Sunday, May 29, 2011

PUBLISHED: Walking on Glass: A Memoir of the Later Days of Tennessee Williams!!!

 Now for sale in the following Amazon.com stores:

For Amazon US (US Dollars) click HERE.

For Amazon UK (Pounds, Sterling) click HERE.

For Amazon DE (Euros) click HERE.

It was a tough birth, but the adventure will become my second book, and outsell MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL, and Dan Brown as well. (Can't wait to begin converting this blog into a book!!!)

Thanks to everyone -- ESPECIALLY those who gave me resistance, the Spiritual Gymnasium in which I developed my strength to complete this project. I could never have done it without you. That said, some may face civil and/or criminal consequences.

I added (in an edited-for-space way) the four reviews from the book's site to the Amazon sites, but they are currently being vetted by Amazon before being posted. Below is the content as edited (and includes Dr. Wright's original CAPITALIZATIONS):

REVIEWS:


John Lahr, The New Yorker
"I wasn't intending to read every word of your memoir; but it says something about how well you wrote it, that I did . . . you've found a very crisp and compelling style. And you come through vividly in it."

Thomas Keith: Editor of Tennessee Williams' books for New Directions Publishing

"Scott as done a beautiful job with his memoir. What makes it stand out from previous memoirs about Williams is its integrity, and the depth to which Scott reveals his own situation, mental health problems, fears, and hopes. Because of that integrity, the day-to-day descriptions of life with Williams and Scott's take on the tangle of problems Williams faced near the end of his life are that much more insightful. I also happen to like Scott's ability to describe a person or set a scene--even his thread of commentary on weather, light, and seasons informs us about the sensitivities of the man telling this story."

Dr. Kenneth Holditch: Williams scholar and Professor Emeritus at the University of New Orleans

"Having finished your manuscript, I am confirmed in my initial judgment that this is a very fine work indeed. Tennessee really comes alive in your narrative, as do other personages, a few of whom I knew. Let me be truthful and say that I put off reading your work because I have read so many–both published and in manuscript–that were handed to me and been much too often disappointed in what I read. That was not the case with your book. I found it spell-binding and raced on through it at the expense of my chores."

Dr. Larry Myers: Playwright/Associate Professor, St John's University/Williams Friend & Scholar

"Your book much seems channeled from some astral plane or higher consciousness. When I read it, HE IS HERE!"

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Suddenly, This Summer!!!


. . .  This earlier post has become the second most popular of all! This seems to have come up from nowhere. I'd forgotten all about this moldy oldie, but see I was correct when I reported it back then. It is still true today.

But, suddenly -- this summer -- I'm beginning to see improvement. AND I hope to make an announcement before the end of the day.

Now read it: TRUE AMERICAN EXCEPTIONALISM.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Dear Edmund,

We met at the Decatur, GA Book Festival about four years ago, when your book HOTEL DE DREAM had recently been released. I had worked for Tennessee Williams and we discussed that, and the fact that I was working on my memoir, www.walkingonglass.net . Later, you and I were both to have books released April 2010 by Alyson Books. When Don Weise told me he was bumping you from being the featured release so that I could be, and then I was afraid to ask you to write the forward.

I have been pacing the floor for over an hour tonight, after reading the article: http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/05/25/edmund.white.hiv.aids/index.html?hpt=C1 . I now vividly remember your presence, so I am loath to believe, now, having been reminded also of your service to humanity – but especially GBLT people – and your writing achievements, the things I have been afraid were true about your professional relationship with Don Weise over the years, as told to me by John Uecker, the man who was with Tennessee Williams the night he died, and who I am now certain without doubt murdered Tom, probably by smothering him with a pillow. Dakin and Dotson Rader were convinced of this too, and said so publicly. That might be why Dotson, reportedly the highest paid magazine writer at the time of Tom’s death, seemed to later disappear.

