Posted by XXXXXXXXXXXXX on April 21, 2008:

William Charles Ocker, Jr. NO. 16693 CLASS OF 1948 KILLED IN A PLANE CRASH, NOVEMBER 26, 1949, NEAR SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA AGE 23 YEARS ON Saturday morning, 26 November, 1949, Bill Ocker could have been enjoying a day of leisure away from military duties. But because he loved flying, he voluntarily climbed into the front seat of a familiar old T-6 and took off from Hamilton AFB with another officer in the back seat. Some time later, as they were engaged in a series of maneuvers with another plane, Bill's airplane suddenly snapped into a spin from which he was unable to recover before they crashed into the ground. The pilot in the rear seat was seriously injured. Bill Ocker was killed instantly. The sad news of Bill's death brought with it the sorrowful realization that we would no longer know his cheerful grin, his quiet friendliness, his casual air. He was gone. Suddenly we remembered how much we had enjoyed knowing Bill and being with him. Suddenly we felt a deep sense of loss, for Bill somehow had meant more to us than we had realized. We paused and looked back and thought about him. In a way, it had seemed almost inevitable that Bill would become an officer and pilot in the Air Force, for his entire life had centered around the Air Force. His father, the late Colonel William C. Ocker, was an outstanding airman in the Army Air Corps, whose untimely death in 1942 cut short a career of pioneering leadership in military aviation. Therefore, when Bill received his Air Force commission at West Point in 1948 and his pilot's wings at Williams Air Force Base in 1949, his life-long ambition was finally fulfilled. As a son of the Service, Bill traveled and lived with his parents in many States, but the State in which he lived most was Texas. Near the little town of Uvalde in that State the Ockers owned a ranch where Bill spent many of his youthful years. So he came to be known as a Texan, and a more nativelooking Texan was never born. With his soft drawl, easy grin, freckled face and ambling, bow-legged walk, he looked like a cowpuncher straight from the range. Outward appearances are usually deceptive, however, and understanding the real Bill Ocker was much more difficult than his appearance suggested. To casual acquaintances, his true character was concealed by his reticence and his relaxed personality. But to all who knew him well. Bill's genuine friendliness, sincerity, humor and common sense were as real and enduring as the freckles on his face. Basically he was a happy, independent and relatively unexcitable individual who refused to be perturbed by the trivialities of life. A friend once described Bill as a person "built in low gear" Yet beneath his casual, unruffled exterior was a heart of gold, a keen mind and a real ambition to be a successful officer. Though normally a very tolerant person, he detested small-mindedness in people, and for little men with small thoughts he had notIng but scorn. Inefficiency he also hated, especially in military organizations. These traits I mention because I believe this side of Bill's nature was usually invisible to those who knew him only as a friendly, easygoing individual, but it was really the fundamental side of his character. It is as a friend that I remember Bill best of all. A more genuinely courteous, kind and generous person one could hardly expect to find anywhere. His friends were many, for Bill liked nearly everybody he knew, and most people also liked Bill. To me he was the type of person who seemed to fill a definite need in one's life. Whenever Bill was around the world seemed to be a little brighter and happier place. Just one of his broad grins or peculiar chuckles was enough to make a person relax and grin with him. I liked his sense of humor, his natural modesty, his trace of shyness. His way of laughing sheepishly at himself when he made mistakes. He was a bighearted, lovable person with a natural, unsophisticated personality, and we all loved him simply for what he was. Why Bill had to die we will never know, but with his tragic death we lost a friend who can never be replaced. It was tragic indeed that Bill died just as he was beginning the phase of his career for which he had long been preparing. Having just graduated from flying school as a jet fighter pilot, he had been assigned to the 78th Fighter Group at Hamilton, near San Francisco. It was exactly what he wanted and what he had been looking forward to for many years, a chance to begin his career in a tactical Air Force unit. When he died, the Air Force lost a potential outstanding combat officer, for Bill had the natural qualities of a fighting leader. Time mercifully dulls the pain and eases the sorrow caused by the death of those whom we love, but no passage of time will ever make us forget Bill Ocker. We will remember his sincere friendliness, his cheerful, happy attitude, his love of fun. We will remember all those things about him that so endeared him as a friend to all of us. We will remember and not forget. —Arnold Brasuell

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