The Lois Wilson Story

by William G Borchert

  “As we flew, Bill slipped in and out of hallucinations, seeing dead or absent relatives at his feet, whom he would describe in detail for us. His left arm would occasionally slip off the narrow stretcher and hang down. I would lift it back onto his lap and give him a pat. He would try to smile and give my hand a grateful squeeze. I simply said, ‘Hold fast, Bill—one of his favorite expressions—Hold fast, Bill.’ ”43

  Arriving in Miami around noon, AA’s had arranged for an ambulance to rush Bill to the Heart Institute. Lois spent the rest of the day at her husband’s side. When he was placed in the breathing apparatus, she sat next to him hoping and praying this latest technology would perform some kind of a miracle. It was after eight o’clock that evening when Bill finally dozed off and she left his side. Lois and Nell checked into adjoining rooms at a nearby Holiday Inn, had a bite to eat, and then, thoroughly exhausted, fell into a deep sleep. What happened next was something Lois never forgot.

  There was a knock on her motel door around six that morning. When she opened it, there stood Dr. Ed, his eyes filled with tears. He said they had twice tried to revive Bill from a coma. They worked on him throughout the night. They couldn’t save him. He reached out and held Lois in his arms as she sobbed uncontrollably.44

  William G. Wilson died at 11:30 p.m. on January 24, 1971, the fifty-third anniversary of his marriage to Lois Burnham Wilson. He was seventy-five. The death certificate said he had advanced emphysema for three years and pneumonia for two weeks. It also read that congestive heart failure was a major contributing cause of his death.

  Nell remembers flying back from Miami with Lois that Monday afternoon. They barely talked. At one point through her grief and tears, Nell recalled her dear friend murmuring to herself, “Maybe I was too possessive. I wanted so much of his time, to be with him. Because I loved him. I loved him so much.”45

  Nell also knew how deeply hurt Lois was over not being called by the hospital when her husband was close to death. Lois wrote about that pain in her memoirs:

  “Bill’s death had been expected by the doctors at several periods during his illness, and I had known it was a probability; but we had both been so hopeful about this new treatment of Ed’s.

  “The missing him would come later. But the hurt of not being at his side at this supreme moment was immediate. Why was I not called? Bill and I had shared so many of life’s adventures; now, when the door opened for him into the greatest of mystical experiences, I was not there.

  “I try to be practical about it. It was to save me that the doctors hadn’t called me. Perhaps they were being kind to me. The pain might have been worse if I had been there. Bill might have been in a coma and not known me. But even so I wanted to be there, and the hurt of not being at his side is still with me.”46

  Since the Twelve Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous state nothing about a member’s anonymity after passing away, the whole world came to know the full name of the Fellowship’s cofounder on Tuesday, January 26, 1971, when Bill’s biography and picture were displayed on the front page of the New York Times.

  Memorial services were held in cities across the country and in capitals around the world. Tributes were paid to Bill and the founding of AA by U.S. and foreign dignitaries alike, from religious leaders to movie stars and from well-known social leaders to the lowliest of drunks recently arrived at the doorstep of the Fellowship.

  But perhaps the most moving memorial service was the one Lois held at Stepping Stones on the afternoon of January 27. While the old country house high on a hill overlooking the Hudson River valley found itself jammed with friends, relatives, and AA and Al-Anon members, Lois and Bill’s favorite prayer, the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, could be heard quietly echoing through the rooms and drifting softly out across the snow-covered grounds and bare-limbed trees and shrubs. Lois often said it filled everyone there that day with a sense that Bill was still among them and that his spirit would always be wherever an alcoholic was in need. They prayed:

  Lord, make me a channel of thy peace; that where there is hatred I may bring love; that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness; that where there is discord, I may bring harmony; that where there is error, I may bring truth; that where there is doubt, I may bring faith; that where there is despair, I may bring hope; that where there are shadows, I may bring light; that where there is sadness, I may bring joy.

