Two Tearful Goodbyes
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Two Tearful Goodbyes

Friends and family gather for Lash memorial services.

Three weeks ago, William Lash III called his longtime friend Christopher Frost and related a humorous story from his recent father-son outing. Lash had taken his 12-year-old son, William Lash IV, to a baseball game, only to have his belt break upon their arrival. Unwilling to disappoint his son, Bill Lash darted into a bathroom and fashioned a makeshift suspender device from some drawstring.

"That's the sort of man that Bill was," said Frost, speaking at Lash's July 21 memorial services in Arlington. "Bill was a powerful and successful man, but he was also a regular guy. He was hard working and dedicated to his family and it's this side of Bill that I'll always hold in my heart."

On the night of Thursday, July 13, following an altercation with is wife, William Lash III, 45, inexplicably shot and killed his autistic son William Lash IV, and then took his own life with the same shotgun. Friends, co-workers and family members were stunned that the man that they had known as a devoted father and husband could commit such an act.

Lash was a law professor and former Assistant Secretary of Commerce. He earned his B.A. from Yale University in 1982, and his law degree from Harvard in 1985. He served as a clerk on the New Jersey Supreme Court, and was an associate at Fried, Frank, Harris, Shriver and Jacobson law firm in Washington, D.C. During the Regan administration, he was counsel to the Chair of the United States International Trade Commission.

ON FRIDAY morning, July 21, hundreds of Lash's former students, co-workers and friends, joined his family at George Mason Law School in Arlington to honor the memory of his life.

"He was my law professor, my mentor and my friend," said Eric Stewart. "He expected nothing short of excellence from his students, and he was willing to work with them to push them towards that. If you were willing to work, Bill Lash was willing to work with you."

Stewart recalled that Lash was "always the professor," and never passed up the opportunity to mentor those who wanted to be mentored.

"While none of us will ever understand why he left the way he did, I will never forget the man that he was," said Stewart.

J.V. Schwan worked with Lash at the Department of Commerce, and said that he "learned more in four years with Bill Lash than I did in a lifetime," and that Lash "molded me into the type of person I never knew I could be."

"He cared more about teaching and mentoring than his own personal success," said Schwan. "Not only was Bill my mentor and my friend, but in many ways he was my second father."

MEMORIAL services were also held on July 21 for William Lash IV. On Friday afternoon, more than 200 people gathered at Vienna Presbyterian Church for an emotional and tearful farewell to the 12-year-old boy who was clearly loved and adored by many.

"Like most children with special needs, Will brought profound joy to our world," said Will's godfather Kevin McCann. "He gave us a deep appreciation for the precious human gift of communication."

McCann choked up as he recalled happy memories from Will's childhood, and said that his godson's sudden and tragic death had left him "heartbroken." McCann also read "Where Does Love Come From," a poem written by Will at summer camp just a few weeks earlier.

"Pure, real love is the thing that connects us, and it is why we will never forget Will," said McCann. "A light has gone from our life, and his gentle goodness will never be extinguished from our hearts."

In the program for his memorial services, Will Lash was described as a boy who had a great love of ice skating, Roller Blading, Nationals baseball games and jumping on hotel beds, among many other things.

Will's cousins, Corena Gamble Larimer and Genevieve Gamble, also recalled happier times, and how Will's inability to speak had profoundly affected all who knew him.

"Life with our cousin was joyful and rewarding and full of laughter, and sometimes puzzles," said Larimer. "How do you speak to someone who can't tell you how he's feeling? Well Will did tell us in his own way."

Gamble said that Will's "honesty swept us up" and his emotions "had such potency."

"The force and purity of his expressions touched everyone who knew him," said Gamble.

Eric Stewart also spoke at Will's services, recalling a dinner when he shared his ketchup with the boy, a gesture that put him in the boy's permanent good graces.

"After we left the restaurant, Will never left my side," said Stewart. "In his mind, I was his friend because I had shared something of mine with him.

Stewart said that Will had a smile so sweet and perfect that "it should have been patented," and added that it was "rare to be around someone so affectionate."

"Hugs were guaranteed," said Stewart.