EULOGY for WILLIE YEE
It is an honour to be asked by Will's family to give the eulogy at his funeral. I told David how worried I felt because I had never given a eulogy before. David said it would be easy, because Will couldn't bear long funerals, so I had to keep the eulogy short. See? Will is still making life easy for me, as he did for everyone he encountered.
If Will had never once appeared on Life Without Borders, there would still be as many people here today to pay their respects at his funeral, because Willie Yee wasn't just a wonderful weatherman; Willie Yee was a wonderful man. What a good fellow he was. I bet there's not a single person here who ever had a bad experience with Will. That's what we share today, our love, our loss, of Willie Yee.
William June Yee, born March 16, 1958, and raised in one of the finest and most honourable families in Fort Qu'Appelle. In his family's grocery store, Will garnered an excellent understanding of customer service and good citizenship. I remember how much Jenny White appreciated Will, because when he delivered her groceries, he brought them into the kitchen, of course-but then he not only unpacked them for her, he also put them away in the cupboards. Jenny was single, elderly, and, in the end, blind, but even before she was blind or even before she was elderly, she was short, and Will saw she could use his help in reaching things, and he did what he saw was needed.
Will was respectful, generous, kind, and sensitive, ways he learned from his family. His father, who died when Willie was fairly young, thought he was a good boy, smart, even though he was very shy. Will is with him now. In the family grocery store, Will sorted the return bottles into their rightful cases-in those days, glass bottles were returned to the bottlers for re-use-Will set them straight in their cases and lined them all up.
And Will loved tidying the shelves in the grocery so that customers entered an orderly, good-looking store. Will tidied at Hanson's Hardware, too. In waiting on a customer, he'd straighten things as he looked along a shelf for the piece of merchandise the customer wanted. I bet we've all seen him do that: he locates the shelf of say, the extension cord we need, and as he is quickly-always quickly-going along the shelf to get to the right extension cord, Will tucks, straightens, fusses, aligns, bundles, re-sorts, and generally trims things up until he reaches what he's after. Make every moment count. Look after things. Notice things. That was his training, that was his work ethic. And we all saw it in Will as he worked at the grocery store and at the hardware store. Neatness counted-in the store, always. But not necessarily at home. His mother, Jean, says Will was more relaxed at home; oh, he made his bed, yes, always had a very neat bed, but other things.. he could let go of them-usually on the living room floor.
Hanson Hardware is now Home Hardware, but for the longest time it was Hanson's, another one of the oldest family businesses in the Fort. A knowledgeable fellow on a a multitude of topics, Will was a real dynamo at the store. If he waited on you, you finished your shopping early. The Energizer Bunny is a slow poke compared to Will.
When people describe Will, they talk about how pleasant he was, smiling, a brightness that lifted a person's spirit. Will Yee was helpful, you could count on him to give you a hand if you needed him. In the community, he volunteered for countless projects over the years; for example, with his artwork: the Mid-Summer's Arts Festival, the logos for the Fort Knox supporters' which he painted on the ice surface at the rink; he worked on floats, signs, banners, flags; for twenty years he designed and painted Grad posters and school backdrops, Christmas concert decorations, the Fort flag, whatever needed to be done, he used his many skills to help out. And he was a perfectionist: he did things perfectly until he could say "I'm happy",. That meant he could rest. He wasn't looking for money, or ego stroking, or recognition, a simple thank you was all that was ever needed. Will was happy to help. It wasn't a big deal, that was the way he was. If you asked him, he would help. Will helped us all.
Ironically, David told me Will painted the cemetery regulations sign on the cemetery gate, and that was a deceptively difficult task, one that made him really sweat. But Will completed it to the point where he could look at the cemetery regulations sign and say, "I'm happy," his way of signaling his satisfaction with the completion of a project.
As a family member, Will was a good son, a good brother, a good uncle. Mary Yee says that Will was "Uncle Will" to half the children in town-David says that even the younger workers at Hanson's called him "Uncle Will". And Will loved that, being connected to people. He loved to teach his nieces and nephews different things: Caralen says that he taught them the hand jive when they were little. From their earliest years, and as they grew older, he taught them other things, like how to draw, or how to fly a kite. Will inspired bike building, imaginative thought, and fun projects which became adventures. Will's nephew, Matthew, said Uncle Will taught him about painting cars, about graphics. Uncle Will was, according to Matthew, the epitome of cool.
Will was low key, humble, pleasant, and yet, he passed on to everyone his enthusiasm about life, about doing things that were very simple and enjoyable. He helped people in need, fixed kids bikes for them, wanted people to be happy, wanted justice in the lives of everyone. People who know Will well found him to be profoundly complex, yet he engaged people in simple ways. He looked you in the eye. He nodded at you enthusiastically. He listened. And through these simple things he connected to each of us.
