His rich, deep voice was as recognizable as was his sweet, gentle smile, a smile that easily spread across his face and was mirrored in his eyes when he tried to soothe an upset youngster or encourage a frustrated parent or educator.

As kind as he was smart, William Whitaker embodied the best of humanity. A gentleman of regard, Whitaker was yet another one of those compassionate, genteel individuals that Sampson County was fortunate enough to have among its own. His death Friday has saddened a community, many of whom he knew, taught, loved, rooted for and worked with over his many years in the educational arena.

Long a champion of children, Whitaker was synonymous with every city school where he served as principal. He loved his young charges, believed in them and worked hard every single day to ensure each one of them had an opportunity at success. After his passing, stories of how he inspired many flooded social media. To a person, all echoed the same sentiment — William Whitaker made a positive difference in their lives.

But his love and inspiration didn’t stop with the children. He had a big heart, one that had plenty of room for his faculty and staff, and he kept it open for all of them right up until his last days. Whitaker never forgot them, always welcomed them into his home and spent countless hours talking to many of them either in person or on the phone, always interested in how they were doing and how he could help them.

Even after he retired, Whitaker never really stopped being a part of Clinton City Schools or the lives of those with whom he had come in contact with through the years. It was not unusual to get a phone call from him in the middle of the day, asking, in that silky smooth baritone voice of his, how you were and if you were up for a visit. He’d often stop by, goodies in hand, to deliver homemade pickles or pears, a gift he simply wanted to share.

While his beloved wife, Elmer, was alive, the two of them would visit together, sharing in the bounty they always said they were blessed to have. The treats were always good, but it was the visitors, themselves, that were actually the gift. The Whitakers were gentle souls who knew no prejudice and who looked at every person from the inside out.

“It’s a person’s heart that matters,” Whitaker once told a reporter from The Sampson Independent during an interview before his retirement. “You always look at the inside of a person. That’s where it counts.”

In Whitaker’s case, the inside mirrored what you saw on the outside — a remarkable man always willing to see the best in others.

Whitaker carried on the tradition the couple had started after his wife’s untimely death; it was his way of keeping her memory alive, but the light in his eyes had dimmed just a little, still mourning for the soul mate he had loved with all his heart and would forever cherish.

It was yet another thing that made William Whitaker special, endearing and remarkable. There were so many.

At 78 and in failing health, Whitaker’s opportunities to visit had waned, but he still called, that rich, melodious voice, though weaker, still easily recognizable and still used to check on others or to tout a success of one of his children. He loved them so much and was far prouder of them than even they could have imagined.

A great friend, a true gentleman and a humble soul, William Whitaker was a man of great faith who loved his family, adored his students, faculty and staff, supported his community and gave back far more than he ever took. We certainly could use many more like him.

Heaven gained another angel this week, but the example William Whitaker set, the trail he blazed and the kindness he showed to so many will allow him to live on in our hearts and minds forever.

We can never thank him enough for being a part of our lives, yet we can try by being the kind of person he was – quick to love, slow to anger and always willing to see the best in someone else.