“Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.” ― Shannon Alder
“Some people, sweet and attractive, and strong and healthy, happen to die young. They are masters in disguise teaching us about impermanence. ― Dalai Lama
Today is St. Patrick’s Day as I begin drafting this reminiscence and tribute to my Uncle Willy. He was born William Roger Mason ― my mother’s favorite ―and beloved ― younger brother. Since I was child when I knew him, he will forever be remembered by his endearment, Uncle Willy.
The importance of St. Patrick’s Day for me is it serves as a reminder of our heritage and ancestry. On my paternal side, my surname is German. My paternal grandmother was half German (Freitag) and half Irish (Flanigan). My paternal grandfather was German, whose family emigrated from the Prussia region of Germany and made a home in Milwaukee, where many Germans landed. Eventually, some members of the family moved to Racine, Wisconsin. I am related in some way to all the Lenzkes in the U.S. by marriage or ancestry.
My mother’s heritage was at least half Dutch. Her mother, Clara Mulder was Dutch and her grandmother emigrated from the Netherlands and were Christian Scientists. Her father’s surname was Mason, and Mom was never certain whether he was Norwegian or Swedish. What I do know from photos and my memories of great aunts and uncles, they were hardy people, some farmers, all were hard workers, with blonde Scandinavian hair, light complexions, and attractive appearance. They had longevity too, when it was rare to live healthy lives into one’s nineties.
William Roger Mason (Uncle Willy)
Why is my heritage important in the telling of this story? I have become the unofficial, designated family historian. I’m the eldest surviving member of our maternal family. In addition to our mother and the generation that preceded her, all her siblings have died. Mom, Ethel Mae Mason, before she married Dad and took his name, had five siblings in this order: Dorothy, Betty, Janet, and her younger brothers, Ron, and Willy. Again, I reiterate, Willy was her favorite brother.
On my paternal side, my father who died this past December, a few days before Christmas, was the last living member of his immediate family, one brother and two sisters. All his aunts and uncles, plus his parents and grandparents are all deceased. I have two cousins who are a few years older than me. Other than them, I’m the family elder. Two of my siblings, both younger than me, Roz and Cindy have died, and I have one brother, Rick, and two sisters, Kelly, and Tami, all younger, who gratefully are living. My sister Tami recently reminded me, we were once a family of eight, two parents and six children, and now we’re a family of four.
An excerpt from a reminiscence, Meditations on Mortality: Grief & Gratitude:
“It’s been a year when grief and gratitude have gone hand-in-hand. I’m at an age when this is the template for the future too. I’m full of grief remembering my friends, family, and loved ones who are no longer present in my life except in memory. The thing about grief and loss, is that we re-experience every death, every loss, with each new letting go.”
Family Historian & Reminiscence Writer
As the family historian and reminiscence writer I believe it’s important to tell the stories of the
generations of family that preceded us. I also personally believe that it’s harmful to keep family secrets or rewrite our history to make it more acceptable to others outside our family. The next generation, if curious, will know some of the family’s history. Read more about the importance of knowing our family history.
As the eldest of my siblings, I have some memories that are not shared by my younger sisters and brother. Our parents essentially gave birth to three families, an ‘oops’ baby, followed by a planned playmate, the next pair separated by six years, and the pattern repeated with another pair six years later. I’m 18+ years older than Tami, the youngest sibling.
Oral history interviews of my parents.
Full Disclosure: I’m reminded by my siblings and family members that we sometimes experience different versions or interpretations of our memories. I confess, I may not always be a 100% reliable witness to our shared history, yet as a writer, and oral historian, I interviewed my parents and recorded their memories growing up as children, and as spouses and parents. Lastly, by the nature of my age, I’ve had first-hand experiences with most of our great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
This is our history. This is our story. This is my first goodbye.
Memories of Willy: My First Goodbye
(Some excerpts from below were previously published in Meditations on Mortality: Grief & Gratitude.)
The first death that I remember vividly was the death of my Uncle Willy, my mother’s youngest brother. When I was a young child, Willy was our babysitter for my sister Roz and I. He was a young adult and my memories of him are his smile, blonde Dutch heritage, his resemblance to David Bowie, and his affection and care for our family. I was probably seven or eight-years-old when our mother received the phone call from her mother delivering the news of Willy’s tragic death.
