The Lois Wilson Story

by William G Borchert

  He had been corresponding regularly, as she had suggested, even though her brief notes were far less frequent. But she knew from his letters what he still had in mind and prepared herself as best she could for that pivotal moment. This time, Clark and Matilda did most of the entertaining since, despite their frowns, Lois was not always “up to going out.” Norman sensed her interest in him was nowhere as deep as his interest in her, but he didn’t give up.

  Lois offered Norman little chance to “speak his mind” during his stay. Then came the day he was leaving for Montreal. He asked her to walk with him to the train station. There was simply no way she could refuse. She chatted aimlessly about everything from her business venture to the weather until they finally reached the depot and watched the train pull in.

  Lois didn’t know Bill was returning from Boston that very same day, so she didn’t notice him hop off the rear car and freeze at the sight of her and Norman standing close together. She didn’t see the expression on Bill’s face when Norman, determined to the last, kissed Lois on the cheek and asked her to marry him. While Bill never heard the words nor Lois’s reply, he could feel the anger and jealousy rising inside him even when Norman boarded the train and waved good-bye as it left the station.

  It was only when Lois turned to leave that she saw Bill standing there staring at her, this time without that disarming grin. She was startled at first, but then smiled at him very warmly. She could tell by the deep frown on his forehead that something was wrong. Something was bothering him. He came close to her and stopped.

  “You’ll miss him, won’t you?” he said quietly.

  “Yes,” she replied. “He is a very nice person. But . . . I’m not in love with him.”

  “You’re not?” Bill gulped.

  “No. I’m in love with you.”

  The glow she saw spread across Bill’s face at that very moment was something she would remember for years to come—something that would help carry her through some of those difficult times ahead. It was not only the glow, but the words that followed:

  “I . . . I love you too, Lois. I . . . I have now for a long, long time.”

  Only moments before, Bill Wilson was on the verge of feeling unlovable once again as he stood and watched his precious Lois being kissed by another man. What Bertha Banford had given him and was taken away by her death had been replaced by the warm smiles, the gentle touches, and the caring looks of Lois Burnham. She had made him feel whole again. And now her declaration of love healed every past wound and turned his fears and anxieties into indescribable joy.

  He took Lois into his arms. He pulled her close to him. They kissed, warmly and gently. Then they smiled again at each other, clasped hands, and walked slowly from the train station, their eyes never leaving each other’s face.

  They sat together on the dock outside the Burnham cottage that evening talking about the future, their hopes, their dreams. Lois squeezed Bill’s hand and told him what great things she saw ahead for him—that he could be anything he aspired to be—that he held as much promise inside him as this great country itself. Bill almost exploded with pride. He agreed with every word she said, only adding that he could not do it without her—that he needed her beside him every step of the way—that he was the sail but she was the rudder. They laughed and hugged and kissed, saying over and over how much they loved each other.12

  Before the moon rose over Emerald Lake, they were betrothed.

  4

  War Changes Many Things

  BY THE SUMMER OF 1916, THE WAR CLOUDS THAT FILLED THE skies over Europe were beginning to drift slowly and inexorably toward America . . . but toward an America still not ready to go to war.

  Overseas, however, on the war’s Eastern Front, the Russian and Serbian armies were on the verge of collapse under the intense bombardment of the better-equipped and better-trained German and Austrian forces. But on the Western Front, these same forces were locked in almost intractable trench warfare with the defending French and British troops.

  On the high seas, Germany’s effective submarine campaign was sinking large numbers of Allied supply ships, gradually depleting the cache of weapons and ammunition necessary for France and England to break through the German lines. But the U-boat siege had become “unrestricted”; the German navy was sinking British and French passenger ships without warning, claiming they carried war supplies.

  At this juncture, U.S. President Woodrow Wilson, who held staunchly to a neutrality policy, demanded that this type of indiscriminate warfare be abandoned. The German government responded by sinking the British liner Lusitania on May 7, 1915, killing more than a thousand passengers, among them 128 Americans. Still, President Wilson continued to cling to his neutral stance despite the growing number of leading political and social figures demanding that America enter the fray.

