William Ray Black, Jr. “Bill”
30 Sep 1945 – 18 Mar 2017
INTERVIEW: https://kentuckyoralhistory.org/oh/render.php?cachefile=1985oh164_vvk012_ohm.xml
OBITUARY: (followed by Biography)
William Ray Black Jr., age 71, of Paducah, KY, died Saturday, March 18, 2017 at his home.
Mr. Black was born September 30, 1945 in New York City to William Ray Black and Virginia Giblin Black. Bill graduated from Paducah Tilghman High School in 1963 and attended Princeton University on a NROTC Scholarship. He graduated in 1967 with a degree in History and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the U.S. Marine Corps. He served two tours in Vietnam, where he earned a Bronze Star for meritorious service and two Purple Hearts. He completed his service to the Marines in 1971, having attained the rank of Captain. Following his service in Vietnam, Bill returned to his hometown of Paducah, and joined his father and grandfather in the family construction business at Ray Black & Son. Bill recognized that a community’s architectural and historic heritage was a source of beauty and diversity and knew these treasures were non-renewable resources. He specialized in historic preservation throughout his career. Among his preservation projects were: Whitehaven, The River Discovery Center, and many other historic buildings in Paducah. In the late 1970’s he was an original visionary for the creation of the 26 square block Lower Town Neighborhood National Register District. Bill became the Scoutmaster of Boy Scout Troop 1 in 1985 and kept the historic troop from losing its charter as one of 7 original troops in the U.S. The troop grew to more than 70 scouts, from all backgrounds, under his leadership. Bill served on the Paducah Independent School Board for 24 years. He was a passionate lepidopterist, archaeologist, and collector of all things he found interesting.
He is survived by his wife of 44 years, Nancy Fowler Black; three sons, William Ray (Will) Black III and his wife, Sarah Maggos Black, David Dawson Black and his wife, Lindsay McMaster Black and Merle Fowler Black and his wife, Emily Yocum Black; five grandchildren, Liam Black, Dawson Black, Sasha Black, Ford Black and Nolan Black. He is also survived by his sister, Virginia (Ginny) Black Coltharp and her husband James Richard (Rick) Coltharp and his brother, Christopher James Black and his wife, Nancy Williams Black.
He was preceded in death by his parents and his brother, David Bruce Black.
Funeral Services will be held at 10:00 am on Thursday, March 23, 2017 at Grace Episcopal Church with Rev. Charles Uhlik and Rev. Tim Taylor officiating. Burial will follow at Mt. Kenton Cemetery.
Visitation will be held Wednesday, March 22, 2017 from 4 p.m. until 7 p.m. at Grace Episcopal Church.
Milner & Orr Funeral Home and Cremation Services of Paducah is in charge of arrangements.
In lieu of flowers, expressions of sympathy may be made to: Paducah Public Schools Foundation, Inc., P.O. Box 2550, Paducah, KY 42002 or Paducah Cooperative Ministry, 402 Legion Dr., Paducah, KY 42003.
You may leave a message for the family or light a candle at www.milnerandorr.com
Milner and Orr Funeral Homes
120 Memorial Drive
Paducah, KY 42001
Phone: (270) 442-5100
Email: info@milnerandorr.com
Website: http://www.milnerandorr.com/
BLACK: 1st Lt. W.R. Black C.O., CACO 1-4 FEB 1970
BIOGRAPHY:
On a September afternoon in 1963 I lined up in civilian clothes with two dozen other freshman NROTC midshipmen on Princeton’s scruffy parade deck. Staff Sgt. M.D. Arnold, USMC, stepped forward. His immaculate uniform accented his trim, muscular build. On his chest arraigned in tightly fitting rows were numerous ribbons including the Silver Star from serving at the Chosin Reservoir under Colonel “Chesty” Puller. Perhaps as a Drill Instructor at Parris Island he had learned to crack his voice on the execution part of a command causing a shock wave when he called us to attention. The last syllable echoed off a brick wall, and I was hit in the face by 188 years of the Glory of the Corps. I had been recruited!
