
Williams faces the same challenge as other recreational players — life is busy. He spends most of his time on various projects, including promoting sportsmanship in collegiate athletics and speaking at peninsular schools.
Another not-so-random detail worth noting: Williams is 100 years old.
He grew up in Sausalito and lived for almost 16 years In front The Golden Gate Bridge opened in May 1937. Williams was in the front line of cars on the Marin County side of the bridge on this important day.
He attended the Naval Academy (his roommate was future astronaut Alan Shepard for a time), served in World War II, and enjoyed a successful career as an insurance executive. Then, in retirement, he got really active. Williams enjoys golf and still plays nine holes in Menlo almost every Sunday morning, an amazing feat when you’ve lived a full century.
“I love the idea of being a late bloomer,” Williams said.
Bob Williams holds his golf club at Menlo Country Club, Tuesday, March 1, 2022, in Woodside, California. Williams, 100, a centenarian, remains active and plays golf regularly.
Santiago Mejia / The ChronicleUnsurprisingly, he attributes much of his longevity to regular exercise. He ran (and then walked) in the stands at Stanford Stadium. Williams routinely went hiking, he said, until he was in his mid-90s. By his late 70s, he was doing push-ups three times a week.
Now at 100, William’s voice is rough and his mind sharp. He wrote a four-page article on “How to Live to Be 100, a 9-point Retirement Happiness Program,” complete with small black-and-white photos showing him at different stages of his life. He uses this as a guide when giving motivational speeches in schools.
Some of his suggestions are well known – exercise, avoid life-threatening falls and seek passions. Williams also advocates the joy of writing, joining and participating in organizations, and the “power and joy of appreciating others and expressing gratitude.”
As for golf, he first shot better than his age (79 at the time) by posting 77 at Sharon Heights in Menlo Park. He described himself as a casual player driven by the constant search for improvement. Williams took frequent classes in London, where he once lived part of the year, and he joked that he’d forgotten what he’d learned before coming back to the Bay Area.
But you’re never too old to think a breakthrough is on the horizon. Stanford women’s coach Anne Walker praised Williams’ swing last year, a comment he thinks about every time he plays. Walker also introduced him to standout Cardinal Rachel Heck, who won the NCAA championship last year; Williams hopes to host Heck in Menlo this spring or summer.
More than anything, Williams values the social component of golf. He and his playing partners joke about spinning a Union Oil (76) or El Camino (101). They welcome the camaraderie as much as the good shots.
“It’s just the socializing that golf brings — that’s meaningful to me and my life,” Williams said. “It feels so good to be fooling around with friends.”

Bob Williams at Menlo Country Club. At the age of 100, Williams still plays nine holes in Menlo almost every Sunday morning.
Santiago Mejia / The ChronicleAfter his brief session on the range last month, Williams was asked if he still hits balls regularly. His reaction had nothing to do with being 100 or slowing down in the face of fatherhood. Rather, he simply said, “I’m too busy.”
Consider his recent appearance as a speaker at Oak Knoll Elementary School in Menlo Park. The kindergarten class gave him a rousing ovation, and Principal Alicia Payton-Miyazaki later emailed Williams praising his presentation — mostly about the Nine Point Happiness Program — and telling him how moved the students and teachers were.
Williams launched a persistent letter-writing campaign, trying to persuade schools that their football players should win or lose. Say hello to the student department. Maybe sing the alma mater. This happened occasionally, not routinely, in William’s experience.
“It’s just common courtesy,” he said. “That goes far.”
He turned to Ted Robinson, then Stanford’s radio play-by-play broadcaster, for advice. Cardinal teams coached by Jim Harbaugh and David Shaw eventually began staying on the field until it became a habit.
Notre Dame proved to be more of a challenge. Former head coach Charlie Weis started a tradition in 2006 where players would gather near the student section after games, raise their helmets and sing “Notre Dame, Our Mother.”
But in 2013, Williams said, the school’s athletic director sent a letter to students saying footballers would only stay after Fighting Irish victories. A friend sent Williams a newspaper article about the decision.
Robinson, a Notre Dame graduate, was skeptical about how his school would respond to outside pressure, and Williams was initially stuck with letters to the university president and athletic director. But he persevered, finding an ally in the student body president and rallying support.
“I’ve never met anyone quite like Bob with his longevity, energy and passion for taking on a project,” said Robinson. “That’s the thing about his sportsmanship – it gave him one thing.”
Williams also organized an initiative to honor veterans at high school and college football games across the country. The Navy, in turn, honored him for his volunteer work during an on-campus banquet several years ago in Annapolis, Maryland.
Given his military background, he became emotional while telling the story. Williams served on a Navy battleship during World War II, repelling kamikaze attacks.
“It’s hard for me to say,” he said, fighting back tears, “but my fondest memory is serving my country in times of war.”
Williams lives in Menlo Park with his wife, Carol Mayer Marshall, who has had a distinguished career in politics and law (she has served in two presidential administrations). He doesn’t run everywhere like he used to – he used to go to Palo Alto to meet Robinson for lunch – so he relies on friends to take him.
That’s by and large a small concession to 100 years on Earth. Friends like Robinson find inspiration in the way Williams keeps active. Robinson shared the story of his grandfather, who had to retire at the age of 65 and later lamented waking up wondering what to do each day.
This is exactly what Robinson wants to avoid – and Williams offers a blueprint.
“I look at Bob,” Robinson said, “and say, ‘This is what I want to be.’ I want to wake up every day with something meaningful.”
Williams, whose 101st birthday is just two months away on June 23, remains strikingly optimistic. His discouragement at a few groundball shots on the range quickly faded into stories about his time in the Navy and his more recent efforts to impact collegiate sports.
“I’m just so lucky to be alive and alive with most of my marbles,” he said. “What a gift. Every day is a joy, really.”
Ron Kroichick is a contributor to the San Francisco Chronicle. Email: rkroichick@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @ronkroichick