I will try to be brief now. Try. Uecker told me Weise had given you a $500,000.00 advance on a book for Carroll & Graf on a book you both knew would not be a commercial success, and in cahoots (for an unknown purpose) deliberately destroyed Carroll & Graf. But John Uecker is no friend of anyone sane or loving, and he certainly was no friend of Tennessee’s. MUCH misinformation and disinformation was fed to me, but the bottom line is that Alyson Books never had any intention of publishing my book, and planned all along to go belly up, specifically to prevent my Williams book from being published. I can prove in a court of law that this was conscious and deliberate on Don Weise’s part. (And this is why if you had been with Don, you were suspect too.)

Why? Because I know too much – not only about the truth of Tennessee Williams’ death and how Republicans bribed several to perjure themselves to claim he was incompetent when he added the codicil that Jackie Onassis insisted he had to write. I WAS THERE – at Jean Stein’s apartment with George Plimpton as co-host. Truman was there – uber-pickled. Warren Beattie. Others. But the meeting with Jackie was private. But as I refused to give up and insisted on moving forward to not let my book be destroyed and buried eternally, I found out so much more – more than can be believed by most people. And I have documented it in my blog: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com . Heavy politics begins about 1/1/10, a few weeks after I forced Alyson to cancel my contract. It is voluminous and repetitive – sometimes too dramatic, or almost hallucinatory. But I have straightened out nearly all of it now. The final pieces, perhaps you can help me with.

What do you know about Don’s exact plans with my book? Perhaps he hid his intentions from you, but I seem to remember warning you that something was up, and then your book disappeared from their ‘coming soon’ site long before mine (mine disappeared to MY and MY FRIENDS’ computers within a week after Alyson cancelled (about Jan. 17, 2010) but strangers – and I, when I used the ‘search this site’ function – still saw it listed as to be published in April for two more months. Yes.

When I delivered my final ms to Don, he told me it was extremely important that I erase all other drafts/versions from all my computers. I thought that odd and a symptom of his being overworked. I had no intention of doing it. But a few days later when I flew back to Stone Mountain, GA, I found EVERY file (there were LOTS due to many revisions over 5.5 years and 12 major drafts) of the book had been deleted or gutted ON ALL THREE COMPUTERS THAT I OWNED. Don had not looked at the photos I sent him and galleys were to be out mid-December. From mid-December, neither my agent nor I could get him to answer a single phone call or email for a month.

But now you are back with Don, your book listed here: http://www.magnusbooks.com/ . What’s up???

Please forgive me for copying this to my distant relatives whose Kenan branch founded UNC and later inherited Henry Flagler’s wealth. They are my top allies now, having connected me to 60 Minutes whose producer told me they intend to do at least two segments on my story when it becomes politically possible. Also, I am working with Harvard’s top lawyers to reverse the illegal voiding of BOTH the will and codicil of Tennessee Williams. Ernie is my top spiritual counselor – and I have given First Presbyterian in Wilmington, NC where I now live a slice of all royalties, although I actually studied in Science of Mind, deeply, for 25 years – quite close to your upbringing in Christian Science. Another coincidence is our both having been born in Cincinnati, although I’d bet your mother did not blackmail your father into marriage to hide swastikas behind his surname, run Proctor & Gamble’s Skin Research Labs continuing to work (can’t prove this – not yet, anyway) with Dr. Mengele’s experiments – possibly even developing the HIV virus.

Can you handle this? I’ve had no choice. Handle it or death – THAT has been my choice, and I am proud to say I HAVE ALREADY WON.

But I’m still seeking some answers, and if you read a bit, you might be able to help me. The truth about TW’s death is in yesterday’s blog post: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com/2011/05/finally-truth-about-tennessee-williams.html . Then info I sent to CNN a few days ago at their request: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-reply-to-cnns-request-for-info.html .

Please, Edmund, I MUST hear back a little from you within 48 hours. I’m so shell-shocked and because of frayed nerves, will publish this email on my blog if I have not heard from you SOMETHING, even if you need more time to write much. I mean no insult, but I’ve had it with waiting on people. Done. Over. Period.

That said in a tone I hate to use with someone I feel is not the monster I was led to believe you had somehow come to become.

My heart wishes you the best, and believes that you and I may be the two people alive who have witnessed the worst of what one could witness during the years of our lives. Writing this, I feel somehow quite comforted and less alone.

