“I have a feeling that if I ever find myself in Heaven, it will be from backing away from Hell.”
The negative approach
He said it at AA’s 1955 convention, in his talk on “God as We Understand Him.” Just before it he had said: “I doubt if there is anybody in this hall who really ever sought sobriety. I think we were trying to get away from drunkenness. I don’t think we should despise the negative.”
In August 1956 Bill W. took LSD for the first time, in California, and he soon had a group in New York trying it (Mr. Anonymous, in Number One Man, tells it). Father Ed came to one of their sessions, Bill wrote to Sam Shoemaker, where the drug was given to a researcher from Duke. “Father Ed declared himself utterly convinced of its validity, and volunteered to take LSD himself.” Pass It On says he accepted Bill’s invitation, and Glenn C. writes that he took it, but neither gives a date or a place, and the letters show only that he watched and volunteered. By 1959 he had doubts, and Bill thanked him for setting out his “apprehension about the LSD business.”
In November 1956 the Old Baden Society, with Father Ed leading it, announced a campaign to mark the grave of Dred Scott, the enslaved man whose suit for his freedom the Supreme Court threw out in 1857. Scott lay in an unmarked grave in Calvary Cemetery, three streets from where Father Ed grew up. Early in 1957 a newspaper photograph showed Father Ed with Scott’s great-grandson, pointing with his cane to the spot: “We have in mind putting up only a simple monument.” A descendant of the family that had owned Scott paid for the stone, and for a long time afterward visitors left Lincoln pennies on it.
His body was giving out (As usual follows it), and in his last article he was frank about why: “My 240-pound gluttony gave me two heart attacks.” An alcoholic doctor had got him down toward 180 by telling him to abstain completely from starch, butter, salt and sugar. “Abstinence was so much easier than temperance.”
On Saturday, April 2, 1960, he flew to Memphis for a Cana conference, and spent the evening with Cana friends and two AA members at the house where he was staying. He was found dead in bed at eight the next morning. On Wednesday he was buried from the College Church in St. Louis, in the Jesuit cemetery at Florissant, where he had entered as a novice in 1919. Bill W. came to the funeral.
It’s Saturday night, April 2, 1960, at a house in Memphis, Tennessee. Father Ed Dowling has flown down from St. Louis to lead a Cana conference for married couples, and now he’s sitting up late with his Cana friends and two members of AA, talking about God.
He is sixty-one. His back is stiff with arthritis, he has had two small strokes and, by his own count, two heart attacks, and last month he was in the hospital. He hasn’t slowed down.
Five years ago he told AA’s convention in St. Louis that if he ever found himself in Heaven, it would be from backing away from Hell.
At eight the next morning he is found in his bed. He has died in his sleep. Bill W. will write of that Saturday: “Never was there a gayer evening than in the hours before.”