  Against this background, Lois Burnham and William G. Wilson were contemplating their future together.

  Since Bill still had almost a year and a half remaining at Norwich before graduation and then a two-year stint with the army after that, the idea of marrying before then was out of the question. Well, not completely. But they decided to keep their engagement a secret for a while nevertheless.

  Lois corresponded regularly with Bill from her home in Brooklyn—in fact, much more than regularly. She once said she wrote her fiancé so many letters from the fall of 1915 to the summer of 1916 that she could have used them to wallpaper an entire room at Clinton Street. His letters were not nearly as frequent but were equally effusive in their expressions of love and commitment.1

  After a while Lois’s mother became rather curious about all these missives, but it wasn’t until she and Clark received a Christmas card from Norman Schneider that the cat finally crawled out of the sack. Norman simply wanted to thank Dr. and Mrs. Burnham for all their warm hospitality during his several stays with them, adding that he wished Lois and Bill much happiness together.

  Dr. Burnham waited several days before broaching the subject with his daughter. Lois was never one to hem and haw. She was always truthful and direct once things were out in the open. She told her father that she and Bill were deeply in love, were unofficially engaged, and would like to make their betrothal formal when the time was appropriate.

  Clark Burnham was also very truthful and direct, especially with his children. He said a young man of twenty, still in college and with no career goals except the army, was hardly a brilliant prospect for a son-in-law, particularly when compared to the wealthy young gentleman from Kitchener, Ontario, whom she had recently discarded. But since his daughter wasn’t prone to flights of fancy, he said, he knew she must have given all of this and its possible pitfalls serious consideration. He concluded that if she was so deeply in love with Bill Wilson, he would not stand in her way. He said he and her mother were genuinely fond of the young man and would be pleased to make the formal announcement of their engagement whenever she wished.

  Lois burst into tears. She hugged her father, then ran into the kitchen to hug her mother while Clark called her brothers and sisters into the parlor and broke the news. Everyone in the Burnham clan—with the exception of Rogers—was stunned by Lois’s decision, but since they were also truly fond of Bill, they were very happy for both of them.2 The Burnhams decided that since Bill was in school and the family would be summering as usual at Emerald Lake, any formal announcement of the engagement should be put off until the fall, when they would have a large gathering at their home in Brooklyn. Because there were no immediate plans to marry, the young couple thought that was fine. This decision also gave Lois the opportunity to spend some time with Bill’s mother, Emily, that summer. Emily had now remarried and was living in a comfortable home on the outskirts of Boston.

  “She was very polite but rather aloof at first,” Lois recalled of their initial visit. “But after a while, with the help of her charming husband wh
o was also a doctor, she warmed up and told some very funny stories about Bill as a baby. He seemed to get embarrassed, but she continued right on regardless. All he said when we left was, ‘Well, that’s my mother. I guess you’ll just have to get used to her.’ That was easy since she moved to San Diego, California, shortly after that and we seldom saw her.”3

  Lois simply adored Bill’s grandparents, particularly Grandpa Griffith. “He would just rave on and on about his grandson’s exploits as a child. He claimed there was practically nothing Bill couldn’t do if he put his mind to it. This also embarrassed Bill but in a much different way. There was always that touch of pride in his eyes when we left Grandpa Griffith’s house.”4

  While Lois had now taken a position with a private school, and Bill worked for the local phone company in East Dorset and chopped down trees in the mountains to earn extra money, they did manage to find time together. Sometimes it was a Saturday sail on the lake, or breaking a new trail in the Taconic Range, or simply sitting on the dock outside the Burnham cottage sharing their dreams about the future.