All best,
Scott

Cell: 910-431-6312 (I do not get voicemails, usually, and often it claims my number is not in service. Just try a few minutes later and it should work.)

Edmund: Forgive Me. I Had To Post Immediately.


Dear Edmund,

We met at the Decatur, GA Book Festival about four years ago, shortly after your book Hotel de Dream was released and you were on tour. I had worked for Tennessee Williams, and after your talk, you signed my copy of your book before we discussed Tennessee and the love we both share of the man and his work -- and the fact that I was working on a memoir of my experience working for him, www.walkingonglass.net .

Later, you and I were both to have books released April 2010 by Alyson Books. When Don Weise told me he was bumping you from being the featured release and that my Williams memoir would take that honored position, I was afraid to ask you to write the forward.

I have been pacing the floor for over an hour tonight, after reading the article: http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/05/25/edmund.white.hiv.aids/index.html?hpt=C1 . I now vividly remember your presence, so I am loath to believe, now, having been reminded also of your service to humanity – but especially GBLT people – and your writing achievements, the things I have been afraid were true about your professional relationship with Don Weise over the years, as told to me by John Uecker, the man who was with Tennessee Williams the night he died, and who I am now certain without doubt murdered Tom, probably by smothering him with a pillow. Dakin and Dotson Rader were convinced of this too -- and said so publicly. That might be why Dotson, reportedly the highest paid magazine writer at the time of Tom’s death, seemed to later disappear.

I will try to be brief now. Try. Uecker told me Weise had given you a $500,000.00 advance on a book for Carroll & Graf -- on a book you both knew would not be a commercial success, and in cahoots (for an unknown reason) deliberately destroyed Carroll & Graf. But John Uecker is no friend of anyone sane or loving, and he certainly was no friend of Tennessee’s. MUCH misinformation and disinformation was fed to me, but the bottom line is that Alyson Books never had any intention of publishing my book, and planned all along to go belly up, specifically to prevent my Williams book from being published. I can prove in a court of law that this was conscious and deliberate on Don Weise’s part. (And this is why if you had been with Don, you, too, were suspect.)

Why? Because I know too much – not only about the truth of Tennessee Williams’ death and how Republicans bribed several to perjure themselves to claim he was incompetent when he added the codicil that Jackie Onassis insisted he had to write. I WAS THERE – at Jean Stein’s apartment with George Plimpton as co-host. Truman was there – uber-pickled. Warren Beattie. Others. But the meeting with Jackie was private.

But as I refused to give up and insisted on moving forward to not let my book be destroyed and buried eternally, I found out so much more – more than can be believed by most people. And I have documented it in my blog: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com . Heavy politics begins about 1/1/10, a few weeks before I forced Alyson to cancel my contract. It is voluminous and repetitive – sometimes too dramatic, or almost hallucinatory. But I have straightened out nearly all of it now -- at least in my mind. The final pieces, perhaps you can help me with.

What do you know about Don’s exact plans with my book? Perhaps he hid his intentions from you, but I seem to remember warning you that something was up, and then your book disappeared from their ‘coming soon’ site long before mine (mine disappeared to MY and MY FRIENDS’ computers within a week after Alyson cancelled (about Jan. 17, 2010) but strangers – as well as I, when I used the ‘search this site’ function – still saw it listed as "to be published in April" for two more months. Yes.

When I delivered my final ms to Don, he told me it was extremely important that I erase all other drafts/versions from my computer. I thought that odd and a symptom of his being overworked. I had no intention of doing it. But a few days later when I flew back to Stone Mountain, GA, I found EVERY file (there were LOTS due to many revisions over 5.5 years and 12 major drafts) of the book had been deleted or gutted ON ALL THREE COMPUTERS THAT I OWNED.

Then, I discovered that Don had not even looked at the photos I sent him for inclusion -- and galleys were to be out mid-December. Beginning in mid-December, neither my agent nor I could get him to answer a single phone call or email for a month.

But now you are back with Don, your book listed here at his new publishing company: http://www.magnusbooks.com/ .

What’s up with THAT???

