by Alex Weddon, Amy Tomlin, and Patrice Johnson

Willah lived with grace, grit, and a gentle sense of humor.

Our mom—Willah Weddon—was pretty cool. She, like all our neighbors along Dexter Trail and Brogan Road, made do with what she had. Willah could ride a horse, drive a tractor, bottle-feed orphan lambs, and manage a clutch of five curious children on the 80-acre farm outside Stockbridge—all while producing syndicated journalism that reached 17 states.

She was, in the truest sense, a Michigan original.

Roots in Oakland County

Willah Mary Skinner was born Sept. 1, 1922, to a family whose surnames still mark mailboxes in White Lake Township—Skinner, Jones, Marshall, and Fisk—names remembered, too, at the Kelley-Fisk Farm Museum. Valedictorian of her Comstock High School class, she went on to graduate from Western Michigan University. Her father held steady work during the Depression, an experience that shaped her lifelong sense of duty to those less fortunate and her gratitude for small blessings.

The warmth of home

Coming inside during winter with cheeks stung red, we kids knew hot cocoa awaited. Summer meals revolved around garden harvests from a plot eldest son Todd and Mom cultivated. Our Victorian farmhouse brimmed with plants grown from seed—including Mom’s avocado tree, sprouted from its pit, inching toward the living room ceiling.

Mom was a champion debater in high school, and she passed that love of careful thinking to her children. Todd and Patrice competed at Stockbridge High School, and lively discussions around the oak dining table ranged from politics to physics.

Never a person to complain, Willah looked at life through good-natured, observant blue eyes. She appreciated a dip in Jones Lake, a flickering campfire, and a child’s laughter.

“If you can’t say something nice,” she’d remind us, “don’t say anything at all.”

Breaking into the Press Corps

Willah Weddon was the first woman admitted to the Capital Press Corps in Lansing in the early 1970s. The press room was, in those days, a cigar-smoking men’s club. She was denied access to the room and a space to type. No mail slot bore her name.

So, she set up an office next door.

Ever gracious, Willah entered the orbit of politicians and news hounds in Michigan’s capital, eventually winning over her reluctant colleagues. She founded the Women’s News Bureau and throughout the following decade, she interviewed Ronald Reagan, Robert Kennedy, Pat Nixon, and every Michigan governor seated since the late 1940s.

Emmy award-winner Tim Skubick, anchor of WKAR’s “Off the Record,” told Patrice, “Willah broke the glass ceiling. She was a legend in Lansing.” His face lit with gratitude as he recalled her mentorship.

Michigan Gov. George Romney told her son Alex, “Your mom is a good journalist and friend.”

Over her career, Willah earned 82 first-place state awards and 13 national awards. She authored seven books now featured in the Michigan History Museum. In 1994, the Michigan Legislature passed a joint resolution honoring her as Michigan’s Woman of the Year. Husband Edward Weddon, MD, stood at her side through thick and thin.

When the Press Corps finally invited her Women’s News Bureau to their exclusive “Humble Open” golf tournament, Willah entered Alex as the Bureau’s golfer. He won low score, low net, and the skins money for an eagle. Willah graciously let the glowering crowd drink up the winnings.

On the road

Son-in-law Jim Johnson tells of volunteering at the Kiwanis concession trailer in Chelsea during a festival. With a side street cordoned off, he watched as Willah’s white Dodge Dart—rearview mirror affixed with duct tape and chewing gum—wove past orange barricades and parted the crowd like river waters.

“I needed to get through,” Willah later explained.

Patrice’s childhood friend Judy Williams remembers car rides. “Willah drove while smoking a cigarette and looking at us in the backseat. I would yell, ‘Car! Car!’ so she’d turn around. She was a fun lady with lots of stories to tell.”

When asked why she drove straddling the centerline, Willah replied, “I like to keep my options open.”

A legacy in love

Summers, night-owl Willah rose with the sun to cart daughters Amy and Patrice to horse shows across the state. The blue station wagon sagged low as it hefted the hand-welded red horse trailer—a treasure Mom had purchased with her earnings.

“She believed in family first,” Amy shared. “Though she earned myriad awards as a writer and leader, she was never pretentious. She was amazing. She was our hero.”

Lying near death at the age of 85, Willah smiled and squeezed son Bradley’s hand. “We had a lot of amazing adventures, didn’t we?”

Willah died June 21, 2008, and no Christmas Eve is complete without family members reading one or two of her stories. Her tales bring to life the authentic and endearing experiences of five children growing up on a family farm.

Willah Weddon’s Library of Michigan author profile can be found at: libraryofmichigan.state.mi.us/authors/Author/Details/568