Metropolitan Transit Development Board Chairman Leon Williams is reading a book, a gift from his wife, Margaret. When he finishes, he will know four basic principles of life that will free him from ever again worrying about what others think or say about him. Those who know him might believe he’d already read this book many years ago. How else could he have so constantly pursued his lifetime goal for so many years — improving the lives of all human beings, especially African-Americans?

Born in Oklahoma, Williams grew up in Bakersfield. As a young boy, he knew he wanted to make life better for others, but he can’t say exactly why he felt that way. Perhaps it was because he is the eldest of 12 children, 10 of whom survive today, who were raised by a hard-working father who sometimes held three jobs, and a stay-at-home mother.

As Black History Month rolls around again, Williams towers as an example of what people who care about others can do, without bombastic rhetoric or actions. He has been more like the fabled tortoise than the hare, or to continue metaphorically, the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove. He was willing to be the anchor for this annual feature, not for personal recognition, but because “the only way to bring about change is through awareness.

“That awareness has to come from the majority, because ‘we’ already know what it’s like,” he says in a we-they expression, rare for a man who doesn’t think much about skin color these days. Now, he says, “I’m just a person.” But it wasn’t always so.

Williams left Bakersfield for San Diego when he graduated from high school in 1941. He found a federal government job and worked while he took two and a half years to earn a degree in psychology from what was then San Diego State College. For a few years he was a social worker, then a social worker supervisor and then a San Diego Sheriff’s administrator. Later, he headed the local Neighborhood Youth Corps for five years. During that time, he also filled in as temporary director of the San Diego Urban League.

When he was appointed to the San Diego City Council in 1969, Williams entered what became a quarter of a century of local government service. The first African-American (he prefers “African-American” to “black” because it “shows more respect,”) on the council, he served for 14 years. During his tenure, he initiated the formation in 1981 of the Southeast Economic Development Corp. The idea for SEDC came about in 1976, when Williams promoted the Dells Redevelopment Project Area to clean up and redevelop acres of dilapidated housing in Southeast San Diego.

Now, 25 years later, SEDC is an independent corporation for redevelopment of a 7-square-mile area adjacent to Downtown. The corporation’s president is Carolyn Smith, daughter of long-time local civil rights activist the Rev. George Walker Smith. She praises Leon Williams’ vision in establishing an entity that operates as SEDC does, combining redevelopment with business development. “It’s one thing to build a building,” says Smith. “But you must have programs to help businesses as well, or it’s all for naught.”

Color Bias Was Strong
As a councilman, Williams initiated many important community changes, but he experienced discrimination, he says, even though the council itself appointed him. “Oh, yeah,” he says, recalling that bias. “Many times, many, many times.” He remembers taking several ideas to the council, one of them Downtown redevelopment and another restoration of Balboa Park buildings, only to be met with no response from other councilmembers. “Then later, the issue would come up again, and someone else would be credited with the idea.”

“The color line in San Diego was pretty tough,” he says. He cites the Rev. Smith as an example of one who fought aggressively to erase that line. “He got out in the world when barriers for African-Americans were greater, and he made significant inroads by recognizing who his adversaries were. He made changes on the school board that helped to change the district,” Williams says, referring to Smith’s 16 years as the first African-American elected to the San Diego City School board.

In the early 1970s, while on the council, Williams personally mentored a dozen or more young people, most of them African-Americans who worked for him in his council office. One of them was Patricia McQuater, a San Diego Port commissioner, who later became his stepdaughter when he married Margaret. Another was William Jones, now president and CEO of CityLink Investment Corp., who was a Morse High School senior when he interned in Williams’ council office.

Jones, like most who know Williams, has nothing but praise for what he calls “one of the most honorable men I have ever known.

“He was like a second father to me for a number of years,” Jones says. “He reinforced the values my parents taught me, and he led by example. I always felt comfortable and safe in his presence as a teen attempting to find my way in the world.”

