09/08/2022
Dear Friends,
It’s been another very heavy week of loss for our community. With each story about how Sandy Williams touched people's lives, the layers of grief settle over Spokane and the weight of realizing who we’ve lost, grows. I feel grateful for all the sharing and tributes because they help me know her a little better and appreciate all that she gave to so many people. I’ll add another layer and hope that eventually the heaviness we feel now, grounds us in the ultimate tribute to Sandy Williams: taking action towards creating the justice that she worked for every day.
On a sunny spring day at Indaba Coffee on Broadway, Sandy and I were laughing in line about how we accidentally came to a canceled meeting because we didn’t have time for reading email. It was the end of the month and Sandy was on a deadline but she said she needed a break so we sat for awhile chatting over our coffees. Eventually we landed on real estate and how communities need welcoming, physical spaces of their own to build connection. She told me that she'd had her eye on a building for the Black Lens for a few years. She wasn’t sure if it was structurally sound or if they’d be able to raise all the money, but it was in a perfect location, up for sale now, and she “had a good feeling about it.” This is the same intuitive strategy making that we try to do at the Community Building so I said I wanted to help. As we finished our drinks we pulled out our calendars and set up a time to tour this mystery building with some contractor/developer folks that I knew.
A week later, we walked through the building with the Black Lens Board and contractor friends visioning in the space. We oohed and ahed over the possibilities, the building definitely “had good bones.” Flash forward, after a whirlwind of fundraising and community organizing, our tour group from that spring sat around a rickety table in thick sweaters eating left over halloween candy and marveling that we were sitting in the future Carl Maxey Center. “It all happened so fast,” we said, “Yeah! It just came together so naturally!” “This is really needed for there to be this kind of community response…” Sandy sat quietly, like she usually did, waiting, watching, and enjoying the joy around the table. Then, when it was time, she gently called the meeting to order so we could talk about Phase II - Design…
But the CMC’s origin story was just a little more complicated than “it naturally came together.” I know now that by the time she accidentally bumped into me in at Indaba, Sandy had already lined up potential capital investments and other funding streams from the state, the city, and set up a fiscal sponsorship. We were talking about the final pieces of the puzzle that she’d had been working on for a few years. A few years. So casual and understated about the work she'd invested and yet, so critical….so Sandy.
Losing her is a physical blow. On a personal level I am broken hearted and on a community level we have lost a mother, daughter, partner, mentor, organizer, leader, facilitator, editor, and a friend. We at the Community Building send our love to Sandy’s mother Wilhelmenia, Daughter Renika, and brother, Rick and the rest of her family and friends. We send the same love to Pat Hick’s family and friends. We are so sorry for your loss.
As a community we can help see Sandy’s dream in the Carl Maxey Center continue to grow and thrive. We commit to her vision and will make a donation to the Carl Maxey Center. If you can, consider donating.
Thank you for the work you do to build justice, community vibrancy, racial equity, and sustainability for all.
With Love, Katy
