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Open question - Why?
By Dan Shaughnessy, Globe Columnist, 7/8/2002
Could this be any worse? Stripped of any chance for a dignified burial or cremation, the body of the greatest hitter who ever lived rests in a cryonic warehouse in Scottsdale, Ariz. There will be no funeral, no memorial service. And his children soon will be fighting one another in court. The late, great Ted Williams will be honored tomorrow night at the All-Star Game in Milwaukee and again in a day-night Ted-fest at Fenway Park July 22, but there will be no funeral or memorial service to bring traditional closure to one of the most fascinating American lives of the 20th century. Instead, Williams's remains will be housed in very cold storage, with the wacky hope that someday he'll be back among the living. If this is what Ted wanted, he never told anyone, at least not anybody who's talking these days. The bizarre plan is the work of Ted's only son, John Henry Williams. Those who loved Williams most, and knew him best, are shocked that his son opted to deep-freeze his father's corpse. ''It's just terrible,'' Johnny Pesky said yesterday. ''Death is terrible enough, but you've got to have a little compassion. That's a goddamn shame. I hope [John Henry Williams] thinks twice about this. It's just not a good thing.'' George Carter, a certified nursing assistant who cared for Williams for 10 years and was with him as recently as 2001, said, ''I know Ted like a book. He wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread over the Florida Keys. He told me that many times. I would bet my life he wouldn't approve of this [cryonics].'' ''I thought they were kidding when I heard that,'' said Carl Yastrzemski, who succeeded Williams in left field for the Sox in 1961. ''I know I wouldn't want it for me.'' ''Ted wanted to be cremated,'' said Pesky. ''He was an atheist. He didn't believe in religion.'' Pesky knows John Henry Williams better than most. ''He stayed in my house when he was around 12 or 14 years old,'' said Pesky. ''Those were the years when he was trying to connect with Ted.'' John Henry was badly burned about the arms and chest when he was a young man. While he was at Shriner's Hospital in Boston for treatment, Pesky visited the young man every other day. Later, when he was a college student in Maine, young Williams stopped by Pesky's Swampscott home on a snowy evening. ''He was on his way to see some young college girl in Boston,'' remembered Pesky. ''I was worried about the snow that was falling and tried to talk him into staying over at our house. But he wanted to keep driving. So he did. We had a plan that he would call me when he got there. Well, it got to midnight and there was no call. He had given a number, so I called and the girl answered and put him on the phone. He said, `I was gonna call you in the morning,' and I said, `Like hell, that was not the agreement!''' By the early 1990s, John Henry Williams was fully immersed in his father's world. After Ted Williams suffered his first stroke, John Henry ran everything. Why would Ted Williams turn everything over to his son when he had a daughter 20 years older (Bobby-Jo Williams Ferrell) than his only son? ''Because John Henry's a man,'' said Sherri Mosley, Bobby-Jo's daughter. No one can pretend to know the intricate dynamics of another family, but Ted Williams was a man's man, never particularly smooth with the other gender. He could be downright crude. It is entirely believable he would favor an only son over any daughter. And so John Henry became the guardian at the gate. All access to Ted went through his only son. Williams's friends wondered if the father knew what the son was up to. In the last few years, there was little doubt that Ted was unable to distinguish friends from foes and put all of his trust in one person. Critics of John Henry Williams are legion. He's left a trail of bad checks, bankrupt businesses, and disgruntled associates. He's alienated many of those who were close to Ted. Two weeks ago, he began his bizarre tryout with the Sox' Rookie League team at the age of 33. Now he's put his father on ice for reasons he won't explain. There are only two ways to think of this: Best case - The son is in denial and thinks he can bring his father back to life. Worst case - John Henry hopes to profit from prospective cloning or DNA distribution. John Henry Williams wouldn't comment on the matter when asked Saturday. He said he understood he's in for a new round of criticism. He did not return phone calls yesterday. According to his attorney, Eric Abel, ''He's spending time with his sister [Claudia] right now.'' Will John Henry Williams explain his motives for freezing his father? ''I don't think that's ever going to happen,'' said Abel. Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is dshaughnessy@globe.com.
This story ran on page C1 of the Boston Globe on 7/8/2002.
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ed on ice. Freeze-dried Ted. The Frozen Splinter.