Please forgive me for copying this to my distant relatives whose branch of the Kenan family founded UNC and later inherited Henry Flagler’s wealth. They are my top allies now, having connected me to 60 MINUTES, whose producer (the most highly decorated female news producer ever, who had produced Walter Cronkite's CBS NEWS the last twelve years he anchored the program), told me she thought they would do at least TWO segments on my story when it becomes politically possible.

Also, I am working with Harvard’s top lawyers to reverse the illegal voiding of BOTH the will and codicil of Tennessee Williams. Ernie is my top spiritual counselor – and I have given First Presbyterian in Wilmington, NC where I now live a slice of all royalties, although I actually studied in Science of Mind, deeply, for 25 years – quite close to your upbringing in Christian Science. Another coincidence is our both having been born in Cincinnati, although I’d bet your mother did not blackmail your father into marriage to hide swastikas behind his surname, run Proctor & Gamble’s Skin Research Labs, continuing the work of (can’t prove this – not yet, anyway) Dr. Mengele’s experiments – possibly even developing the HIV virus.

Can you handle this? I’ve had no choice. Handle it or death – THAT has been my choice, and I am proud to say I HAVE ALREADY WON.

But I’m still seeking some answers, and if you read a bit, you might be able to help me. The truth about TW’s death is in yesterday’s blog post: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com/2011/05/finally-truth-about-tennessee-williams.html . Then info I sent to CNN a few days ago at their request: http://scottkenan.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-reply-to-cnns-request-for-info.html .

Please, Edmund, I MUST hear back a little from you within 48 hours. I’m so shell-shocked.

Because of frayed nerves, will publish this email on my blog if I have not heard from you SOMETHING, even if you need more time to write much. I mean no insult, but I’ve had it with waiting on people. Done. Over. Period.

That said in a tone I hate to use with someone I feel is not the monster I was led to believe you had somehow come to become.

My heart wishes you the best, and believes that you and I may be the two people alive who have witnessed the worst of what one could witness during the years of our lives. Writing this, I feel somehow quite comforted and less alone.

All best,
Scott

Cell: 910-XXX-XXXX (I do not get voicemails, usually, and often it claims my number is not in service. Just try a few minutes later and it should work.)

.

Where's My Trial???



Hi Emily,

It’s been quite a while since we’ve directly communicated, but I did feel a somewhat urgent need to ask you when-oh-when has my little trial gone, oh when-oh-when will it beeeee??? I mean last I heard from you about this (and I KNOW you are not in charge of scheduling), it was mid-April and you said we’d get a date assigned in May for June. There are only three business days left in May, and in MY experience, not much happens around a holiday (actually, this would have been an IDEAL time to have it to preclude too many people witnessing the thing – as the original trial managed to achieve so effectively).

I do hope the problem is not with judges recusing themselves in droves, like those who knew David Nash did last time. If any of them read my blog, they all know by now that anyone who has a four-year college or university degree, had it paid for directly or indirectly (to varying degrees) by my distant Kenan relatives – especially here in NC. Even those at small schools or for-profit ones had teachers likely trained in part on the Kenan dime. Well, that woman I had before I was assigned you might work. She showed no evidence of education, had to be PROVEN that Kenans don’t ALL have “two or three trust funds they can get money from,” and gets quite jiggy due to box-wine alcohol-withdrawal starting about 10:30 AM (so her neighbors have explained it to me – I wouldn’t know).

Rebecca.W. Blackmore – that’s her name. If she had enough advance notice to wash her hair that week and someone hid one of those sports bottles under her robe with a feeding tube discretely positioned at her collar, she might do just fine! I hear-tell she’s TOUGH on drunk drivers though. Wish she’d put whoever keeps hitting Kenan Memorial Fountain and breaking off those HUGE chunks of granite, concrete, or whatever it is, off it, in jail – for permanent. I guess they do EVENTUALLY repair it. The Fountain and its surround all SEEM to be there, although the latest refrigerator-sized chunks have been lying around for weeks now – just sitting on the ground. Good thing Tommy and his kin don’t take this treatment personally!!!