  Lord, grant that I may seek to comfort rather than to be comforted; to understand, than to be understood; to love, than to be loved. For it is by giving that one receives. It is by forgiving that one is forgiven. It is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life. Amen.

  Bill Wilson was buried without fanfare in the small family cemetery in East Dorset, Vermont, near his parents who bore him and his grandparents who raised him. The simple gravestone that contains his name and military rank is made of the same white marble his father once quarried in the nearby Green Mountains. There is no mention of Alcoholics Anonymous.

  17

  Lois’s Legacy:

  Al-Anon, Alateen, and the Stepping Stones Foundation

  LOIS SAT BY HERSELF IN THE SPOOK ROOM FOR DAYS ON END, HER Bible in her lap, listening to the March winds whistling through the eaves of the old house and wondering, perhaps hoping, that somewhere in those strong, breathlike gusts she might hear Bill’s voice whispering to her or feel his presence beside her.

  If Bill was able to contact those on the other side during the many evenings they spent at “spook sessions” with their friends in this room, then why couldn’t he contact her? she would ask herself. Or why couldn’t she contact him, just to know that he was waiting for her and to let him know she would be along very soon? So she sat and listened and softly murmured how much she missed him and still loved him.

  Harriet would bring in a breakfast tray filled with tea, toast, and cereal and place it next to her chair. It wouldn’t be touched. Later she brought a small sandwich and a cup of hot cocoa for lunch. She even tried to entice her grieving friend with a small portion of Southern fried chicken and creamy mashed potatoes for dinner. It would all simply sit on the tray and get cold.

  “She wasn’t eating enough to keep a bird alive,” her housekeeper recalled. “She was already skin and bone so I called the doctor. She got angry with me but I wasn’t going to sit there and watch her die. I kept telling her that Mr. Wilson wouldn’t want that either.”1

  Lois didn’t even answer the many telephone calls or see the friends who wanted to visit. She simply wanted to be by herself. She wanted to be left alone. In truth, she wanted to be with Bill.

  Nell joined her on weekends. In her own loving way she began to force Lois to eat something, patiently spoon-feeding her at times while sharing the latest tidbits about AA and Al-Anon she had picked up at her job as chief archivist at AA World Services.

  Soon spring arrived and Nell had Lois out in the gardens, quietly admiring the first crocus emerging from its long winter sleep and watching a family of deer drink from the rippling brook that ran down the hillside.

  But while the hurt of not being at her husband’s side the night he passed away had now eased a bit, the pain of missing him was even more intense. She felt it each time she walked along a path near the house, each time she gazed toward his studio on the hill, each time she opened a dresser drawer or sat before the fireplace. He was all around her, yet he wasn’t. What reason did she have to go on? she asked herself. Why couldn’t it all simply end so she could be with her Bill once again?2

  It wasn’t until one weekend in early May that she found the answer. She and Nell were seated on the screened-in back porch drinking tea. That’s when Nell broached the subject of the annual Al-Anon Family Picnic. Lois almost dropped her teacup. She had completely forgotten that the first Saturday of June was right around the corner, and if there was to be a picnic this year, preparations had to be made. And, as Nell reminded
her, hundreds of Al-Anon and AA members and their families were anxiously waiting to hear from her. To see her. To be with her one more time.

  That’s when Lois suddenly realized how selfish she had been in her grief. Certainly she missed Bill. She always would, no matter how much longer she lived. And the pain of missing him would always be there. But her sorrow had turned into self-pity, and her self-pity had isolated her from all those who needed to share her life, her love, her experience—and all those she also needed in order to feel well again, to feel whole and useful and to carry on the work both she and Bill had been chosen to do.

