NICEVILLE, FLORIDA - It was one of those humid days, and I just did not feel like walking the same old three-mile trek around our neighborhood. I craved movement, but didn’t want to plug in a Walk-Away-the-Pounds exercise video, or ride a stationary bike in a smallish room filled with other sweaty bodies. Too much indoor exercise makes me feel like a caged gerbil on a wheel. I wanted outside. “Oh,” I thought, “there’s Turkey Creek.”

Perfect. Some shade, a quiet morning, wildlife, and if I walked the trail twice, I should get my three miles in, easy. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a plaque on the Pavilion. There, a succinct tribute to a man named Olen “Willie” Williams thanks him for his generosity to the City of Niceville. It was Mr. Williams who donated a huge chunk of land to the City, making the Turkey Creek Nature Trail possible. As I walked the trail, I inadvertently thought about this man, a man I’d never met.

I saw plants with what looked like Jet-Puff marshmallows stuck on their stems. And I thought, “Now there’s something I wouldn’t see, walking my usual route.” And in the back of my mind, I thanked Mr. Williams.

I took in the winding water, the little lizards running up the trees. The gnarly, black twisted roots of a Cypress reaching into dark water. The sunlight falling through in gentle patches. I am grateful for the escape from my boring, hot, full-sun, no-sidewalk, and watch-for-cars routine. Random beauty versus a structured strip mall.

A bit later, I see a woman walking toward me, she’s smiling, and we both nod to each other, agreeing, “Yes, it’s a fine day.” She’s obviously soaking in the trail’s beauty the same as I am. And I think, “I love this place. I’ve got to come here more often!”

At the end of the trail, there’s a strong man with his baby boy, and they are dabbling in the water. The child is so absorbed by the tiny fishes, and a look shoots between me and the father. Yes, the look says, we know how sweet it is to see a child so completely entranced. The man and I exchange small grins. We understand nature’s elegant power over humans. I would not have seen this walking my usual trek. And I thank Mr. Williams, a man I never met.

Here’s what I’d say to you, Mr. Williams, if you were still here.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to walk without a truck blowing diesel fumes in my direction. For the chance to read about Black Gum trees, and spy the occasional heron. For turtles and shade and a chance to make my heart go fast on a beautiful trail. You prolong my chance of a healthy life.

Too many people hug their belongings so close to themselves, and they forget that property doesn’t follow them in the grave. When you gave your land to the city for this trail, Mr. Williams, you made yourself a hero in my eyes.

I wanted to learn more about you, so I tried a Google search on the Web, then went to the library, where they made me a copy of your obituary. Two clean columns of print for a life of achievement! It seems puny in light of your legacy.

You were born on May 3, in 1916, in Carbon Hill, Alabama. You left this world on Sept 9, 2004. What happened between those 88 years?

 Well, you grew up in Alabama, and you also spent time in Harlan, Kentucky, the same state where I was born. You married your sweetheart, Leanora Wood, in Carbon Hill. As a young man, you served in the Civilian Conservation Corps in Braden, Tennessee, for five years, and moved to Detroit, Michigan. You and Leonora must have decided Detroit was not where you wanted to raise a family. You moved here, closer to your Alabama roots, and decided to open your own business in Niceville, in 1952. For three decades, you ran your service station, Willie’s Exxon, on John Sims Parkway. It was enough to support a growing family. Leonora gave birth to four sons: Mike, Larry, Eric and Ken.

You loved to fish. I imagine tuning in to your daily radio fishing news program, called “Willie’s Whoppers,” or buying one of your poinsettias for a Lion’s Club benefit (you were an avid Lion’s Club member for 51 years). Maybe you and I would have discussed politics, or whether my oil needed changing, and maybe we would have irritated each other on occasion because I wanted one president and you wanted another. But what really would have mattered to me was whether you were kind, open-minded, and if you were honest.

Did you ever dream when you were a little boy in Alabama that you’d earn the distinction of being one of the top 100 most influential men in the state of Florida? That you’d become a trustee on the Okaloosa School Board, help Okaloosa-Walton College secure its site, serve two terms as Okaloosa County commissioner in District 5, or help build the area’s first public artificial reefs in Destin and Choctawhatchee Bay? You were a member of the Hadji temple in Pensacola, and the Fort Walton Beach Shrine Club. On Sundays, I might have found you at the Niceville Church of Christ; that’s where your final services were held. I wish I could have met you to thank you in person. One thing I know, we both appreciate nature. At present, I don’t have acres of land to donate, but I can write my gratitude. This Thanksgiving, I’ll give thanks for the short-lived turkey on the table, but also for your timeless gift of the Turkey Creek Nature Trail.