The 100 Black Men of Denver, an organization dedicated to improving the quality of life for Blacks and other minorities, are honoring Colorado’s first Black state representative, Sam Williams, whose name seems to only invoke good memories.

“Miles to go before I sleep,” was Sam Williams’ favorite saying, and he lived up to it. He was born on April 4, 1934, in Newark, N.J. He earned his bachelor of science degree from Central State College in Wilberforce, Ohio, and his master’s from Cornell University in Ithaca, N.Y.

During his 20-year military career, he served with the elite United States Army Rangers throughout the Far East and Europe, while attaining the rank of lieutenant colonel. Shortly after, he moved with his wife Gladys and their two daughters to Breckenridge, where they owned a real estate and rental management company for many years.

At a time when becoming a Black politician seemed unattainable, Williams became one of Colorado’s first. He served on a predominately white Breckenridge Town Council from 1978 to 1980. He was elected to the Colorado House of Representatives four times from1986 to 1992, where he served with honor and distinction. He served two years as minority leader in the Colorado’s House. Also noteworthy in Williams’ career was his time served as the operations manager of the Colorado Youth Corrections Program and acting director of the Colorado Civil Service Commission.

“There were so many people (at his memorial service last November) you didn’t even realize how many people’s lives he had touched, because they were from all walks of life,” said a friend, Misti Aas of Denver.

Many of Williams’ closest friends were surprised to hear about some of his major achievements for the first time during the memorial.

“All the things my dad did, you wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t tell ya,” said his daughter Glynis Williams-Thompson. “He never bragged about it.”

Instead, she said her father was most proud of his family. And out of all his jobs, he enjoyed teaching his students at Johnson & Wales University the most, where he taught ethics and marketing. Mentoring youth was important to him.

As former president of 100 Black Men of Denver, Williams convinced Montbello High School to partner with the organization in mentoring the school’s Black males. When Manual High School was closing down, he initiated the organization’s involvement in helping the students to transition to other schools.

“He was the one that convinced the rest of us we should make this a priority,” said 100 Black Men member Dan Euell of Thornton. “(He was) a mover and shaker, very committed to the things he believed, very committed to people in general.”

“He was Mr. Community,” said 100 Black Men member Zawdie Fkundayo.

Williams’ commitment to the community when he retired intrigued Fkundayo, who “hadn’t had that vision before. The older men I knew were much less involved with the community.”

Williams’ achievements almost seem insignificant when compared to the joy he brought to people’s lives.

“He was so many different things to different people,” Williams-Thompson said. “I always looked at him like he was just my dad.”

“With other people it was easy to say ‘no.’ You couldn’t say ‘no’ to Sam,” said Euell, who recalled the way Williams could convince his group of golfing buddies to drive to the Green Valley Ranch golf course, despite rainy, 40-degree weather.

On a day like this, “Sam would say, ‘O what a great day. The sun will be out in a half a hour.’ And we knew he was full of it. But, here we are driving (to the golf course) from all parts of town,” Euell laughed.

Listening to Williams was easy, he said, because “he was genuine. You knew whatever it was he asked of you was right.”

“He had such a huge heart,” Aas said. “He just had a way of bringing people together. People would just gravitate towards Sam.”

“He didn’t talk about folks,” Williams-Thompson said.

As a Democrat, he still made friends with many Republicans. His daughter recalled a Democratic legislator joking about Sam’s intimacy with Republicans, saying “We even had to tell Sam, ‘You’re getting too nice with them folks over there,’ but that was just how he was.”

“And when he got sick he never told anybody,” she said. “He never wanted to give people bad news.”

After about 10 years of battling prostate cancer, the disease took Williams’ life on Nov. 20 last year. He was 73.

“You never heard Sam complain,” Euell said about the cancer. “I knew he was going through immense pain.”

“I don’t think it was difficult for him to go, because he knew where he was going,” Williams-Thompson said of her father who was a faithful, church-going man.

To honor the memory of Williams, the 100 Black Men of Denver changed the name of its annual scholarship golf tournament to “The Sam Williams Memorial Classic Golf Tournament” this year. The tournament was “his baby,” said Aas, who chose to coordinator the event “to help carry out one of his legacies.”

The tournament starts at 7:30 a.m., May 10, at Heritage Eagle Bend Golf Course in Aurora. The participant fee is $125 per person and $500 for a team of four. Along with a slide show of Williams’ life, an award luncheon will follow the morning golf. The fee for lunch is $25 but is free to tournament participants.

Proceeds will go to the University of Colorado Prostate Cancer Research Center and scholarships for young Black males, in honor of Williams’ request.

“I think my dad would be so proud because this is want he wanted to do. Play golf and do good things,” Williams-Thompson said.

Rita Wold is a journalism student at Metropolitan State College of Denver.