Bill Morrison

After 80 years and by the grace of God, William “Bill” Barton Morrison Jr. has gone home. Born in the Pensacola Naval Air Station on February 12, 1943, he was the firstborn of William + Barton Morrison Sr. and Kay + Morrison (née Dudley). He was soon joined by his brother Smokey (+) and then by his sisters Peggy and Katherine. The Morrison family had deep roots in the southeastern corner of Oklahoma but journeyed to Fort Worth, and then settled permanently on Linden Lane in north Dallas by 1955. Bill attended Hillcrest High School where he was a varsity basketball player, a member of the choir program, and Vice President of the Senior Class, graduating in 1961.

A rather nomadic college student, Bill matriculated at OU, Arlington State College (now UTA), and SMU, the latter from which he graduated with a degree in history. During his studies on the Hilltop, he met his first wife Terri Kennedy and with her had his first two sons: Scott and Greg. Although raised Presbyterian, he embraced the Lutheran confessions and became a member at Zion Lutheran Church, where he quickly involved himself in church leadership and joined the choir. His fellow choristers soon played the part of matchmaker, suggesting that he court one of the sopranos: Faith Hungerford, Zion’s 5th grade teacher. Even though fate – and Bill – was knocking at the door on their first date, she almost didn’t answer. But he persisted, and she relented. They were married, never to part, at Zion on June 16, 1979. Faith’s two young sons, Chris and Pat Hendricks, were now allied with Scott and Greg, and when the youngest boy, Sean, was born the masculine amalgam was mercifully complete.

Even though Bill was trained in the humanities, much of his career revolved around finance. Of all his professional successes, he was proudest of the fact that many clients became his friends, and he never lost a friend who became a client. But no business dealing could compare with his true passions: the church and his family. In his nearly 50 years as a parishioner at Zion, Bill served at almost every level of lay leadership, from quotidian board positions to president of the congregation. He also helped establish The Lutheran Foundation of Texas in the late 1980s, which persists today in its current manifestation: Legacy Deo. Of his recent contributions, the most profound has been his bible study teaching. Whether at Zion or Water of Life Lutheran in Forney, Bill had a way that was erudite yet approachable. He led his classes with insightful comments and remarkable humility, ever ready to lighten moments of heady exegesis with self-deprecating humor. He meticulously prepared for each lesson, evidenced by the Concordia commentaries that were always within arm’s reach of his favored chair in the Morrison den.

Bill always put his family first. He was a respectful son, a doting brother, a devoted husband, a loving father, and the proudest of grandads. Silver and gold he had not, but what he did have – wisdom, wit, kindness, and love – he had in spades, and he gave these gifts freely to those around him. His paternal instinct also manifested outside of the family as he volunteered to coach Zion’s boys and girls basketball teams. Sharing his passion for the sport with his young players brought him great joy and watching them grow as athletes and as people was one of his proudest achievements. He also volunteered to drive the equipment van for the Woodrow Wilson High School show choir “Variations” – and continued to drive it after his last son had graduated from the program. For the better part of a decade, Bill and that muddy-brown wagon were a common sight in East Dallas and beyond. He loved choral music – from barbershop to showtunes – and being around young people. His experience at Woodrow allowed him to enjoy both.

Bill had a life-long and voracious appetite for the written word – especially detective novels – and his patronage alone might have kept a fledgling Amazon Books above water (there should probably be a statue of him in front of Half Price Books for similar reasons). As a man of culture and letters, completing the New York Times crossword puzzle was one of his daily constitutionals, along with sharing his results in the family Wordle chat. Regarding the latter, his first two guesses were always the same: ADIEU and STORY, respectively. This proved to be prescient, for his “farewell” to the family was his Wordle score posted only moments before his ill-fated hip surgery began. But the second part of that dyad is dearer to everyone who mourns Bill today, because they know he loved to tell stories. Every part of his long life gave rise to various tales and anecdotes, and, surely for the listener’s sake, he was kind enough to repeat many of them on different occasions. When an attentive audience member helped him to remember a name or location in the narrative, Bill would acknowledge the assistance and continue on as before, perhaps not realizing that this particular account was already enshrined in the canon. In fairness, he was not hopelessly aloof. His preamble would usually begin with the perfunctory “Now stop me if I’ve told you this one,” but few listeners ever did. They were as happy to receive these yarns as Bill was to spin them. And what a blessing it would be to hear any one of those old stories just one more time. But no matter the grief at his passing, there is one message that he would hope we remember above all others and when able repeat: that of Christ’s birth, crucifixion, and resurrection. Bill’s life reflected his faith, and he at last has been gathered into the arms of the risen Savior. That is his story.

A Memorial Service will be held at 2pm on May 30 at Zion Lutheran Church. In lieu of flowers or gifts, please forward all donations to Zion Lutheran’s Music Ministry. Thank you.