  “We had so many wonderful times during those two-and-a-half years of our engagement,” Lois recalled, “both the unofficial then the formal part. We yearned to be married since our love for each other was so intense, but we fought to remain practical and use our common sense. Then the war changed everything.”5 The formal announcement of their engagement was finally set for the Thanksgiving of 1916. While Lois crossed off the days on her calendar, Bill kept chopping down trees and looking forward to his first excursion to an exciting place he had only heard about from the “summer people.”

  He took the early train from Manchester that Wednesday. Lois met him at Grand Central Station. It was as if they had been apart forever. Even before he could loosen his backpack, they were kissing and hugging as though the hundreds of commuters rushing by were invisible.

  Lois had the whole day planned. First they would shop for her engagement ring, as Bill had insisted. Lois led him around to the less expensive jewelers even though Bill kept telling her there was only one place he wanted to go—Tiffany’s. He had heard the “summer people” say it was the finest jewelry store in the world, and for his girl, only the finest would do. So finally that’s where they went, and to Lois’s amazement, she found a ring there she absolutely loved. And it accommodated Bill’s budget exactly—a small amethyst for twenty-five dollars. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried the ring on for size. It fit perfectly. The sales clerk wrapped the silver ring box in shining pink paper with white ribbon. Bill stuffed it into his coat pocket and they walked out of Tiffany’s arm in arm.

  The next stop was the wilds of Staten Island for a picnic by the bay. Back then the borough was quite unsettled, with large open lands and marshy areas. This was Lois’s idea—to show Bill the “outdoors” of New York. Fortunately the day was sunny and mild for November, although a little breezy. It took a subway ride, a ferry crossing, a bus, and a trolley to get there, but it was exciting, especially for Bill who had never seen a subway, a ferry, or a trolley before. Lois knew the area from some outings she had taken with the Brooklyn YWCA. They bought a steak and some potatoes at a small market, then meandered down toward New York Bay, where they found a grassy spot surrounded by marsh reeds.

  They threw the potatoes in the hole Bill dug for the fire, and Lois sat on his overcoat while he cooked the steak on a large stick he used as a spit. They had done this often back in Vermont. They treasured those days when they would hike together in the lush Green Mountains, swim in the lake, and work up a ravaging appetite. Things were a bit different here among the reeds on Staten Island, of course, but they had worked up a pretty fair appetite.

  It happened before they had a chance to eat. While the steak was still sizzling and the potatoes baking, the breeze from the bay suddenly kicked up into stiff gusts. The wind blew the burning embers across the grass and into the reeds. The dry marsh plants burst into flames. Fearing the worst, Bill took off his jacket and began beating out the fire. Lois grabbed his overcoat off the ground and did the same.

  When the immediate crisis was over and the fire completely out, the steak lay blackened in the pit next to the potatoes, and, worst of all, Bill’s jacket and overcoat were scorched and covered with soot. Lois blamed herself. Bill could see it in her face. Bill touched her cheek, then suddenly dug into his coat pocket and fumbled around as though he had lost something. After a moment, he grinned, and slowly pulled out the shining pink-papered package that contained Lois’s engagement ring. The paper was smudged but the ring was fine. He held it up for her. She started to laugh. So did he. They both took a deep breath, kissed and hugged, and then headed for Brooklyn—smoky clothes and all.6

  Nothing could have prepared Bill Wilson for Clinton Street, not from the moment he crossed the large entrance foyer to the moment he entered the elegant living room where he was greeted by Dr. and Mrs. Burnham. While Lois apologized for their sooty appearance and slightly charred clothing, Bill gazed around, his eyes and mouth wide open.

  The oak-paneled walls above the doctor’s massive bookcases were lined with paintings and engravings. The floor was covered with thick carpeting colored in rich, soft tones. The furniture spoke of wealth and authority. He glanced across into the spacious dining room with its brilliant chandelier and mahogany buffet filled with sterling silver and the finest china. It was only then that it struck him. This was Lois Burnham’s world, not his. This was where and how she had grown up, in a style and fashion far removed from anything he had ever known. That’s when he began to feel small and insignificant, like an alien in some strange universe. He felt he didn’t fit in a place like this. Perhaps he never would. That familiar gap inside his gut opened wide once more. It had never really closed, but now it was making him twist and turn uncomfortably like that morning on the porch of the Burnham cottage on Emerald Lake when he felt stupid and clumsy peddling his kerosene lamps.7

  Suddenly he sensed Lois squeezing his hand. Her arm snuggled into his as she moved closer. The look on her face told him everything was going to be all right. He wanted to believe her. He had to believe her. He needed her love and assurance to feel whole.