BLACK: Nancy and Bill Black, La Son School House, Hue City 8 June 2006
Somehow, early in my quest to become a Marine, I came to understand what Glory really means. It does not mean “Dress Blues”, although they are a powerful symbol of it. Glory is really more like the inverse of what we usually think when we hear the word. It is discouragement, fatigue, and exhaustion. It is pain, and blood. It is a dance with death and hatred. It is grief for our dead, and, for the innocents we have collided with. It is all that is horrible in war. It is sacrifice unnoticed, and heroism unrecognized. All these things we are able to endure to be worthy of the uniform, with the help of our fellow Marines and the Grace of God, as we persevere in the mission given us. That is Glory. We accept the traditional promise by the Marine Corps recruiter “a pack, and a rifle, and a hard way to go”. With those expectations, it is hard to become disillusioned.
Capt Sidney Chapin was the Platoon Commander and mentor of 1 the transition from candidate/midshipman to Marine infantry officer. He was a stout Marine with kinky brown hair, who came from California. With respectful affection (but not to his face) we called him “the Golden Bear”. He was a veteran of Vietnam who wore only one simple ribbon on his shirt – the Bronze Star. He was a keen observer and knew more than he spoke. I remember a watershed talk he gave to our platoon one day. We had been goofing off. He told us we were officers now, and he was not there to break us or force us into that role. The platoon was ours, not his. What we would become was up to us. We responded.
I remember the day when a Navy Chaplain came to our lecture hall. I think he was a Lieutenant Commander. He wore a Marine uniform. He spoke to us about “professionalism”. The Latin root word meant “to proclaim”, or “to proclaim to the world”. When used in a Marine context, it means “to proclaim to the world a standard of excellence”. Years later I read in the Marine Corps Gazette another inspirational message by a Navy Chaplain. Well into the article, I found a paragraph that echoed the concept of “professionalism”! The chaplain had become a Bishop, was promoted to Rear Admiral, and served as Chief of Navy Chaplains. I wrote him a letter to attest how powerful his talk to the Basic School had been to me, how it had helped me through crises I encountered as a Marine, and in life after the Marines. He wrote me back. The chaplain’s name was John J. O’Conner. After the Navy he became the Archbishop of New York, and ultimately CardinaI. One Sunday in New York City, I attended Mass at at St. Patrick’s Cathedral (although I am not Catholic) hoping to meet Cardinal O’Conner. A young priest asked if I had known him in the military and had me wait. Cardinal O’Conner came from the sacristy back up a long flight of stairs to greet me. I realized that I was not the first veteran to tell him how his much his inspirational messages had been to me. He responded with such grace and kindness! Thanks be to God!
Capt. John Ripley was serving as the Marine Corps’ Infantry Monitor for company grade officers, as I recall, and he came to TBS to encourage us to contact our MOS’s monitor to express a request when we anticipated a new assignment. Captain Ripley was a brave, hardy, adventurous Marine, highly decorated from his tour in Vietnam. He was fun and likeable. I remember standing in awe before him at a happy hour in the lobby of O’Bannon Hall, hoping to glean lessons learned in Vietnam.
The 27th Marines went to Vietnam as reinforcement after Tet. The majority of the Marines had not operated together as a unit. We spent our first month south of Da Nang in the relative quiet of its outlying defenses, learning to operate and maneuver as tactical units. Then our Battalion was flown in C130’s up to Phu Bai, where for the next six weeks our platoons operated out of Platoon Patrol Bases, and our companies participated in several of the “No Name” Operations east of Hue. We steadily pushed the VC and NVA farther away from the city. About 0230 on 5 MAY 68, I was wounded while checking my lines. A number of our units were attacked that night. This was the beginning of the enemy’s second of three nationwide offensives attempting to get the South Vietnamese people to rise up against us and their government. It is called in history, “MiniTet”, and it fizzled sooner than the original Tet Offensive did.
When I was discharged from Bethesda Naval Hospital, I was assigned to HQ Co. at Henderson Hall. Most of the duties I had were those of an “Odd Jobs Officer”. One day I ran into 1 friend from college who He advised me to get out of HQ to find the camaraderie that I wanted in the Marine Corps. I remembered Capt. Ripley at the Infantry Monitor’s Office, right across the street.
I knew if I asked for Vietnam again, they would give it to me. Capt. Ripley invited me in with a buoyant hand shake. “Well, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?” I went for broke and asked for Marine Barracks, London England (the only billet for a Marine Lieutenant in all of Europe). He threw his hands in the air and shouted, “Out of the question! But I’ll tell you what I can do. Did you ever consider Sea Duty?”
