To say I am a drop in the ocean of students whose lives were changed by Coach Joe Williams is an understatement.

I have no idea how long Joe was a coach at Ilwaco High School but I know the years he coached me changed every day of my life beyond that. Like many of Joe’s athletes, I left the peninsula many years ago. I still visit my parents and my grandma often and of course, read the local newspaper. But I can only speak for myself when I say I struggled to find my place in adolescence. Ilwaco High School wasn’t known for its rigorous academic excellence in the early aughts and growing up on the peninsula meant little in the way of extracurricular activities. I wound up in track and field in seventh grade at the persistence of my friends who knew much more about the program than I did, and to stave off the boredom that would eventually get me into trouble anyway. I can’t imagine how much worse it could have been without the athletic involvement that I did maintain.

Joe was my P.E. teacher in middle school but he became my coach during my freshman year of high school. The cross-country team at Ilwaco High was legendary in those years and they always went to state. That year the girls’ team was short one runner in order to qualify as a team of six. I joined because my participation meant the girl’s team went to state that year, but I did all four years of varsity cross-country because of Joe.

He could be scary at times. He was known for chasing us around with a bullhorn. His demeanor was militant. He never spoke unless he thought it was important, but he always had an eye on us. His running program always pushed us as athletes. We had Saturday practices, and long team runs on Sundays, and we were encouraged to stay in shape all summer. We never had a practice where we ran less than three miles, but it was usually five a day. Every year there was a practice where we ran from the High School to the dunes in Long Beach and then ran drills in the dune grass. He never told us ahead of time when that practice would be and if you had happened to wear shorts that day, well you bled. We were encouraged to be ready for anything, running in the rain and the heat. We could be running drills in the mud or through a housing development.

Pull Quote

There was always a sense that he worked us so hard because he believed we could be great. Every year, he made us a family.

But Joe was never mean. There was always a sense that he worked us so hard because he believed we could be great. Every year, he made us a family. He instigated a longstanding tradition where every week during the season, we would have dinner at one of the team members’ homes. It was always the night before our weekday meet and we were there to load up on carbs. Huge piles of spaghetti, lasagna, barbecue, and garlic bread were served to the twenty high school and middle school teams. But he never made it mandatory. During the years my parents were too busy with work to host or when a teammate’s family couldn’t afford the extravagance, he never said a word to us about it, and instead, we would have dinner at his house.

Joe did something else for us as well, something that I would consider the greatest gift you can give someone. He taught us all to be leaders. At a time when we were old enough to be grappling with some very adult problems but not yet legal adults, he let us make our own decisions. Each year there was a team captain for the girl’s teams and the boy’s teams. The captains coordinated team runs, sleepovers, dinners for homecoming, warm-ups, cool-downs, and checked in on their team. Some of my team captains were above and beyond. They would write personalized messages for each of us before a meet. We made personalized blankets together. They would leave granola bars taped to our lockers and decorate our bus seats for the big team meets. Over the years, I learned what it was to take care of a team and to help each person learn their own potential, and then my senior year, it was my turn.

Years later, when I found myself in command of a sales team, Joe’s teachings were with me every step of the way. I taught my team to reach goals the same way he did, and I aspired to teach each one of them that they were capable of doing things they thought were impossible. Today, I live in Northern California as an artist, a writer, and an attorney advocating for Native American rights. Every time I go running I can hear Joe telling me where to hold my wrists and I never run less than three miles.