Besides being close as siblings, Mom and Willy worked together, first, before Mom married Dad when they were still teenagers, they worked at the Dutch Maid Ice Cream Shoppe. Years later, after Mom was married and raising daughters with Dad, they worked together at Motor Specialty, Inc. in Racine, Wisconsin. More about that later.
What I witnessed that day was my mother’s expression of grief without hearing the words from the conversation. She was transformed as she tried to talk and ask questions between the tears and gulps of air as she hyperventilated. I later learned the cause of his death. Willy was with his best friend, a young man who struggled with mental illness and suicide attempts.
Willy was attempting to prevent his friend from committing suicide by shooting himself in the head after a night of drinking. They were in the front seat of a car, a tight, closed space, and wrestled for control of the gun. The gun accidently fired, shooting my uncle in eye, the bullet exiting the back of the head. He was driven to the emergency room by his friend, and died later in the hospital.
I share this remembrance because it’s emblematic of how death transforms us in visceral ways. For me it also became a childhood recurring dream. I’m in the kitchen of my childhood home with my mother as she answers the call from the wall phone and learns of Willy’s death. In the dream I look out the window and see Willy standing in the yard. I run into the living room to tell other family members who I saw, and look out the living room window, and Willy is standing there looking in directly at me. In the dream I can’t speak, I’m mute with grief.
Willy’s Death: A True Crime Story from the 1950s
In February, my sister Tami and I traveled to our childhood home to meet with our brother Rick and review the disposition of Dad’s home and assets. Rick had already met with our sister Kelly. This was also our final opportunity to go through the remaining items in the home before it was sold, mostly photographs, some kitchen items, and miscellaneous memorabilia.
Tami and my last visit home.
Tami and I spent a couple of hours looking at photos. Our parents had many photo albums, plus boxes of photos from vacations, family holidays, and celebrations that spanned decades. There were birth certificates, and baby bracelets, Mom’s metal Social Security Card, and newspaper clippings. We conferred with each other to check if the other had an interest in the photos or ephemera we wanted to keep.
William R. Mason Obituary
Since I’m the eldest and 18, almost 19 years separate Tami and I, she asked me who were some of the people in the photos. One was a studio photograph of Willy as a young man, probably a high school graduation photo. There were newspaper clippings too about his tragic death. I shared my memories with Tami of the shooting that took his life and its impact on our family, especially Mom.
Following is the true crime story as it unfolded in the news, the investigation and trial that followed. Am ironic aspect of this story, family members, including me, watch the current genre of true crime content. Tami in fact has referred to it as ‘murder porn.’ Oh, my!
Timeline of the Shooting, the Investigation, and the Trial
The excerpts below are from the Racine Journal-Times beginning with the fatal shooting of Willy on November 24, 1958.
Bullet Wound Fatal to 19-Year-Old Youth
November 24, 1958 (Front Page)
William Roger Mason, 19, of 2013 Mead St, shot through the head shortly after midnight as he and a 22-year-old friend sat in an automobile parked along a rural road south of the city, died at St. Mary’s Hospital at 5:17 a.m.
The companion, David Anderson of 1538 Packard Ave. who told authorities that Mason killed himself, was taken to Madison for a lie detector test at the State Crime Laboratory.
Authorities quoted Anderson as saying the fatal shooting came as a climax to a “silly talk” between the two concerning suicide, and that he fired two shots through the automobile window before Mason placed the .22 caliber pistol to his own temple and pulled the trigger.
Mason, unmarried, had lived with his mother, Mrs. Charles Holly, and his stepfather, Charles Holly. Relatives said he and Anderson had been friends for several years. Both were employed by Motor Specialty Co., 1319 18th St. — Anderson as a foreman and Mason as a mechanic.
Anderson is also unmarried.
(Anderson) rushed the injured youth to the hospital where startled attendants summoned police. Anderson, finding a rear door locked, had run to another door where he broke a window pane, before he came to the front entrance which was open.
Hospital attendants said they took Anderson to the emergency ambulance door, and that Anderson went to his automobile and carried in Mason, who was unconscious.
Becomes Hysterical
They said Anderson became hysterical and fainted several times. At one point, they said he went out to the car again and returned with the pistol and then fell to the floor in a faint. A physician kicked the weapon from his hand, and the gun was placed in a closet and later turned over to authorities.
Police said that when they arrived at the hospital, Anderson was struggling with attendants and that they had to use handcuffs to restrain him.