  Lois, on the other hand, was elated and at ease with herself. After all, the man she loved, the man who was on her mind and in her heart every waking moment, was being accepted by her parents and her entire family. But if she had known what was going on inside Bill at this very moment, she would have caressed him, nestled him in her arms, and told him not to fear, that she would take care of everything.

  In fact, she did. The first thing was to have the housekeeper arrange to have Bill’s jacket and coat cleaned and repaired. Then she had the sleeves taken down in one of Rogers’s jackets to fit Bill’s long, lanky arms so he wouldn’t miss the next event she had planned—lunch the very next day with Elise and Frank Shaw.

  They met at the Tavern on the Green in Central Park. It was jammed with Thanksgiving holiday visitors. Elise and Frank still acted like newly-weds even after more than a year of marriage. Lois was very happy for both of them. After lunch they toured the city and enjoyed the excited look on Bill’s face every time he stopped and stared at the huge crowds. Traffic was heavy in midtown Manhattan, even back in 1916. Bill was impressed by Frank Shaw’s sophistication and his high-powered Wall Street connections. It stirred something inside him—the magnet of wealth and position. Shaw, on the other hand, seemed quite taken with Bill’s unabashed patriotism and his eagerness to defend his country. While Shaw was several years older, he treated Bill as a peer, which pleased Lois immensely.8

  The Shaws came to the formal dinner party at the Burnhams’ that evening, where the engagement was announced and Lois accepted Bill’s ring. As they joined the other guests and the family around the dining room table, Bill faced still another awkward moment. There weren’t just one spoon and one fork beside his dinner plate but several forks and several spoons. Which one
was he supposed to use and for what? But as they all sat down, Lois rode to his rescue once again. She nudged him very gently, smiled, then reached down and picked up the outside spoon. It was for the soup now being served. He followed her lead and almost immediately felt himself relaxing.

  While Lois probably would have denied it, most would agree that it took a very special lady to do such a thing without drawing attention and making her fiancé feel like a fool. As a result of her loving actions, the rest of the evening, and the next four days in fact, went splendidly. Bill found himself telling stories of his sometimes near-disastrous hunting and fishing escapades back home, the hilarious practical jokes he and Ebby cooked up at school, the mysterious and funny characters he grew up with in East Dorset. Before long he had everyone roaring with laughter, including the good doctor and his wife. The family loved him. Lois simply sat back, smiling with pride.9 By the time Bill said good-bye to Lois and her family and left Brooklyn Heights, the gap inside had almost vanished, and he was walking with both feet planted firmly in midair. However, by the time he returned to Norwich, war clouds were drifting even closer to U.S. shores, and he would soon be faced with some momentous decisions.

  Despite incessant provocation for two years since the sinking of the Lusitania, President Wilson held to his neutrality policy. While his patience angered many, it did help to solidify American public opinion that peace could not be made with such ruthless enemies and that the time had come to support and defend the nation’s allies. Finally, when German U-boats began sinking American supply ships, President Wilson hesitated no longer. The United States entered the war against Germany and Austria on April 6, 1917.

  Lois and Bill happened to be having lunch together that weekend in Manchester. They passed a newsstand on their way down the street and saw the headline. Bill bought a paper and read part of President Wilson’s statement to Lois while deep concern and apprehension swirled through her. “It is a fearful thing to lead this great, peaceful people into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself seeming to be in the balance. But the right is more precious than peace and we shall fight for the things we have always carried nearest our hearts.”10