I hear the town drunks and druggies have been hitting the thing for decades – that things have been so bad they shaved down Kenan Plaza TWICE over the decades so drivers wouldn’t have to exert themselves to turn their steering wheels as far to maneuver. I DO like those new green and white signs they put up announcing it as “Kenan Plaza” on all sides, although I’d rather they were in a more ‘period’ style. I think those went up and the fountain-water was turned back on about the time I arrived in town. Made me feel MOST welcome (despite the fact you have to go to 1700 to make my blood connections with those Kenans).

Maybe they could put up automated breathalyzer stations that give a token if you pass (good for no longer than three minutes) that you drop at automated gates a block or two back from the Fountain to be allowed to try to drive around it without crashing INTO it. Poor lawyers would get so lost having to drive entirely new routes to work to avoid the alcohol test – I guess that would screw up the whole Justice System here.

Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little entertainment (with embedded seriousnesses in it) that I wrote to relax you if they’ve bedeviled you anything like they have me. I’ve ALWAYS known you and I are the TEAM, regardless who signs your check – though I dare say I may have made more progress toward that Honorary LLD from Harvard I’m buckin’ for (a TEE-VEE Comedy Special with Stephen Colbert, John Stewart, or Donald Trump -- with my height, I could give first-person, birds-eye view commentary of what’s goin’ ON in that hair -- would do in a pinch, however). For the record, the guy with the Hand Painted Houses logo on his pick-up truck who the neighbors claim is the biggest drug dealer around (you can tell ‘em by their ‘Zen’ porches – Buddhist prayer flags, perfect restorations and yards, I’m told), is STILL making his deliveries, but has put a couple extension ladders in the back of his truck to appear more authentic. LOL!!!

The crack lab in the other half of my shotgun-duplex was moved off premises a week ago, and Jess and Peter have become right friendly – which presents new problems, given my penchant for hot, Italian bears! The gay boys who teach at UNCW (at least one of them) in the mulberry house next door are never around since I first blogged about them, so no more ‘speed-dating’/medication-assistance -- or whatever it was the shorter one was doing all day while the other was apparently at work.

Don’t tell me bloggin’ isn’t a Public Service if Criminal Justice System is in pockets of narco-trafficking Mafia Thugs. LOL!!!

Perhaps you can work something out with the D.A., Mr. Nash, and whomever else to somehow legally keep us from going back to court. As long as I’m found NOT GUILTY, I don’t care how it’s engineered. I DO think the constitutional dismissal is both appropriate and best, although I certainly never violated the law and that will be easy to prove if necessary. Not our problem about how David Nash perjured himself on minor points while John Mann perjured himself by claiming he never told me the stories I retold about David’s alleged sexual activities and association with Drug Mafia. Again, all things considered, I’ve changed my mind and am NO LONGER CERTAIN John was telling ME the truth: Look how he lied about that UNDER OATH!!!

When I was thrown out of Costello’s Piano Bar on Princess St. for no reason and everyone was lying to me, it was no wonder I got so confused! I think I have a good understanding of things now and can testify with confidence.

I’d just hate it if a bunch of press showed up in court – which a little birdie has claimed in my ear. No telling how they got wind of things.

Let’s just be merciful and work out the solution that’s easiest for all, n'est–ce pas?

Cheers! –and relax with a Coke (a Cola) this weekend (profits support university education, sports, arts, youth programs, etc. – if ya get my meanin’, if ya get my drift . . .)
Scott

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Finally: The Truth about Tennessee Williams' Death, and the Disposal of His Will and Its Codicil


I BEGIN WITH A 'FACTOID': 1983 -- Playwright Tennessee Williams dies, age 71, in New York, after swallowing the cap of a small plastic bottle. New York newsman Storm Field calls him "Tennessee Ernie Williams."

* * *

From Walking on Glass: A Memoir of the Later Days of Tennessee Williams, (c) 2011, Scott D. Kenan, soon to be available in electronic formats through amazon.com and others:

>>> LATER: WALKING ON GLASS is NOW available electronic (check Amazon to see if paper is available yet) HERE.

Several people have told me that AMAZON DID NOT ALLOW THEM TO POST REVIEWS, although I believe as of 1/20/12 I have gotten that problem resolved, so you should have no problems should you try to do so.

