William Royce Morgan

William Royce Morgan, of Palmyra, NJ, passed away peacefully on December 2, 2024. Born in Mesquite, Texas to the late John and Patsy (nee Philips) Morgan, he was 75 years old. William proudly served in the United States Navy from 1969 – 1981. William was the beloved husband of Cynthia King (nee Espenschied); loving father of Christopher W. Morgan (Janine) and John R. Morgan (Nicola); cherished grandfather of Abby, Lena, Immanuel, Eden, Amarria, Sarah, Jack, and Beatrice; dear brother of Wincie, Weldon “Ray”, and Becky. William is also survived by many nieces, nephews, extended family members and friends who will miss him greatly. A graveside service will be held at Washington Crossing National Cemetery, 830 Highland Road Newtown, PA 18940, at a later date to be determined. A memoir about William: Dad, the time has come and too soon, much too soon. The results of hard work and hard living. My first thought as I reflect on the man who is the foundation of the man I have become, the one everyone has cited who I have talked with since you passed, is the billowing belly laugh. That guttural chuckle is a signature you wrote - with a toothy grin, a beaming smile, and twinkling eye - on the hearts of all those who knew you. Your laugh was like a warm blanket wrapped around the cold places in the human heart, one you offered to everyone you ever knew. It was real, it was kind, it was genuine and generous. What a tremendous thing to be known for - a gift you gave, literally every day of your life, one I may have taken for granted. You didn't tell jokes, you didn't prank, you didn’t fall into uncontrolled bouts of laughter. You just laughed a lot: laughed at yourself, laughed with others, laughed off life’s trials, laughed through awkward moments, and laughed to put everyone at ease and bring joy to those who knew you, worked with you, and learned from you. With that laugh, you made life bearable, doable, and manageable. Thank you. You were an authentic man, who didn’t lie much - not a boy scout, but a truth speaker. You were simple, direct, and got things done - a man who loved family, food, football, and his fellow man. You were a kind father: quick to love, quick to forgive, and quick to level with me to instruct. You were perceptive and aware, deeply tender, and consistently gracious when I was at my worst. I never doubted, never questioned, never worried that you would be disappointed in me. Your love saved me from my deepest trauma. You were remarkably gracious when I could be vicious. I did not understand how truly mature, gracious, and majestic you loved until I was much older and a father myself. In you, I witnessed a part of God’s love - a sacrifice you made because you truly cared for me. That kind of manifestation of love is a redeeming kind of love. That’s just who you were. You taught me and Chris that you do for family, that there is always room, always forgiveness, always acceptance and love for family - and family ran deeper and wider then blood alone. You were gracious, gave others the benefit of the doubt and you tried. You were at every soccer game, stage play, and graduation....every single one. Oh, and you were proud - proud of us boys. You told me so many times, particularly in your later years, how proud you were of Chris and me. It was not a blind, out-of-touch pride, but a pride well-earned for carrying on the things you cared most about - the gifts you gave us. You were not a perfect man, but you were a good man, who came from good stock - a man who had a deep love of family, country, coal-fired meals, and faith. Nothing fancy, nothing forced. Just you being you. Work jeans, plaid shirts, vests, and new balance shoes. No fashion, not trying to run with the Jones’. Just a middle-class man, who worked 12-hour days, provided a safe home, with good food, and who supported pursing dreams. I called you the cliché king. Too many to number and my favorite ones are too crass to repeat in this setting, but you had an arsenal for every occasion. Every time we talked, every time, you said “Please give your sweet wife and my beautiful grandkids a hug from me, please will you, please!?" You knew how to do things, make things, and fix things. I never once heard you say, with trade type things, questions I would have about how to do something with a car, a house fix, a cooking thing, I never once heard you say, “I don’t know.” You always knew. You were a tradesman, and a true creative craftsman. You could sew anything you looked at or thought up. You had this “figure it out mentality” with everything you ever did. I never once saw you get defeated by a physical problem that could be solved with hard work and your hands. You covered boats, cars, and couches with fabric - who can count the number of aftermarket convertible/sim tops you created. It’s telling about your character that you don’t even know. Again, just work to be done, and something you loved to do. The other great love, the grill. The grill was good food, fired up, with all the fixin’s. You loved to feed friends, every birthday, every holiday was a reason to fire up the grill and eat well. The first housewarming gift you gave me was a double burner grill gas on one side and a smoker on the other. All of my cooking tricks and grill hacks are born of you. Thank you for teaching me how to cook corn, stuffing, and pork tenderloin in mouthwatering ways. You didn’t talk faith but I noticed. I didn't understand it as a child, but I knew it mattered to you, which in turn lead to it mattering to me. I chose a faith not well understood, you questioned me, but then simply supported me as you always did with everything I ever did. I needed nothing else from you. Till we meet again I know the loving gaze, the laugh, and the hug will be there....waiting.

Tributes

William Royce Morgan

December 25, 1948 - December 2, 2024