Police said Anderson at first told them that Mason had fired two shots through the car window, that he was unable to take the gun away from Mason before Mason shot himself.
Taken to the police station, Anderson changed his account which he said were fired by him.
Mason had spent most of the Sunday afternoon at Anderson’s home as the two drank beer, watched television and listened to records. In the evening they visited several taverns and drove in Anderson’s car, through rural areas of Racine and Kenosha counties.
During the course of the evening, Anderson said, the two talked about suicide. Anderson said that he had attempted suicide previously and was discharged from the armed forces because of suicidal tendencies.
Anderson said that after the two parked along (C)hickory Road, they renewed their discussion of suicide. Anderson who was sitting behind the steering wheel, said he placed the gun between him and Mason. He said Mason refused to pick it up, and he chided him for being “chicken.”
Anderson said he then loaded the pistol with one cartridge, placed it to his head, but before pulling the trigger he removed it from his temple and fired the bullet through the window next to which Mason sat. After reloading the pistol, he placed it between the two of them, and then chided Mason again for “not having nerve.”
He said Mason picked up the gun, said nothing, and then fired into his head.
Agrees to Test
The bullet that had entered Mason’s head near the right eye emerged near the left ear.
Sheriff Thomas Crowe said Anderson agreed to submit to a lie detector test at Madison.
Charge Planned In Gun Death Of Racine Youth
November 24, 1958 (Special)
Racine County Dist. Atty. Dexter Black said Monday night that, as a result of the statements made by David Anderson during the lie detector test, he plans to charge Anderson with negligent homicide in connection with the gunshot death of William Mason.
Crime Lab Exam
Black said Anderson, given a medical discharge from the Army after attempted suicide by slashing his wrists, and Mason spent Sunday afternoon and evening talking about suicide as they drank beer.
Anderson admitted putting the pistol to his head, intent on killing himself, but said Mason grabbed the weapon and it discharged. The bullet shattered the front window of the car.
Meant Business
To show Mason that he “meant business” Anderson said he fired a shot that missed Mason and shattered the window again. Anderson said that Mason grabbed the pistol. When he grabbed Mason’s wrist, Anderson said, the gun discharged. Mason slumped to the seat of the car.
Will Charge Companion in Death of Youth
Dist. Atty. Dexter Black will issue a warrant today charging David Anderson…with negligent homicide in the fatal shooting of William R. Mason.
Questioned during a lie detector test Anderson said that the .22 caliber pistol held by Mason, went off as the two struggled in the parked automobile the district attorney revealed.
Anderson said Mason had been attempting to dissuade him (Anderson) from taking his own life.
“I’m the one who should have died, not he.” Anderson said.
Black said Anderson will be charged under a state statute pertaining to homicide by an intoxicated user of a firearm. Conviction carries a maximum of five years in prison and a $2,500 fine.
Mason who was shot through the head, died at St. Mary’s Hospital five hours after he was brought there by Anderson. He never regained consciousness.
Anderson said that he had been bothered by psychological problems which he discussed with Mason. The district attorney quoted Anderson as saying his difficulties were of a sexual nature, of which Mason had been aware for some time.
Fatal Shooting in Auto Leads to Homicide Plea
David A. Anderson, 22, of 1528 Packard Ave., pleaded guilty in Municipal Court today to a charge of negligent homicide resulting from the fatal shooting, Nov. 24 of William R. Mason of 2013 Mead St. while the two were in a parked car.
Judge Howard DuRocher ordered sentencing postponed until Dec. 23 to permit completion of a presentence investigation. The maximum penalty is five years in prison and a $2,500 fine.
Killing Friend in Auto Nets 5-Year Term
Judge Howard DuRocher said the sentence will be served at the Green Bay reformatory.
The judge said Anderson is in need of psychiatric treatment and he recommended that this be provided for him at the reformatory.
Termed Dangerous
Judge DuRocher termed the defendant as “extremely dangerous both to himself and the community.” He added that Anderson had an earlier record of three suicide attempts — by slashing his wrists, by driving an auto off a cliff, and by attempting to drown himself.
Before sentence was imposed today, Anderson’s attorney told the court if the defendant were placed on probation, a voluntary commitment would be sought to have him placed in the Winnebago State Hospital for treatment as an alcoholic. The attorney blamed “excessive drinking” on Anderson’s part for his involvement in Mason’s death.
