Remembering Ben Williams, Lawrence Academy’s 42nd Headmaster

Ben Williams was the Headmaster at Lawrence Academy from 1969 to 1984, a friend and a legend to generations of students and faculty, and ever a bright example of uncommon humanity. The love of family and of place was central to Ben’s being.

Ben transformed Lawrence Academy. The programs and activities of the school today are grounded in the care and creativity he invested in the school over his tenure. Lawrence Academy became coeducational through his lead (rediscovering its founding composition and spirit from 1793). Winterim came into being through his lead. The school became a member of the ISL through his lead.

The school acquired its modern, familiar, supportive character through Ben Williams’ lead, through his sense of purpose and humanity.

Ben’s oldest son, Benjamin D. Williams IV, with support from brothers Joe and Fred, wrote a wonderful obituary for their dad. Here are some excerpts:

Ben Williams died on Tuesday, March 7, one day shy of his 87th birthday. “I know what’s coming,” he wrote recently, “and I have no regrets. Do I want to leave my family and all that means so much to me? Hell no … but I have had more than my share of the best that life has to offer.” Speaking of the love of his life, who passed away in 2007, Ben wrote, “When the lights go out, I’m going to find Nan. We’ve been apart too long.”

Born in 1936, Ben was the oldest of three children who would remain incredibly close throughout their long lives. Said Ben’s brother Rodney, “I miss my sister Isobel every day.” She passed in 2013. “And now I will miss my brother every day. They were my best friends on this earth.”

Ben, Rod, and Isie were raised by parents who were “the best possible examples of how to build a contributing and meaningful life.” Ben took their lessons to heart. From his father, who was in the brokerage business but was first and foremost a soldier and a veteran of both World Wars, Ben learned the importance of discipline, principle, and commitment. From his mother he gained patience, an agile and inquisitive mind, empathy, and compassion. And from both he acquired his love of wild things and wild places. Avid outdoorspeople, they taught Ben to respect all life and the land on which we all depend.

Ben lived a life of service to aspirations and intentions, communities and relationships that he believed were greater by far than himself. He learned of such commitments not solely from his parents but from the communities he joined: St. Paul’s School, Princeton University, the United States Marine Corps, Pomfret School, Lawrence Academy, Robert College, The Rivers School, the Wyndham Land Trust, and Connecticut Audubon.

In each place he found not just purpose and passion but friendships that would define his life, meaning in learning, and a fundamental appreciation of the unique talents and aptitudes that distinguish every person. Such insights are not easily won, and Ben was fond of pointing out that his entrance into the world of scholarship and human endeavor was auspicious in all the wrong ways.

Ben did his undergraduate work at Princeton in sociology, showing even as a student a keen interest in the construction of culture and the manner in which communities build common purpose. He joined the Ivy Club and became a standout oarsman for the men’s heavyweight crew, ultimately rowing for the Department of the Navy after earning his degree in 1957. He competed in the U.S. Olympic trials in 1960, losing with his mates by mere inches to a University of Washington crew that went on to win the gold medal.

As a Marine Corps officer after college, Ben served for a time as a drill instructor at Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Va. Though he held other posts in the Corps, including serving as a captain in the Ceremonial Guard Company in Washington, D.C., charged with protecting the president of the United States, his work with officer candidates gave Ben an inkling that education might well be his calling.

But Ben’s life was about far more than his vocation. “I have so many interests,” he was fond of saying. “I am never bored.”

Moths attracted the lion’s share of Ben’s attention, so much so that he awoke in the wee hours of each morning to check lights he had set up to attract the night-flying insects. Everywhere he went, nationally and internationally, Ben carried his trademark butterfly net and collecting equipment. He was published in the Lepidopterist’s Journal on more than one occasion and was connected to a huge network of entomologists around the country.

Asked not long before his passing how he would like to be remembered, Ben answered with his typical humble candor, “I love life and embrace its adventures. The better ones I celebrate, the less so were lessons learned. I hope I qualify as a good friend and someone who may be counted on. I’d like to think that my shortcomings were not excessive and that my mistakes were forgivable. Given the qualities which I have so admired, respected, and valued in the four-legged members of our family over the years, I’d like to be remembered as a good old dog.”

