And now we continue with the third part of our interview with Randy Williamson. We pick up where we left off last time when Mr. Williamson describes his initial reactions to being sent to the Michael Unit:
And the Lord was showing me that "Yeah, I've kept you alive; I know it's been hard. You've seen horrible things; I know you've got scars on your soul from this experience. But let me bless you a little bit before I turn you loose." And He did - He blessed me mightily. And finally, I saw the Parole Board again in...January of 1989 while I was there at the Michael Unit and still in administrative segregation - my father died.
Well, strangely before I got to the Michael Unit when I was still back at Ellis I, I had a dream one night. And in this dream, I walked into an apartment that I had never seen before and my mother was sitting in a chair. And she was crying - and I asked her, "Mom, what's wrong? What's wrong?" And all she could do is shake her head - she couldn't talk to me. She was so choked up she couldn't talk. And so I looked and there was a hall and at the end of the hall one door. So I walked down that hall and opened the door. And it was obviously a bedroom - and there was a single bed in this room. And upon seeing that single bed, I realized my father is gone because this has got to be my mother's bedroom and that means my father is gone. So I closed the door and walked back in the living room. And by this time, she'd finished crying and I said, "Mom, why couldn't you tell me?" And she said, "I just couldn't - I just couldn't tell you." - and then I woke up.
I had that dream in August of 1988, had no idea what it really meant - but I felt impressed that the dream was showing me that my father did not have long to live. So from the time of August until January, I wrote my father a series of letters thanking him for raising me, thanking him for clothing me and feeding me and keeping a roof over my head...After I had this dream and I woke up, it felt that the Lord was telling me that my father doesn't have long to live and it was by His grace that He was showing me that. And knowing that I was in prison in Texas [and] my father was in Kansas and in very poor health - so I sat down and wrote him a series of letters just thanking him for how he had raised me and taken good care of me, took me fishing, and was just a real good dad. And I sent him about a letter every two weeks just saying "Thanks for being the dad that you've been to me."
