My Hero

Freda is my hero. Using her tools of love and compassion, she mentored me and our friendship deepened as we both shared a love for ISB. Initially, I met Freda when she was asked to serve as the liaison between the school and the ISB Network after a long line of faculty members were tasked with the extra job of opening the lines of communication between the school and the alumni. For more than a year, Freda and I communicated via email, until she attended the Long Beach Reunion in 1998. For countless hours, we spoke as to how we could coexist and she left telling me she would make it her mission to get the school to recognize us as a partner, a "Sister Alumni Association for North America." True to her words she convinced the Board of Directors at ISB to recognize us, and thusly, the foundation was laid for the ISBN to establish themselves as a 501-C-3 non-profit foundation. As the ISB Foundation, we established a scholarship fund and also partnered with the school in 2002 to celebrate its 50th anniversary and Tsunami relief in Kao Lak. The 50th anniversary was one of the greatest celebrations I have ever witnessed. After the celebration was over, Freda was hospitalized for exhaustion. She always gave 1000% to every endeavor. 

I last spoke to Freda in late October when she called me one evening. I was in Rehoboth Beach helping David and Janice Elder remodel their upstairs porch in to an art studio. David, Janice and I were at dinner, but I saw the caller ID and excused myself. She was calling to see if I was all right. She had heard that the company I had been working for had closed its doors and she said she was worried about me and wanted to check on me. I knew something was up because she seldom called me; I usually called her. I told her all was well and we chatted for about 30 minutes. We talked about her life, her kids, my kids, her health, and then the Daytona reunion. I had tried so hard to get her to come but she just wasn't able to travel. I wish I had gone to see her, and I am angry with myself that I did not make the trip. As I look back now, I can't help but believe that she was calling to say goodbye. I will cherish her memory as long as I hold breath and I will always remember her kind and loving spirit. Till we meet again Mrs. Williams, I toast your life and will miss you always. Chaiyo! David A. Wilkerson