  A few phone calls to Al-Anon friends turned out a horde of volunteers. They rented camp chairs for the front lawn, bought cases of soft drinks, hung signs, set up the loudspeakers and microphone, and selected the guides to show visitors around the house and grounds. Word soon spread far and wide, and even the weather forecast of severe thunderstorms and heavy rains dimmed no one’s enthusiasm. It rained before sunrise, but by noon the clouds had parted and the lawns had dried. Hundreds of Al-Anon, AA, and Alateen members gathered that day to bolster Lois, to salute their founders, and to share the blessings of sobriety with one and all. That was also the day when everyone became true believers that: “It never rains on Lois’s picnic. It wouldn’t dare.” And the truth is, it rarely has.3

  This was to be the first time Lois would greet everyone all by herself. Tears ran down her cheeks when she spoke to the crowd about Bill’s passing, but she went on to assure those in all three Fellowships that her husband’s spirit was there among them and always would be. Anne Bingham then said a few words, as did several other Al-Anon, AA, and Alateen members. No one left Stepping Stones that day with a dry eye, but everyone left with a full heart, a renewed spirit, and an even greater love and respect for the lady who always opened her home to them and always would—even long after she had finally joined Bill.

  The love and support Lois received that beautiful spring afternoon totally invigorated her, together with the several thousand cards and letters piled up on her desk, which she now began to read. Before long she was back out on the road, accepting invitations to speak at Al-Anon and AA conferences and conventions, both on Bill’s behalf and on her own.

  One day the thought occurred to her that she and Bill had planned to visit AA and Al-Anon groups all around the world, especially those in far-flung places where the Fellowship had taken hold during the last few decades. So why not do it now? She almost sensed that Bill was urging her on.

  The growing royalties from Bill’s book, which was their only income, could certainly underwrite such a venture. So, after speaking with Nell and a few other friends, Lois decided to pack up and take off.4 Lois had wanted Anne Bingham to join her, but Anne had recently moved to California to be near her daughter and also hadn’t been feeling well. So she invited her friend Evelyn Canavan, one of the early volunteers at the Al-Anon Clearing House and at the time a staff worker at Al-Anon World Services, Inc., which was then in New York.

  Together, and with the help of other staffers, they contacted various groups around the globe. The response was immediate and enthusiastic. Every group wanted Lois to visit and speak about her own experiences, the founding of Al-Anon, and also about her and Bill’s life together and the start of AA. Regional meetings were arranged. There were many offers to help with travel plans, sightseeing tours, and a host of events that spelled the warmest of hospitality.

  Although she had just turned eighty-three, Lois embarked on her journey with the zest and excitement of a teenager. Even Evelyn, who was fifteen years younger, was amazed. Their first stop was Africa and a tour of the wild animal reserves near Nairobi and Victoria Falls, between Zambia and then-Rhodesia. Lois’s “youthful exuberance” was evident every time she told the story about staying at a tourist inn called The Ark where buzzers and spotlights would wake you in the middle of the night when elephants and rhinos came to visit a waterhole within eyeshot of the facility. She would always add that the experience was only dimmed by not having Bill along with her.5

  They were greeted in Johannesburg by a large and excited AA and Al-Anon delegation. When both Lois and Evelyn spoke later at a private hall, it was so crowded that people were standing in the street and sitting in the windows. Lois was delighted to learn that despite South Africa’s segregation policy at the time, AA and Al-Anon meetings were places where all the races could assemble together.

  After a few days’ rest, Lois and Evelyn embarked on a six-day trek to Durban, a seaport on South Africa’s east coast. Once again, as they rode across the mostly barren land in a zebra-striped bus, they were awed by the thousands of wild animals—lions, tigers, zebra, apes, monkeys, ostriches, and antelope.

  One of their saddest, yet most memorable experiences occurred in Durban where they were both invited again to speak before several large gatherings of AA’s and Al-Anons. These meetings were held in a small private hall since larger government-run facilities at that time did not allow blacks and “coloreds” to gather there. However, AA’s and Al-Anons of all races were permitted to meet as a group in private places. Since most of these facilities were rather small, members of the Fellowships eager to see and hear Lois were jammed into every nook and cranny and even crowded the streets outside the windows. Lois always spoke of the people’s warmth and hospitality and how they all held hands to close the meetings with a prayer.

