. He chose the life he lived and I pray he was happy. Obviously there were aspects he would have given anything to change, but I think he tried to make the best of it. That brings us to where we are today. An interrupted life at the age of 57. He leaves behind three children, Jack, Xara, and Will, who were the focus of his existence,several nieces and nephews, numerous friends, and four brothers,who wish they could steal a little more time. On a personal note, I was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in August of 2010. I was scheduled for surgery and a lengthy schedule of chemotherapy, so I thought it might be a good idea to make a trip to Murfreesboro to touch base with the family. My first stop was Brother Bill. I made three attempts at his apartment without success and gave up. I was cruising downtown for old time sake and decided to stop at Christ Church Episcopal to visit the place where my life took a new direction. Feeling the need for a bit of reflection and prayer in the sanctuary, I was disappointed to find it locked up tight. As I was walking down the sidewalk to my car, I noticed an old hippy approaching carrying a bag of groceries. We shared a few curious looks and we both realized we were face to face with a brother. After a long awaited hug,we went back to his apartment where we had a visit. We said things that needed to be said and maybe some that did not. He told me all about his children, bragging about how beautiful and smart they are. I recently had the privilege of verifying those facts.That is the last time I talked to him. I received a couple of interesting letters from him. Nobody has ever crafted a missive quite like brother Bill. We were both looking forward to spending some time re-connecting once I was able to travel again but that was not to be.I am and always will be grateful for what I believe was a bit of divine management in bringing us together on that sidewalk. So now we lay him to rest with the two souls who loved him as no one else could. Mom and Pop. We all have the privilege in this country of forming our own vision of the after life. My conversations with Bill recently and a few that we had years ago convince me that he was a seeker, and I am convinced that the God I worship welcomes seekers. May he now know the peace and comfort of the God who always loved him, and hopefully realize how much we who gather to remember him love him and that we will always remember him fondly. May the God of peace be with us and help us to learn to love one another. Amen