Chemeketa Voices

War Stories:
Patrick Williams

The reasons offered for enlisting in the U.S. armed forces are multitude and varied, but it was story that motivated Patrick Williams to join the Marine Corps.

“I was interested in the military from a tactical point of view, but I was even more interested in the stories I heard from Vietnam veterans and the sense of brotherhood they felt with other Marines,” said Williams, a philosophy and religion instructor at Chemeketa Community College. “I formed a picture of Marine life that I wanted to be part of.”

But war stories weren’t the ones that changed his life. It was the stories of his fellow recruits before they became Marines that made him stronger and tougher.

A head-cracking bunch

Throughout his formative years Williams watched military movies from “Apocalypse Now” to “Full Metal Jacket,” and he thought he had a good idea of what to expect in boot camp. Once he was in the thick of it however, Hollywood’s thin veneer crumbled like old bread.

“I remember thinking there’s no one trying to kill me or shooting at me, but this is a nightmare,” said Williams.

He realized quickly that his intellectual knowledge had in no way prepared him for the actual experience of Marine training.

“Your body gets taxed to its physical limits. You’re doing all you can to muster up every fiber of strength. You watch guys getting sick and falling down all around you. I realized that I was finite,” Williams said.

The experience taught him that there were some questions that couldn’t be answered by books or movies; that human endurance was more than the chemistry of turning food into calories and calories into energy. It taught him the power of experience. It left him with a desire to test his limits, which is why he found himself entertaining thoughts of joining the Los Angeles Police Department.

“I know that they’re seen as kind of a head-cracking bunch, but they had a lot of respect even from others in law enforcement,” Williams said. “If I was going to go into law enforcement, I wanted it to be the real deal rather than some sheriff’s department in the middle of nowhere.”

He told his roommate and fellow Marine, John Lopez, that if he did join the LAPD, he wouldn’t be taking any chances.

“If I go into a Mexican neighborhood or a black neighborhood the gun was coming out of the holster and I’d be really alert,” Williams told Lopez.

When he was finished, the air between the two men had changed.

“A look fell across his face and I knew I’d said something wrong. He told me, ‘You really don’t get it, do you,’” said Williams.

Lopez told Williams about growing up in San Diego as a Latino and driving through his own neighborhood doing nothing and getting pulled over by the cops, being searched and being harassed.

“I was a white dude who grew up in Roseburg. I’d never been pulled over by the police because of my race, been embarrassed and insulted and treated like a second-class citizen,” Williams said.

Later, another Latino friend, Danny Castillo, was guiding Williams through a photo album when he stopped in his story, made a motion with his right hand and mumbled something. Williams mentally marked the oddity, but said nothing. Then Castillo did it again.

“When I asked about it I found out he was making the sign of the cross and saying ‘rest in peace’ each time he came across a photo of a friend who died in gang violence. Castillo had joined the Marines to get away from the gangs,” Williams said.

He was rapidly realizing the course he had set for himself, was not one he wanted to follow.

“There wasn’t going to be any fulfillment if I stayed on the same track, but that I could keep learning and growing through other people’s stories,” he said.

Unexpected outcomes

During Operation Desert Shield in Kuwait, Williams’ infantry unit was tasked with capturing the Emir’s farm. As the convoy neared its target, Williams saw something he hadn’t seen in months. Trees.

The caravan stopped about 1,500 meters from the thicket and troops began piling out.

“It was an unbelievable sight,” said Williams. “As far as the eye could see in any direction there were Marines, tanks and Humvees, and in the desert you can see pretty far anyway.”

A napalm fire erupted in the trees as planes and helicopters laid waste from above. Once the airstrikes ceased, infantry units began moving forward.

“I thought that was it. I just knew they were going to wait until we were 100 meters out and the artillery couldn’t fire and we were going to get shot to pieces,” said Williams. “There was so much sensory stimulation that everything was kind of dreamlike.”

Williams was surprised as anyone when a contingent of Iraqi soldiers emerged from the trees waving a white flag.

“It was the first time in my life where I knew death was a very real possibility and it got me thinking about those questions you can’t find answers to in books,” Williams said.

He attended Montgomery Community College after his discharge from the Marines and transferred to Oregon State University to complete a degree in history and philosophy. While in Beaver country, Williams came under the wing of Marcus Borg, a prominent Jesus scholar, and one of many distinguished voices in the school’s philosophy program.

“I remember turning in my first paper to Marcus thinking I’d aced it. It came back covered with blue ink, a short letter that began with ‘Dear Patrick,’ and a B-minus,” said Williams.

Williams found in Borg a teacher willing to push him to the outer limits of his mental capabilities, much as the military did with his physical ones.

“Marcus can give great lectures, and come to conclusions that set him at odds with the mainstream, but he understands the importance of finding your own answers and the power of experience in people’s lives,” said Williams.

He enrolled in the school’s graduate program and began teaching English as a graduate teaching fellow.

After earning his master’s, he attempted to find a permanent role at OSU, but to no avail. He moved to Portland to be closer to his future wife and applied to teach writing online for Chemeketa while working as a barrista for Starbucks.

He didn’t quite meet the background requirement necessary to teach writing, but he was offered an online philosophy class. When a position opened up for a full-time instructor in the college’s philosophy and religion department, he applied and got the job.

In the trenches

Many of the people he’s encountered find it strange for a Marine to become philosophy professor. The two appear contradictory, but Williams inhabits both worlds and the two combine to craft an aura unique to him. He carries himself like the Marine he was trained to be, but his deep respect for others - and their experiences – is unmistakable.

It’s not humility. That would imply falseness. It’s more of a we’re-all-in-this-together-so-how-can-I-help manner that precedes him and lingers in his wake. Despite all that, his heart is with his students and helping them find their own voices.

“Some of the things that our students write about and the challenges they’ve faced are amazing,” he said. “When someone is in the trenches like that it can be brutal.”

It’s a humbling experience for a teacher who feels he got all the things he needed in life, but it’s also an honor.

“Every day I learn more about what’s meaningful and real in life from my students and I feel very fortunate,” Williams said. “And I feel there couldn’t be a better place to do that than Chemeketa.”

By Eric A. Howald. Have a great Chemeketa story? Send us an e-mail.

Updated October 2, 2007 by Marketing and Student Recruitment.