A month later, via a S2F propeller driven mail plane I was on the U.S.S. America (CVA66). She was on Yankee Station, bombing targets in the panhandle of North Vietnam. I would be XO of the Marine Detachment.
Near the end of my one year tour of Sea Duty, I requested orders back to Vietnam. . Once there, I was assigned to the 3rd Force Recon Co., commanded by one of the Marine Corps’ flamboyant majors. “I don’t like Lieutenants”, he asserted in his interview of me as I entered his command. I hoped to become an exception. I had several exciting and broadening experiences, the last of which was as O.I.C. of a fixed radio relay station on a mountain top beside the A Shau Valley. We were probed late one day, and an enemy mortar round fell squarely in the center of our position. My sergeant suffered a head wound. After his head was checked and bandaged, he seemed rational and said he was OK. I requested a “routine” medivac. About ten minutes later the sergeant began vomiting, likely a symptom of brain injury, so I upgraded the medivac request as “emergency”. Changing the urgency of the sergeant’s medivac, could be seen as indecisive, but that was vastly less important than his future. The firefight died down, darkness fell, the medevac helicopter arrived, and successfully picked up our wounded sergeant.
Two more days of clouds followed, but on the third day a helicopter brought replacements for me and the two others with minor wounds. Back at Phu Bai, the C.O. Said that I had panicked under fire, that the young enlisted men deserved better in their officers, and that I had disgraced myself, my unit, and the Corps. He relieved me of all duties, tactical and administrative. I was to leave in the morning on the first helicopter to Da Nang. That night I prayed to the Lord for guidance. One of the other lieutenants suggested that I see LtCol. Jerry Polakoff in Da Nang if I wanted another job in recon. I had met LtCol. Polakoff six weeks earlier during orientation in intelligence at his Surveillance and Reconnaissance Center at III MAF.
Early the next day I stood with my sea bag on the landing pad waiting for the first helicopter to Da Nang. This was a lonely moment. I had been banished, with ruffles and flourishes, from one of the elite units of the Marine Corps. Suddenly, 1 me. He was a CH46 helicopter pilot in HMM262. We had first met as midshipmen in the NROTC unit at Princeton. Bob managed to think up a variety of subjects to talk about until the helicopter arrived and I boarded for Da Nang.
At Da Nang I first fortified myself as a Marine by getting a high and tight haircut and headed for LtCol. Polakoff’s SRC. In the privacy of his office he asked me why I had been relieved. I told him that my C.O. judged me to be tactically incompetent. I refrained from criticizing the C.O. LtCol. Polakoff asked if I intended to serve a career in the Marine Corps. I answered that I intended to join my father and grandfather in their construction company after my four years in the Corps. “But I consider myself a professional and I am hoping to get another chance in a combat billet.” He ended up offering me a choice between two units he thought might have an opening, 1st Recon Bn., and Combined Action. I had read LtCol. Bill Corson’s book, The Betrayal, which featured Combined Action in Vietnam, and I was intrigued with it. I chose that. LtCol. Polakoff called to arrange an interview for me.
Col. Tom Metzger commanded the Marines’ Combined Action force (CAF), which had units scattered throughout the populated areas of all five provinces in I Corps. He wasted no time orienting me, “Lieutenant, we are not ‘civic action’, we are a combat force”. I told Col. Metzger that suited me fine, and given my circumstances, was exactly what I needed. He told me about the change in CAP tactics from operating out of fixed forts built in hamlets to ”mobile CAPs” operating out of different locations every day. These are some of my heroes of Combined Action: LtCol. David Seiler – C.O. 1st CAG, went on squad sized patrols/ambushes with Marines and PFs; Capt. Jim Murphy – C.O. CACO 13, West Point grad., inspirational easy manner; Sgt. Tom Robbins (and PF counterpart) – CAP 135, brave, aggressive, creative, based operations on enemy (instead of on time and space); LCpl. Miguel Keith – Machine Gunner CAP 132, posthumous Medal of Honor; GySgt. D.W. Duvall – Ist Sgt. CACO 14, experienced, strong, steady character; Cpl. Carl Biehl, LCpl. John Williams – CAP 146 (at My Lai), carried on aggressive spirit of Cpl. O.J. Ostenfeld; Capt. Bing West Princeton grad student, author of Small Unit Action in Vietnam, Summer 1966, The Village, 1972 I was XO of CACO 13 for 1 month, and CO of CACO 14 for 6 months.