As a teen, Jones says he saw Williams as “smart, articulate, a visionary, philosophical, honest and kind.” These are almost the same words Margaret Williams uses today to describe her husband of eight years. “He is so kind,” she says, “and I am so proud of him.” She talks about the Leon Williams Scholarship Fund administered by the San Diego Foundation, and a bronze plaque in his honor on the lawn at the County Administration Center, placed there with money raised by some of those he mentored in the early years: Jones, Michel Anderson, public relations; Wes Pratt, a former city councilman and now head of the California Conservation Corps; architect Leon Brooks; and Alan Ziegaus, a public relations specialist. The plaque acknowledges the 12 years Williams served as the first African-American on the county Board of Supervisors after he left the City Council.

Public Transportation Passion
In 1976, while still on the council, Williams was appointed to the newly formed Metropolitan Transit Development Board, a position that led him into his all-consuming interest in public transportation. That passion has brought him once again into a working relationship with Jones, who was appointed last month to the San Diego Regional Governmental Efficiency Commission, on which Williams also serves.

The commission, charged with studying formation of a regional agency to solve growth and traffic congestion problems, resulted from legislation introduced last year by state Sen. Steve Peace. It would have consolidated several agencies. The new commission will decide whether to place on the ballot the combining of the San Diego Association of Governments and five other agencies, including MTDB and North County Transit.

Williams favors combining the two transit districts, but he does not want to see the bus maintenance yard leave East Village as recommended by the Centre City Development Corp. “The bus operation should stay Downtown and buses should start their trips from there,” he says, looking at the bus yard from his ninth-floor office in the James Mills Building next to the clock tower at 12th Street and Imperial Avenue.

In passing, he mentions the clock in the tower, explaining that it was made in Switzerland and still is controlled from that country.

Now in his 25th year on the MTDB and his ninth year as chairman, Williams spends three or four days a week in his office or handling district business. He drives from his Golden Hill home to the parking structure near his office, then uses the trolley as much as possible in his comings and goings.

“It’s not supposed to be full time,” he says of the job he inherited when he was vice chairman and former state Sen. James Mills retired as chairman in 1993. But he is passionate about public transportation and tireless when it comes to promoting it. “My attitude is to make public transportation more important” in San Diego where he sees traffic growth threatening the quality of life. Williams believes all agencies that deal with transportation must recognize the need for better public transportation. The California Department of Transportation is an example. “Caltrans should have more responsibility than just freeways,” he says. “We’ll never solve our transportation problems with highways. We need a lot more emphasis on public transportation.”

Using Mission Valley as an example, he points to space along existing trolley routes where housing and business could provide opportunities for people to live and work near public transportation.

The problem with public transportation, he says, is money, or more accurately, a shortage of money. San Diego doesn’t get as much for public transportation as Los Angeles or the Bay Area, Williams says, explaining that locally only one-third of one-half percent in sales tax revenue goes to public transportation here as opposed to a whole cent in Los Angeles. “Our money must come from the fare box or the state.”

Fortunately, San Diego has one of the highest recovery rates from fares in the country at 50 percent to 55 percent. Even more impressive is the fare recovery on the Tijuana to San Diego route, which is better than 90 percent. The board is working with a consultant on ways to stop fare fraud on trolleys and buses. Ticket books have recently been discontinued to avert fraudulent use, and tokens soon will replace them. Ultimately, Williams says, San Diego will use a smart card system, but it is a couple of years away.

When he isn’t on MTDB or executive committee business, Williams has several other commitments, including the board of the San Diego Association of Governments. He is a member of the Catfish Club, which was founded by his old friend Rev. Smith, Alpha Pi chapter of Sigma Pi Phi fraternity and the Masons. He is so committed to community involvements this year that he and Margaret have not planned a vacation in their motorhome as they usually do.

Williams defines “fun” as playing the acoustic guitar, biking and hiking, and travels in the motorhome with Margaret. They like to visit the eight children, nine grandchildren and one great-grandchild in their blended family, including a daughter in Denmark and another in Los Angeles, a son in Oakland and another in Orange County. The others live here; among them McQuater, who worked for Williams many years ago, before she attended law school and before he met and married her mother, a retired elementary teacher from Washington, D.C.

“All the kids are really first class people,” he says. “All lifters, not leaners.” That’s hardly a surprise, since they learned by example, which, ultimately, is much better than learning from a book.