Caralen says he was a father without children, the kindest second dad. He rarely bought presents for his nieces and nephews because Will couldn't stand shopping. Instead he had "The Magic Shirt Pocket" in which he'd place a $20 or a $50 dollar bill for them, so they could buy themselves anything they wanted. When he did buy presents, the presents showed he had been observant, noticing what was needed, remembering what he had seen and noted even months earlier.
Family was everything to Will, and he spent lots and lots of time with them.
Will was David's younger brother, they worked together, had a lot of family time together, worked on cars together, read car magazines together. There was an ESP between them, a deep connection that went beyond the use of any language. They were brothers, and they were friends.
Everyone related to Will loved him, felt there was something very very special about him. Mary loved that Will always called her daughters "Baby"; and that he called Matthew "Boy" even when the children were grown up. After Caralen married, she was still "Baby" to her Uncle Will. Mary says that when they played card games as a family, Will would rub the baby's head for luck-which Mary says was why her kids never had much hair when they were young.
At table with Will one couldn't help but notice that Will loved to eat. When looking through footage of Caralen and John Okolita's wedding, most of my footage of Will showed him eating. He was "the clean-up man" at any meal. He had an amazing metabolism, warm when most of us would freeze, he never needed long johns, and never wore socks. No winter boots, just runners.
Will was a true friend, a lifelong friend. He liked being a friend, and having friends. Excursions regarding cars were the passion of a particular group here in town and Will was one of that group: car races, car shows, hot rods. Will loved cars. He and David shared a fantasy they started in elementary school, the dream of racing cars: racing cars, customizing cars, souping cars up, decorating cars, the sound, the feel, of driving a hot rod really really fast. When David became a respectable family man, Will was saddened because it curtailed their car racing activities. But David and Mary's children brought Will joy and he delighted in the new little people.
Will was an artist, in addition to painting cars, signs, and things for the town and town businesses and organizations, he painted refrigerators, helmets, garbage cans, soup cans, toilet seats-what he called "odd ball stuff". He signed his work with a ladybug, the symbol he considered to be his signature. How telling that this lover of car racing and brightly coloured paint chose such a symbol. His tenderness and gentleness were the core of his spirit, and the noisy vroom vroom of racing cars was for fun. Jean, Will's mom, has a delicate origami wind sculpture Will made for her-beautiful, precise, a more precious piece you couldn't imagine; delicate, complex, and strong, like Will.
Will studied at SIAST in Moose Jaw, and Kelsey Auto Body in Saskatoon.
He was knowledgeable about many things but especially about cars. He listened, and he was compassionate. He'd tear up and cry outright when happy or sad. He cried for an hour when he learned that Caralen and John Okolita were engaged to be married-he was happy, happy for them, so he wept. He felt for people, especially those close to him. He could have lived anywhere, but chose to live here-which has to be one of the greatest reasons for people to live in Saskatchewan, because people like Will Yee live here.
He was always surprised when people came to see him because of his appearances as the weatherman on Life Without Borders. He felt honoured that they would spend their time to meet up with him and have their picture taken with him and his yellow bike.
He rode his yellow bike to and from work every day, in any weather for twenty years. I remember one time there was three feet of snow in my driveway and I couldn't get out to get the weather from Willie, and when it was all cleared away I asked him, you didn't take your bike that day, did you? And he said, oh sure, I walked it. And by the time the workday was over the streets were clear and he could ride his bike home that day. It could be forty-below with a white-out going on and Will still rode the bike to work. He put studs in the tires for grip and away he went, rarely wiping out. Will was unique, he was fun, "Let's give it a try." is what John Okolita remembers Will saying. Everybody has memories of Will, and one of John's favourites is Christmas shopping with Will. They both hated shopping, so they did a high energy, zooming, fast shopping trip that still makes John smile. I think most of us smile when we remember our encounters with Will. He was fun.
To Will's mother, Jean, and to the Yee family, we here today extend our gratitude to you for Will. You raised a wonderful man who helped us all. Be proud of him always. We know he was thankful for you, and for his life amongst all the residents of Fort Qu'Appelle. We all loved, and we will miss, Will Yee. Mary says that Will's in Heaven, probably doing the weather report there. We can't imagine Fort Qu'Appelle without Willie Yee, but we thank him for living here and making Fort Qu'Appelle a better, happier, more beautiful community by his wonderful life.
What Will would want now is for me to stop talking so everybody could get up and go do something. Eating would be a good thing, something Will would dive into with great enthusiasm. So, in honour of Will, I'll be quiet. I can hear Will saying, "I'm happy. Let's eat."