  Lois and Evelyn were also warmly welcomed when they arrived in Capetown, South Africa. From their hotel room they could look out toward the Cape of Good Hope and see both the Indian and the Atlantic Oceans. And the meetings in the city where they spoke were also filled to capacity.6

  The Al-Anon globetrotters then flew off to Perth, Australia, where Lois shared at a large gathering of Fellowship members at a Franciscan monastery. She later told friends she felt the spirit of St. Francis was at her side. Flying into Melbourne, she arrived in time to speak at Al-Anon’s first conference of delegates in that city. The following day, however, she came down with a very bad cold and had to postpone their trip to Christchurch in New Zealand for almost a week. But when they did arrive they received a warm welcome.

  Then it was back to Australia for a gathering of more than a thousand Fellowship members at the Town Hall in Sidney and a sumptuous dinner the following night with another throng at a rotating restaurant atop Sidney’s tallest building.

  Hong Kong was next on the agenda, a crowded, bustling place where Lois and Evelyn gawked at people of every nationality walking the streets and merchandise of every variety lining the shop windows. Many of the members attending Fellowship gatherings where they spoke were American businessmen and -women working for the numerous U.S.-based companies on the island. Lois recalled that during one sightseeing tour she and Evelyn were able to see across to Communist China.

  The next leg of their journey took them to a country Lois was eager to visit—Japan. However, one thing about the country greatly disappointed her at the time. She felt that in the nation’s rush to industrialize and modernize, the beauty she had seen in historic Japanese paintings and artwork had been somewhat distorted. In Tokyo, for example, she said all of the trees and shrubbery bordering the roadways looked alike. There was nothing unique or distinctive about them. She said they almost looked artificial. Nevertheless, Lois did find many spots of beauty, which she photographed and talked about on her return home.7

  Since alcoholism was and still is a big problem in Japan, Lois and Evelyn found both the AA and Al-Anon meetings packed, although the turnout surely had to do with these two special guests. Lois said she would never forget the love and warmth showered on them by both the Japanese and American members who filled the rooms.

  The two traveling ladies felt exactly the same way in Honolulu, the final stop and most fitting climax to their world tour. Lois said it seemed like every beautiful flower grown in Hawaii was hung around their necks by their grateful AA an
d Al-Anon hosts. The outpouring of their love was the balm Lois needed to fill her once again with deep gratitude and to further ease the pain of losing Bill. The memories of all the people they met and the places they visited on their global tour stayed with Lois for the remainder of her years.8

  Lois’s suitcases were barely unpacked when she was back at the Al-Anon World Services office in New York catching up on things. She was particularly curious about the progress being made on gathering material for the Fellowship’s archives to maintain the history of the movement. This was a job she placed in the hands of her very good friend and longtime volunteer Ruth L., who then lived in nearby Chappaqua. She later became a member of Al-Anon’s board of trustees.

  “Lois was twenty-five years my senior,” recalled the former trustee, “yet at times she had more energy and more excitement about her than anyone in the office. She was into everything, not just the archives. Lois was mainly interested in the development of Alateen. Until the day she passed away, she was focused on the welfare of the children of alcoholics, perhaps because she felt they were all her children too.”9 Ruth said Lois often talked about the very first youngster she heard speak at a meeting shortly after Alateen was formed. Something the shy, nervous teenage girl said struck Lois so deeply she quoted some of her words in a pamphlet she later wrote for Al-Anon.

  “When Daddy stumbled up the steps late at night,” the young girl said, “my little dog Trixie would crawl under the covers at the foot of my bed and shake. I’d cover my own head and pray that Dad would make it up to bed . . . This stopped after Dad’s first AA meeting. I went with him to his second. So did Mother.”10

  One of the projects Lois worked on the hardest was finding and encouraging Al-Anon members to serve as sponsors for Alateen groups, to explain the Twelve Steps and how to apply them to one’s own life. She was always disappointed when parents seemed unwilling to accept this responsibility. She once commented that AA’s are happy to sponsor fellow members and to serve at various functions and activities in their groups, but that many Al-Anons are unwilling to guide young Alateen members. In fact, some parents didn’t want their own children attending Alateen meetings.