William D. Whittaker

Faced with the inevitability of the shortened days of winter and a diminishing capacity in his

lungs, William (Bill) Whittaker returned to his Williamsburg home to finish his journey among

family, passing in his sleep on December 3, 2025. Noting that he had "quite a ride" over 92

years, he spent more energy in his final days encouraging his wife and children to live full lives

rather than fuss with his own comfort, whispering "I'm fine" to any inquiry.

He is survived by his beloved wife, Donna Crosset Whittaker, with whom he shared 67 years of

marriage and adventures; three children (Debra Spillman, Doug Whittaker, and Donald

Whittaker); and four grandchildren (Chris and Alex Spillman, Quyanna and Beckler Whittaker).

He was predeceased by his parents, Paul and Margaret Whittaker, and his grandson, Connor

Spillman.

William was born in Buffalo and grew up with his brother along the Finger Lakes in upstate New

York. Raised in a strict Adventist tradition that spurned sports and popular culture, he sought

broader experiences by enlisting in the Marines at age 18. Reaching corporal, he served as a

bodyguard to the Admiral of the Atlantic Fleet on the USS Wisconsin, fiercely defending the

Marine Corps' honor among some 2,000 Navy shipmates in ports-of-call across northern Europe.

Returning home, he enrolled at the University of Connecticut, becoming a proud Huskie and

Sigma Chi fraternity president. Within a couple of years, he had courted and married Donna

Crosset of Swarthmore, Pennsylvania and president of her Pi Phi sorority. His traditional

background and team-first training in the Marines did not quite prepare him for Donna's spirited

competitiveness, but both contributed to his underlying benevolent nature and their eternal

compatible dynamic. As she taught him to play tennis, she once reminded him, "Bill, the idea is

to hit the ball where they aren't and win the point." To which he replied, "but Donna, that is so

unkind!"

He eventually got the hang of competition, becoming a passionate sailor, cyclist, and hiker who

was clinically disposed to chase any boat on the water or person leading him up a trail –

regardless of whether they knew a contest was afoot. After about age 85, an e-bike helped

keep his winning streak intact.

William applied his enthusiasm and compassion to his professional life, climbing corporate

ladders and jumping between fields until he found roles manufacturing artificial kidneys,

advancing dialysis care, and blood imaging analyses. A risk taker and big picture strategist, his

special skills were less about tallying wins and profits, and more about getting people to work

together for common goals. From European headquarters in Brussels, he helped synchronize

diverse and previously uncooperative workforces at plants in Ireland, the Netherlands, and East

Germany in the late 1970s – mostly by giving people tasks and responsibilities, then getting out

of the way. Understated and humble leadership was his style.

Returning to the states, he later became director of National Medical Care, a division of WR

Grace, and still later helped launch Intelligent Medical Imaging, a slightly-before-its-time

attempt to apply machine learning to blood laboratory analyses.

In the course of his career and retirement, the family moved a fabled 14 times, with inevitable

challenges and opportunities. Towns included Stonington, Waterford, Old Lyme, Fairfield, and

Wilton in Connecticut; Miami and Palm City in Florida; Brussels, Belgium; Bedford, New

Hampshire; and finally Williamsburg, Virginia. Seasonal homes in Woodstock, Vermont and a

cruising sailboat in Kittery, Maine contributed to the geographic spread.

The first twenty years of retirement were at Harbour Ridge in Palm City, Florida. Unable to sit

still, William volunteered with a new US Sailing Center on the St. Lucie River (teaching kids

seamanship and racing technique) and worked for marine conservation with the Florida

Oceanographic Society. Never far from a kayak or bike, he loved exploring Florida's waterways,

beaches, mangroves, and everglades – taking up the fight to minimize the damage to them from

sugar and tourism industries when necessary.

Seeking four seasons and proximity to family, Bill and Donna moved to Williamsburg, Virginia in

2012. First at Ford's Colony and in the last three years at Windsor Meade. William continued to

paddle and sail on Virginia's tidewaters – mostly in his kayak but also as a volunteer on the

Godspeed, Jamestown's replica square rigger, on trips up the James River toward Richmond.

When someone finally figured out that a man in his late 80s was volunteering to climb the

shrouds to adjust the sails, they gently suggested more suitable tasks.

A chronic reader and notetaker throughout his life, in his later years Bill enjoyed applying this

source material to self-published books. Asa was his take on an historical novel, tracing a

legendary great-great grandparent's trek from indentured servitude in Wales to new beginnings

in 19 th century America. A Fiftieth Anniversary Memoir and expanded Whittaker-Crosset

Odyssey narrate the primary adventures of his life with Donna, the latter filtered through a

literary device that followed the timeline of a beloved family dog, a golden retriever named

Charlemagne. Careful readers might find it hard to distinguish the loyal and ever-enthusiastic,

but slightly clumsy canine from the narrator. A draft of his final book, Vitals, was set to tackle

our planet's environmental crises, and his relentless optimism that humans could reverse the

harm our modern culture is inflicting upon our environment. In conversations about that book

over the past few years, he always insisted that, "we can do it – and we must."

An avid outdoorsman who hiked, biked, skied, and paddled in the Alps, Alaska, Canada, Rockies,

Pacific Northwest, and New Zealand, he probably loved the rolling hills of Vermont near

Woodstock best, a place where Donna and Bill spent many summers. A perfect morning might

include a trek up Mount Tom, followed by a walk into the village for a coffee with the locals,

bringing back the paper and a bear claw to share with his wife on the front porch. As he passed

his final days, he returned to these memories on several occasions, reminding us all of life's

simple pleasures.

A small private family service will be held at a later date

In lieu of flowers feel free to make a donation to your favorite conservation organization