A Mighty Soul

My memories of William Stringfellow are as warm and colorful as the island he came to I love. He was many things to many people: lawyer, politician, teacher, neighbor, and friend. Bill Stringfellow was my friend.

In 1967 my husband, John, introduced me to his friend Bill. They shared a love of politics and the circus. John was very active in the Democratic Party on Block Island. He was concerned that the minority party had no direction for the future.

In 1970 John urged Bill to run for town council. They agreed that Bill's chances were slim but saw his candidacy as an important step toward the future of the party. The election went as expected, but the groundwork had been laid. My husband died in 1974. He did not live to see Bill elected second warden of the island in 1976.

Bill became a good friend. I looked forward to our get-togethers. A conversation with Bill was always varied and interesting. He had strong opinions on many subjects and was guided by his sense of fairness and justice. I was mostly a listener, not adding much, but was always amazed and delighted at what I heard. Soon I would come to realize the depth of his personal courage and faith.

In 1984 our relationship changed. Bill became my patient, and I became a regular visitor to Eschaton. Every Tuesday and Friday at 10:30 a.m., I knocked on his purple door. My knock was answered by a shrill yipping, followed by a shout of "Quiet!" The door would open to reveal a little man in a circus hat. With MacDougal under his arm and Luke dancing alongside, Bill would welcome me.

We always found time for a visit. Bill loved to talk politics, local and national. He would fill me in on news from mutual friends and his plans for speaking engagements in the future. And of course we always paid our respects to his lovely cigar-store maiden and his beautiful carousel horse. Bill found great pleasure in both. Then we would get down to business.

Some days were better than others. I kept track of his condition: Blood pressure up or down? Swelling in the abdomen? Any pain in the kidneys? Legs discolored or swollen? He came to know the routine of his illness, the upkeep and maintenance of a body that stops functioning as it should, as if at odds with its tenant.

The new year of 1985 came, and his condition worsened. Bill tried everything. He was seeing the island physician, but only so much could be done at home. It became apparent that Bill needed hospitalization. He made trips to Westerly Hospital in Rhode Island and Yale-New Haven Hospital in Connecticut, where he went through a battery of tests. Bill remained hopeful. He made plans for the future. He told me he looked forward to writing, an occasional speaking engagement, and just being home. It was painfully clear to me that my friend was a mighty soul trapped in a frail shell.

The winter was a hard one, gray and cold, the kind with a wind that goes right through you. Bill did not improve, and hospitalization was advised again. The problem was anemia. If Bill could beat that, perhaps he could put on some weight and gain strength.

On February 14,1985, Bill was scheduled to go to Westerly Hospital. His spirits were good, and he managed a joke or two. The weather was bad that day, and he said he thought he'd wait until it cleared. I scowled and told him that if he knew what was good for him, he'd get on that plane. Bill laughed and said, "I'll see you in a couple of days." I kissed him good-bye. That was the last time I saw my friend.

After that things happened quickly. We were powerless to stop the events that were set in motion. All I could do was pray. I kept in touch with his doctors by telephone, and Bill's friends called with updates, but the prognosis was not good. Then, miraculously, Bill rallied. Grabbing on to any sign of hope, we joked how Bill had again beaten the odds. But as quickly as it had come, the hope vanished and our worst fears were realized.

On March 2,1985, William Stringfellow's journey was done. My good friend had gone home.

Mary Donnelly was a nurse and resident of Block Island at the time this article appeared. She was a friend and neighbor of William Stringfellow for many years.