By Solomon Crenshaw Jr.
Marquetta Hill-King admits she didn’t always understand her father, the man known as Birmingham’s Batman.
When she was in school, Hill-King would sometimes accompany Willie James Perry as he drove around town in his souped-up 1971 Ford Thunderbird to aid people.
“I thought people were laughing at us because of the car,” Hill-King said. “But when I started riding and seeing the passion from people in the city, it really gave me a different look at what he was doing.
“In a sense, he was our superhero.”
A hero’s legacy
Thirty-one years have passed since Birmingham’s Batman patrolled the highways and byways to change a tire, offer a ride or even pay for lodging for stranded out-of-towners. But his daughter and others don’t want his memory to fade, having formed the Willie J. Perry Foundation.
The foundation’s Wheels of Change project restores donated cars and gives them to single parents. There are also community education programs such as one in Midfield on June 18 to address bullying.
The foundation’s other initiatives include weekly visits to feed the homeless and elderly, and the Willie J. Perry Vanguard Leadership Awards in November. The restoration of Perry’s car is another goal; the foundation wants to return it to the road as a symbol of helping others.
“He was ASAP before there was ASAP,” Hill-King said, referring to the roadside assistance program that aids motorists. “He was a good Samaritan.”
One of a kind
A 1982 episode of the ABC television show “That’s Incredible” told the world about Birmingham’s superhero. Perry wasn’t a caped crusader, but he did wear a helmet and he drove an incredible car that he remodeled and revamped.
The car was dubbed the Rescue Ship, but many knew it as the Batmobile. It was outfitted with a record player, an Atari video game player, a television, a toaster, flashing yellow and red lights, refrigerator, running water and a telephone.
“It looked like a spaceship going down the road,” recalled foundation member Lee Shook. “It was a one-of-a-kind automobile. You’ll never see another one like it anywhere else.”
These days, the Rescue Ship is at Old Car Heaven.
Ironically, Perry met his demise because of his car. The Associated Press reported that he succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning as the car was running in the garage of J.F. Day and Company on a cold January night in 1985.
“The car in which he did so much good took his life,” Shook said.
Acts of kindness
According to BhamWiki.com, Perry was spurred to action after he heard about a woman who was raped by a group of men who claimed they were stopping to help after her car had broken down. He took to the streets to prove people could be trusted.
When making his rounds, Perry wore a white helmet – with the bat logo – and a white jumpsuit with brown trim. He accessorized his outfit with portable pagers and various tools worn on his utility belt.
In addition to carrying gasoline, battery jumper cables and tools, Perry gave free rides to people who had too much to drink, and he took elderly people to doctor appointments, drove kids to McDonald’s and entertained at children’s birthday parties.
The Titusville resident visited homebound neighbors and assisted with guiding traffic around road hazards. On at least one occasion, Perry foiled an attempted robbery at a pharmacy.
In one of his last acts of kindness, he helped four University of Tennessee students stranded by snow. He found a motel room, and when the students could muster only $7, he paid the other $30.
“He just gave so much of himself,” Hill-King said. “Everything he’d make he would basically give it away in helping somebody else.”
