tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-103180837427394832.post6940919086954535856..comments2022-12-04T23:51:06.679-08:00Comments on Paul Festa's Archive Fever: Bill Theophilus Brown, 1919-2012paulfestahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16640753424565328466noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-103180837427394832.post-52184074289815756392012-02-12T22:45:39.135-08:002012-02-12T22:45:39.135-08:00Barry Owen circulated this reminiscence among frie...Barry Owen circulated this reminiscence among friends via email, and gave permission for me to repost part of it here:<br /><br /><br />I loved spending the evening with Bill in his little apartment in the San Francisco Towers. I preferred bringing some dinner (usually bought next door at Whole Foods) to going out to a neighborhood cafe or even down to the dining room. <br /><br />I always arrived beaming with the expectation of pleasure and Bill would always light up when he greeted me at the door. Kiss, hug, "So good to see you!" and "Can I pour you a drink?" <br /><br />The same appetizers (triscuits with jack cheese and pecan) were always set out on a small table between two chairs beside his simple parson's bed. I'd drop the bags containing whatever I'd brought for dinner on the dining table and we'd settle in with a scotch on the rocks. <br /><br />Our visits usually included gossip and stories, often about famous people Bill had known. (Me: "By the way, did you ever meet Georgia O'Keeffe?" Bill, with a sly expression and chuckle: "That witch?" And then a story or two or three.) Maybe there'd be some back-and-forth about hot men, living and dead, in our circle and out. I usually noticed something new hanging on the walls and would ask about it. And if there was a stack of new work from the studio where Bill spent much of every weekday, I'd ask to have a look. We'd eat, and for dessert's dessert, read poetry to each other. Sometimes, Bill accompanied the readings with personal stories about the poets (Auden, Rukeyser, Sarton). I introduced Bill to Allen Ginsberg's "Please Master," and happily left my printed copy with him. We both loved Matthew Arnold's famous "Dover Beach," and read it to each other several times over the years.<br /><br />My last visit was with Dan, just before Christmas. We ate in the dining room, which required wearing a jacket. Earlier in the year, Bill said that he wanted to die. He shared this with Dan and later with me on separate visits, so this was a new theme. Neither of us was too surprised and found it easy enough to discuss Bill's declaration, if briefly. "Everything is becoming too difficult," he explained. But on that last visit before Christmas, Bill seemed stronger and peppier than he had during the previous year. I mentioned this, noting how quickly he sprang up from his chair and walked across the room. He was greatly looking forward to the visit of a young friend from France. He showed us photos of [his friend] and explained how they knew each other, though I don't remember those details now. <br /><br />Bill went into the hospital soon after [his friend's] visit, so it's easy to conclude that he burned himself out. He improved while in the hospital and came home. Just days before he died, as we heard from one of Dan's sources, he was strong enough to sit at his beloved grand piano and make more music. I was happy to read on Matt's Facebook page that he had had visited Bill at home, bearing raw oysters, a mutual favorite. <br /><br />After Bill left the hospital, I called and left a message on his voicemail, but I did not want to just show up. I assumed he was convalescing and needed to conserve his energy. I hoped I would hear from him when he gained the strength to listen to his messages. <br /><br />My heart is hollowed by this loss, but more than this, it's full with the richness of our friendship - and overflows with the unbelievable wealth of friendship in my life. I am cheered by the privilege of knowing this wonderful, accomplished, interesting and interested man. And by the knowledge that he lived long, had a blessedly full life, and went out "after a short illness" in what appears to have been a blaze of pleasure, and possibly, glory.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Barrypaulfestahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16640753424565328466noreply@blogger.com