The Aftermath
As a young child and preteen, I have vague memories of David Anderson’s brother visiting our parents to make amends on behalf of the Anderson family. My sense of him was that he carried both the shame and grief for the loss of our family and his brother.
I remember how Willy’s death affected our mother and grandmother. Prominently displayed in our grandmother’s living room was the large photo of her six children. I was mesmerized by their images when I visited her home. The portrait was taken when they were young adults for the exception of Willy. It looked like Willy, the youngest, was probably 16-year-old, about the age he was when he babysat my sister Roz and I. I now have that hand-tinted framed portrait as a keepsake.
My sister Roz and I. I’m on the left, Roz on the right. Mom and Dad often dressed us as twins, only the color of our dresses would be different.
Years later, Mom’s older sister Betty, who our family loved and to whom we were very close, when she was about 55-years-old, she committed suicide by a handgun after her common law husband, Les, died from cirrhosis of the liver. Betty was isolated in St. Germaine, Wisconsin. She was alone, depressed, and like Les, an alcoholic. She called our mother the night she killed herself, while she listened to her favorite music and reminisced with our mother.
The Legacy
Unexpected tragic deaths, as a result of alcohol and handguns, have left a legacy for me. I have strong views on guns and will not allow them in my home. I remember having an argument with one of my partners with whom I shared a home. She wanted to store her father’s rifles which she inherited in our home. The fight almost ended our relationship.
I’m also in recovery as an alcoholic. In May this year, it will be 39 years since I became sober. I come from a family where alcohol has been prevalent in both my maternal and paternal families. It has wreaked havoc in my family, including marriages, relationships, deadly DUIs, and gun deaths.
I will always remember Uncle Willy as the playful, affectionate, tenderhearted, and blonde young man of my childhood and reoccurring dream. One year, when friends and I took a road trip to the Wonewoc Spiritualist Camp (see Road Trip below) for an afternoon of psychic readings, my friends had experiences which resonated with them of which they could relate.
I, on the other hand, didn’t have a similar experience. I’m a skeptical person by nature so I attributed it to that. The person who did my reading, looked like the woman tasked with saving the young girl in the movie Poltergeist, said I had an older male figure who was my ‘spirit guide.’ She asked if my father was alive (he was), and did I have a grandfather who might fulfill that role. The answer to that question was an emphatic NO!
I left thinking I apparently didn’t have an older male ‘spirit’ guide,’ until days later, and I was remembering my Uncle Willy. Maybe, in fact, I did have one!
Postscript (or Six Degrees of Separation)
I’m a member of the Racine History Facebook Group. Recently a crime article from 1937 of a raid on an establishment, Marie’s Tea Room, was posted on the site. I realized it was near where our Grandma Clara Holly lived in her home which was a converted storefront. There was a summer kitchen in the back and a small efficiency apartment.
When I posted this reminiscence, the administrator of the history site commented on it, “Wow, I was reading this story and started to think it sounded familiar, and sure enough, 2013 Mead Street came up and that’s why.”
What I didn’t realize and connect the dots at the time, was 2013 Mead St., which was formerly Marie’s Tea Room the site of the 1937 raid, after it was shut down became my Grandmother Holly’s home where Willy lived. Oh, my!
In one more six degrees of separation, one of the police officers at the raid was a Lenzke, one of my great uncles, a Racine Police Officer.
Following is the original full story:
Marie’s Tea Room, 2013 Mead Street, Raided by Police Racine Journal-Times, February 7, 1937.
Five policemen raided “Marie’s Tea Room” at 2013 Mead street Friday evening, arresting Marie Parker, the proprietor, and Ruby Christie, an inmate. The latter was held at the county jail. Two charges were made against the proprietor, one of maintaining a disorderly house and the other of selling intoxicants. A “John Doe” figured in the case, police alleging that he was sold a drink of intoxicating liquor. The raid conducted by the police morals squad and Policemen Keys, Scholz and Lenzke, followed the arrest in the tea room a few evenings earlier of Clarence Witt, 2015 Clark street, on a charge of interfering with members of the morals squad when they were questioning the proprietor in a case on which they were working and in which a woman was involved. Friday morning Witt, who denied the charge, made accusations of over officiousness against a member of the morals squad, but Judge E. R. Burgess found him guilty of the charge and fined him $10 and costs.”
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!
Meditations on Mortality: Grief & Gratitude
The Loud Family Loses a Loved One
Additional Reading on the Topic