John-Henry Williams has waded through bankruptcies, lawsuits and now a dispute over his father's body.
By THOMAS C. TOBIN
© St. Petersburg Times, published July 10, 2002
As the legend of Ted Williams was honored Tuesday in a ceremony at the All-Star Game in Milwaukee, a less flattering side of the Hall of Famer's legacy was emerging in Florida.
It is a picture of an aging father and three grown children from two of his wives, of a clan strained by the father's money and of a son who worked aggressively to cash in on the father's fame, leaving bankruptcy and ill will in his wake.
As his father's life was celebrated Tuesday before millions of baseball lovers, the son, John-Henry Williams, had found his own spotlight. It had come with the news of his alleged plans to freeze his father's body for future use.
Public records and interviews with former associates of the elder Williams reveal a family riven largely by the activities of his son, 33, who has been criticized for his eagerness in selling memorabilia imbued with Ted Williams' coveted signature.
In recent years, the younger Williams has:
Fallen into bankruptcy at least three times in ventures related to his father's legacy, including a 2000 filing in Orlando after an Internet site (Hitter.net) selling Williams memorabilia racked up debts of $12.8-million.
Sued his sister, Claudia F. Williams, 30, in Pinellas-Pasco Circuit Court in a dispute over the sale of nearly 2,000 autographed bats Ted Williams had given her to ensure her financial security. The sister lives in a modest, one-story home in St. Petersburg's Old Northeast neighborhood.
Been sued twice in Citrus County by creditors who say John-Henry Williams owes them more than $200,000 from expenses incurred by a Web site business. Among the debts: more than $120,000 for computer equipment and more than $9,000 for a bank card.
Been roundly criticized for hawking his Web site at the 1999 All-Star Game in Boston as his father was being honored. As Ted Williams rolled across the infield in a golf cart, he wore a Hitter.net T-shirt and cap at the urging of his son, a moment many found demeaning of the legendary hitter.
The younger Williams is a man who once was in awe after meeting the great-great grandson of Babe Ruth, then observed of himself: "When people meet me, I'm the son of Ted Williams. It must be serious. It must be major, for people to meet me."
He used his father's name to land a tryout this year with the Boston Red Sox minor league team in Fort Myers. In June, during his first game as a 33-year-old in a league of 19-year-olds, John-Henry Williams went 0-for-3 as a designated hitter. Two days before his father's death, he broke a rib in a collision with a photographer's pit and was to be out for 5 to 6 weeks.
It was an inauspicious start and a stark contrast to his father's storied career with the Red Sox.
Since taking over his father's affairs from a corrupt manager in the early 1990s, John-Henry Williams has been more productive in another area: pushing his father to feed a burgeoning memorabilia businesses.
Three men who worked in Ted Williams' Citrus County home during his later years recalled Tuesday how John-Henry Williams set a torrid pace for his father.
"He was so demanding for signatures. He held his dad as a hostage, more or less," said Jack Gard, who was hired as Ted Williams' aide in 1998.
In August 2000, Gard and Williams traveled to San Diego, where Williams visited a longtime friend. A relaxing time turned into a fast-paced autograph session, Gard said. He said John-Henry shipped out dozens of photographs for his father to sign.
"He would call me every hour to check the progress," said Gard, who is 59 and lives in Port Richey. "We signed them, but not on John-Henry's deadline."
When the two returned to Florida, Gard said he told John-Henry that Williams was in San Diego to rest, not work. "We just had it out," Gard said. "He then told me he did not need me anymore."
Robert Hogerheide, who worked as Ted Williams' chef from 1998 to 2000, said he became disgusted by the son's attitude and left.
Every day about 11 a.m., Hogerheide said, John-Henry Williams would tote dozens of baseball bats, magazines and jerseys into his father's room for the baseball great to sign.
"It was just unbelievable," Hogerheide said. "By the end, the poor old guy was completely whipped."
Hogerheide said the household was like a "revolving door," with many employees leaving after only a day or two because of mistreatment by John-Henry Williams.
"It was pretty obvious what was going on and people just didn't like it," he said.
John Sullivan, a personal assistant to Ted Williams from 1997-99, said the younger Williams had cameras installed in almost every room of his father's house to ensure the authenticity of the signatures.
He recalled one day after Ted Williams had spent the better part of three weeks signing autographs for a memorabilia company. The Hall of Fame slugger got up from his kitchen table and said, "That's it for today." When his son pressed him, Sullivan recalled, Ted Williams became irritated.
"I hope you can eat, John-Henry," the Hall of Famer said, a comment Sullivan took as the legend's frustration over his son's reliance on his legacy. In response, Sullivan said, the younger Williams threw a wooden bat holder against the kitchen cabinets.
"I would say the greatest sadness the father had was his son," Sullivan said.
He also said he heard Ted Williams state on numerous occasions that he wanted to be cremated with his Dalmatian, Slugger, and their ashes spread over Key West, where he had had a home.
He said Williams, who was 83, would be "mortified" over his son's reported plan to have his body frozen in liquid nitrogen and "suspended" in a cryonics warehouse.
The plan was revealed Friday by Barbara Joyce Williams Ferrell, 54, Ted Williams' oldest child and the half sister of John-Henry Williams.
Ferrell has said she knows from sources at Citrus Memorial Hospital, where Williams died Friday, that his body has been transported to Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Scottsdale, Ariz. Her lawyer said that a judge will be asked later this week to determine what Ted Williams' wishes were.
John-Henry Williams has not spoken publicly since his older sister went public, except to say through an attorney that she was estranged from their father.
However, in an 2000 interview with the Hartford Courant, he addressed criticism over how he handled his father's affairs.
"I think Dad will be the first person to tell anybody that he is not the smartest businessman in the world," John-Henry Williams said. "He's very kindhearted and he's an easy person for people to take advantage of. . . . When I was getting out of school, I had a revelation -- there is one person that I can make sure of that won't take advantage of him and will protect him, and that was me."
He said his father signed memorabilia because he wanted to.
"Because he feels good about himself," he said. "Being able to sit down for 20 minutes a day and produce revenue at 82 years old, in the baseball field. . . . And he makes people feel good when he signs."
The younger Williams added: "I only do what I think is right and what I think is honorable for my dad. Nothing that people read (about me) is entirely correct. It's the little pieces that make the whole thing."
His sister from their father's third marriage, Claudia, could not be reached for comment.
She reportedly has been with her brother as the dispute over their father's body unfolds.
In recent months, however, the siblings have been at odds in a lawsuit John-Henry filed against Claudia in April. Ted Williams had given each of them about 2,000 signed bats as a way to ensure their financial security.
But John-Henry Williams accused his sister of breaching a contract the siblings signed in October 2001 assuring he could buy the bats from her.
In that contract, Claudia Williams agreed to notify her brother if anyone offered to buy 1,845 autographed bats her father gave to her.
Their contract allowed John-Henry to match any offer she got for the bats.
On March 15, Claudia Williams notified her brother that a sports memorabilia dealer from Arizona had offered her about $1.2-million for bats she kept in storage in Massachusetts.
Her brother, who had been given about 2,000 bats by his father, told her he wanted to buy the bats and intended to match the offer, court papers show. But she accused her brother of violating terms of their contract by, among other things, failing to match the offer in a timely fashion.
-- Times staff writers Carrie Johnson, Alex Leary and William R. Levesque and researcher Kitty Bennett contributed to this report.