The CEA Forum
Winter/Spring 2005: 34.1
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Note to readers: William Sullivan, longtime CEA member, died on April 11, 2003 (as reported in the Rock Hill Herald [South Carolina]).
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BILL SULLIVAN ON LEAVING CAROLINA IN APRIL
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Bill Sullivan once wrote a poem about Pee Wee Gaskins, the outlaw renegade, who was executed on September 6, 1991. A line in that poem, as best I can recall it, says, “No one ever willingly left Carolina in April.” Bill was exactly right to remind us of how lovely Carolina is in the spring, this year being no exception. However, Bill's untimely passing on April 11 grimly echoes a line from another poet, T. S. Eliot, who describes April as the “cruellest” month. Bill Sullivan's truncated life -- he was barely 61 -- leaves everyone with memories of both the loveliness of his life and the cruelty that has robbed us of his sweet presence.
I can't recall (though I could find out if I asked his momma) whether Bill was born in Louisiana or Mississippi. I know for sure he was a Southern boy to the core. Son of a Baptist preacher, Bill grew up near New Orleans, where he had a paper route. One of his customers was none other than the esteemed writer and philosopher, Walker Percy. Of course, when you're a youngster, having a famous novelist as a subscriber, or even a movie star for that matter, doesn't make much difference. Didn't to Bill then either. He once told me he had no real idea who Percy was; he was just “Mr. Percy.” Much later in life -- after Bill had earned his doctorate at Louisiana's finest, LSU, focusing on British literature of the 18th century -- Bill became enamored with Walker Percy's life and work. The quest for the meaning in Percy's writings kept Bill busy for the remainder of his adulthood. Even in the last weeks of his life, Bill was still talking to me and others about Percy, though it had been 50 years probably since he had tossed the newspaper on Mr.Percy's porch.
Bill had other quests, too. He and his equally charming wife, Peggy, brought into their soft-spoken home five lovely daughters. Known to all of them as Poppa, Bill hung out with the girls by reading to their classes when they were in elementary school, by taking them to baseball games, movies, and plays. When the girls were all quite small, the entire family -- Bill, Peggy, and all five girls -- had roles in Oliver!, a feat probably unique in theatrical circles. Some years later when Bill came to chair the English Department at Winthrop, it seemed inevitable that his daughters would enroll at Winthrop. And they did. All five daughters graduated from Winthrop; the last finishing as recently as 2002. Of course, most of them majored in English!
About five years ago, Bill was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, only to discover within the past year he had not Parkinson's but a malady -- about which very little is known -- that is even more devastating and life-shortening than Parkinson's. Though much was taken, much remained (to paraphrase the poet, Tennyson) in Bill's life during his last years. Principally, his sense of humor, his wit, his love of family, baseball -- and his writing. He kept writing poetry, the outlet for whatever he wanted to say about life other than saying it directly to you. He did that exceptionally well, too, I might add. In addition to the poem about Pee Wee Gaskins, Bill wrote a poignant and brilliantly sketched poem about the two sons drowned by their mother, Susan Smith. In recent months, Bill wrote poems about the birth of his grandsons, about Carolina in April, and probably about Walker Percy.
About four years ago, Bill and a graduate student at Winthrop took a Percy tour to Tennessee, Mississippi, and Louisiana. They interviewed the famed Southern historian, Shelby Foote, the iconoclastic preacher and close friend of Percy's, Will Campbell, plus Percy's sister, and other relatives and friends of the novelist. These conversations became the centerpiece of a study Bill was working on about Percy's life. He never told me, but I do hope he got to mention to the Percy clan that he once carried the daily news to Mr. Percy's porch. If Bill and Walker Percy have a rendezvous to meet somewhere after this life, I like to think by now they have shaken hands and sat down with a bottle of bourbon to talk over the good times. Mr. Percy can go about contemplating worlds to come and Bill will write a poem about what it was like getting to know Mr. Percy up close and having to leave Carolina unwillingly in April.
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Earl J. Wilcox recently retired from Winthrop University. He has produced a notable body of work on Robert Frost, Jack London, and Robert Penn Warren, among others.
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