William Harvey Wilson – 50th Reunion Essay

William Harvey Wilson

Date of Death: 18-Oct-1999

College: Saybrook

(This memorial was submitted by Ben Jerman.)

It was my pleasure to room with Bill Wilson for four years at Yale and one summer in New York City. For three years we shared bunks in the same room of a two-bedroom suite, and only by senior year did we have separate rooms in a three-room suite.

In a walk to Commons for dinner during our first week, I found out that Bill was in three advanced classes: one in French, one in English, and one in something else. I was dumbfounded. This pudgy, effeminate roommate was a major brain. As it turns out, Bill had scored 800s on his SATs and on two Advanced Placement tests. That was almost unheard of in my world. Bill and I were completely comfortable with each other from the beginning. At dinner, on walks, in the room. Bill was not good at starting conversations, but he was always an energetic participant, usually in a funny and off-putting way. I played on this tendency and he gleefully responded.

As with all personalities, there was another side to Bill—as it turned out, Bill was gay. On a visit in New York City, I found Bill with a bandana covering his bald head, a result of AIDS treatment. At this point, he had to admit his problem. Bill filled in the gaps of his New York City life including drugs, late night clubs, and other counter-culture experiences. He once told me that if he had known that I had never tried cocaine, he would have insisted that I try it. He gave me an article he wrote for a Greenwich Village publication about how he contracted AIDS. One poignant description was about how he would be walking home from a Chelsea club at 5:30 am and stumble in front of the Chinese shop keepers, just opening for business—a contrast of lifestyles.

In spite of the trauma-induced lifestyle to which Bill was addicted, he managed to create an outstanding resumé of accomplishments as a writer. His most important success was a five-year endeavor to write a book with his lifelong friend Judy, An Incomplete Education. This book is a compendium of the most important academic knowledge expected of a college graduate, all in 600 pages. The book became a New York Times bestseller and supported Bill in his most trying years.

The last time I saw Bill, he was living in a spectacular Greenwich Village apartment with a two-story window wall overlooking NYU and the Empire State Building. Bill was in a wheelchair and let me guide him to the street level where we met a few of his friends for dinner at the Knickerbocker Restaurant on Washington Square. It was our last dinner there.

I miss Bill. He was like a brother: funny, loving, caring, sometimes critical and demanding, other times lazy and insouciant. For most of my post-Yale life, he was my only link to the experience. His spirit lives on!