Williams goes out how he planned, with loving tributes
Shree Ram came out of the 9 a.m. service Sunday at Glide Memorial Church, saw a line and joined it. There was something more important than church in the procession, and Ram was willing to wait two hours in San Francisco’s cold fog for the chance to say goodbye to the Rev. Cecil Williams, co-founder and minister of liberation at Glide.
“I think it is crucial to acknowledge Cecil Williams’ commitment to love and acceptance,” said Ram, who lives at Point Reyes Station. “I’m here to honor the life of Cecil and all that he has done for the community.’’
So, too, were Joan Baez, Tom Johnston of the Doobie Brothers and singer-songwriter Michael Franti, as well as a raucous Dixieland jazz band that led a second line into Glide Memorial. The Tenderloin church was packed to its rafters with extra chairs, arranged in the aisle a full hour before the memorial service began.
“The spirit I remember from the ’60s is all here today,” said Baez, before leading a singalong.
Once the celebration of life started, it would go on all afternoon to accommodate speeches by veteran activist Angela Davis, Rep. Barbara Lee, Mayor London Breed, Da Mayor Willie Brown and Renel BrooksMoon, who in earlier years would have been PA announcing a Giants home game at the precise moment she was honoring Williams. Brooks-Moon wore her 2014 World Series ring to the pulpit and thanked Williams for being the only reverend willing to regularly appear on her KMEL hip-hop radio show, “the Morning Zoo.”
“Rev. Cecil Williams was always the heartbeat of San Francisco,” said Davis, who was first invited to speak at Glide af
ter she was fired from the faculty at UCLA for being a communist. “I cannot imagine the city without this heartbeat. Cecil was always there for those who are under attack.”
Vice President Kamala Harris, Rep. Nancy Pelosi, former Rep. Jackie Speier, Gov. Gavin Newsom and Glide benefactor Warren Buffett sent video tributes.
“Long ago, Cecil Williams brought his heart to San Francisco, and it was a wonderful thing,” Buffett said in a tribute cut short by technical difficulties.
“Cecil Williams was one of the greatest ministers to be found south of heaven and north of hell,” said the Rev. Amos Brown, whose tribute on behalf of Harris exceeded the two-minute maximum. Others complained about the limit.
Glide board member Del Seymour, who is in his 70s, joked that he is so old it took his allotted two minutes to get to the podium.
The charismatic Williams, who came to Glide Memorial in 1963, embodied the church and the struggle for 60 years, right up until the day he died, April 22, at 94. Even in death he was still in control. The entire program for his memorial was planned and orchestrated by Williams. There were 30 speakers and performers, and Williams gave them each two minutes to speak, though he did not plan for some of them to spend half of their allotted time crying from the podium.
“Cecil is still speaking and echoing in reverberation like a musical voice,” said his daughter, Kim Williams. “It will echo into eternity.”
Williams selected the musical program as put forth with all the power of the Change Band and the Glide Ensemble. The event was celebratory from the start, with the people in the pews standing and shouting, swaying and singing, and holding hands in group prayer as much as they were seated in solemn reflection.
Franti, customarily shoeless, taught the audience to sing along with the chorus, “I hope I come back as a song,” and had people not only standing, but jumping.
When the church itself filled to overflowing, people filed into a downstairs room to watch it on video, or outside on Ellis Street where a block party was set up with a Jumbotron. After the ceremony ended around 3:30 p.m., an open mic was set up for the public to pay tribute.
“He did so much for San Francisco,” said Vesta Ghavamzadeh, who was the first person in line, starting at 10 a.m. “He was an example of what humanity should be, full of hope.”
Retired United National Methodist minister Ron Swisher put on a pink tie and matching fedora and drove down from his home in Fairfield to thank Williams for the guidance he gave Swisher in a 51year career.
“I wanted to celebrate his life and his ministry. That’s why I came,” Swisher said from his seat in the pews. “He would take the risk of doing things differently, and that took courage.”
Johnston, of the Doobie Brothers, sang with his daughter, Lara Johnston.
“Families get up and sing together. That’s what we need to do,” said Johnston, before leading an electrified rendition of the hit “Listen to the Music.”
That was a big part of the memorial message, moving it along through the generations.
“I’m in awe of Cecil. What he did for the community continues,” Johnston said, beforehand. “People can count on it, and there’s not a lot of that left.”