In truth, Ben Williams was so much more. He was the center around which his family revolved; an inspiration to his three sons, all of whom currently lead boarding schools; a vibrant presence in the lives of his nine grandchildren; and the living embodiment of kindness, care, and hope. To borrow from poets Raymond Carver and Wendell Berry, Ben was “beloved on the earth.” And though he has now left it, may he come into the peace of wild things … and the presence of still water. May he feel above the day-blind stars waiting with their light and for all time rest in the grace of the world, and be free.

A celebration of Ben’s life will be held on Aug. 27, 2023, at the Connecticut Audubon Society in Pomfret. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Ben’s memory to the Connecticut Audubon Society at P.O. Box 11, Pomfret Center, CT 06259 or the Wyndham Land Trust at P.O. Box 302, Pomfret Center, CT 06259.

Arriving at Lawrence in 1969 as a young teacher of 33, Ben Williams had no idea of the turbulence that lay ahead as he sought to rejuvenate a venerable school that had become set in its ways.

Some of the turmoil was of his own making, as hallowed hallmarks of LA life — required bedtime, demerits, even coats and ties — disappeared, to be replaced, not always smoothly, by a new order.

Other upheavals came from without: the Vietnam War, drugs, worldwide student unrest. Through it all, Ben kept the courage of his convictions. Especially in the first few years, the task was not easy: Faculty were divided, sometimes bitterly, and many of the old guard moved on; students clamored for more control over their education.

Ben was a good listener who believed strongly in democratic government and in the importance of community — a word he used often. Being human, he made mistakes; when he did, he always owned up to them and did his best to make things right.

After 15 years, Ben understood that there wasn’t much more he could do for LA, and he and Nan moved on to other pursuits. He announced his departure in a morning assembly one winter day. “There’ll never be another Lawrence,” he told the students, his voice cracking.

The Academy remained close to Ben’s heart for the rest of his life. He served on the Board of Trustees for a number of years and was a regular presence at Reunion and other school functions, right up to last June’s celebration of 50 years of Winterim, a program whose genesis he oversaw. The campus changed over the more than 50 years since Ben first set foot on the hillside, but the heart and soul of the school he loved, and which he re-made, are the same as ever.

There’ll never be another Ben Williams.

Many members of the larger Lawrence community — alumni, present and former faculty, friends — have written notes of condolence, both on the LA website and on the website of the Tillinghast Funeral Home. We offer a sampling here, leaving the writers anonymous:

Graduate: Ben was the epitome of what a headmaster should be. He had such a presence; you were almost a little nervous around him and weren’t sure you wanted him to notice you. But when you got to know him, you realized how incredibly caring and warm he was.

Graduate: I have one incredibly clear moment of interaction with Ben when I was at LA. I was sitting on a hill overlooking the sports fields, just taking a moment. Ben came over and sat down next to me. I wondered what I had done ... if I was in trouble, perhaps. Why else would the Headmaster come find you? But no ... he came to tell me that I had made the honor roll! I was blown away. The fact that this large-looming man of such great importance, with so many other things on his plate, took the time to come tell me, in person, that I had done well in my studies.

I will never ever forget it. And I will never forget how wonderful it made me feel.

Former faculty: Ben Williams was the reason I chose to spend my life at Lawrence Academy. I had grown to love the school before he came, but his inspiring leadership through some difficult years, his honesty, approachability, decency, and great kindness towards everyone, along with his clear vision for Lawrence’s future, clinched the deal for me. Thank you, Ben.

Graduate: I remember him as a perfect gentleman with a great heart, who could get tough when necessary but always seemed to have that great ability to handle any situation with compassion. He seemed to know every student’s name immediately, and he had an almost uncanny ability to sense each one’s individual needs. Everyone was always treated with dignity and a definite feeling that you were valued and were going to go out in the world and do good things … I feel lucky to have been a student at LA during Mr. Williams’ tenure.

Former faculty: In his lifetime, Ben touched lives of thousands. In our sadness, we can only take comfort in the privilege of having known him.

Graduate: Mr. Williams’ influence on the ethos of LA cannot be overstated, and I know his impact lives on at the school to this day. I often say that LA changed the course of my life for the better, and standing above the many teachers and peers, who I remember so fondly, is Mr. Williams. I point to him as one of the most influential people in my life.