>>> IF YOU HAVE READ THE SAMPLE BELOW (or the free one available through Amazon) -- or this blog to any extent (although I don't always bother to polish the blog), you will have a good idea of my ability to write.


In January 2012, I reduced the price to only $4.95 as I ONLY (mostly) WANT TO BE READ.

Thanks,
Scott


>>> January 26, 2012: Having just discovered that THIS posting is one of the most popular -- even now -- and that I had NOT updated it with the actual FINAL ending of WALKING ON GLASS which was published electronically on Amazon.com some months ago, I am ADDING that ending here in purple, and LEAVING the old as well (below it in black) so that anyone who wishes to can compare them.

ADDED TO MANUSCRIPT BY JOHN UECKER (AT THOMAS KEITH’S URGING): The coroner, Elliot Gross, on the scene the morning of Tennessee Williams’ death, determined that Tennessee’s body may have become intolerant of the drugs he had used throughout his life, and in the end they had simply overwhelmed his system. Tennessee’s health had declined, and during his last year, he had lost a lot of weight. A medicine bottle top such as the type used in eye drops was not found in his air passage as reported, and in any case, as Gross later acknowledged, would not have been large enough to restrict airflow. Gross was certain that the event that had caused Tennessee’s death was inadvertent.
He filed a false report stating that the playwright had died by choking on a medicine bottle top. He had surmised that if the press, clamoring loudly outside the hotel, heard that any drug had been part of the cause of death, they would report it as an overdose or suicide—an unjust verdict—but one that would live in the mind of the public forever.
Six months later, after the hubbub died down, Gross quietly corrected his report. 1 The legacy Gross left is that for all these years, most, like myself, erroneously believed Williams died by choking.

The true cause of Tennessee Williams’ death is still not known. His brother, Dakin, and Tennessee’s friend Dotson Rader both claimed that John Uecker had murdered Tennessee, probably by smothering him with a pillow. Noted Williams scholar Allean Hale of the University of Illinois spent two summers researching, trying to find out the real cause of death, but told me that despite being given piles of documents to look at, she was ultimately stonewalled. John Uecker told me the he had given the coroner the idea of choking as the cause, and John also claimed to me that he eventually deduced that Tennessee’s death was from intolerance to a drug the playwright had used most of his adult life—and had never had a symptom of problems with. I do not believe him.
In his will, Tennessee Williams left the bulk of his estate, including the copyrights, in a trust for the care of his sister Rose. After her death, ownership was to go to the University of the South (commonly referred to as Sewanee), a small college in Tennessee. He left the bequest in honor of his beloved maternal grandfather, Walter Dakin, who had received his divinity degree there in 1895. Administration of the estate, including permissions to produce his plays, to use quotations from his work, and to access his papers, was to be split among an administrator from Sewanee, one from Harvard, and a third one appointed by the other two.
However, in late 1982, at the urging of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who had first suggested it at the party Jean Stein and George Plimpton had thrown in January of that year, Tennessee added a codicil to his will. Now, Harvard, instead of Sewanee, was to receive his papers. While the codicil specified that Sewanee was still to keep actual ownership of the bulk of the estate, it charged Harvard with making all decisions concerning the use of the intellectual property rights as well as the financial proceeds of the bequest. Tennessee further stipulated that the bulk of the proceeds should form a fund to support creative writers, specifically clarifying that it should be used to support writing of a “progressive, original and preferentially of an experimental nature.” 2
Tennessee’s groundbreaking plays had been exactly that: progressive, original, and experimental, and anyone studying his later plays knows what he meant by that description when he wrote the codicil. In the course of his career, he had continually broken taboos as he unflinchingly explored the deepest regions of the human heart. As a result, he often battled censors and self-appointed guardians of public morality. In the last few years of his life, Reaganism came to full flower and Evangelical Christianity was surging, its adherents demanding that the nation’s laws—even its Constitution—bow to the Bible. Many Christian leaders proclaimed that AIDS was God’s righteous punishment of gay men—and they thanked God for that. Few politicians dared denounce them.
Tennessee’s fear that his plays would be sanitized after his death no longer seemed so paranoid. In the context of this national trend, it seemed eminently sane that he followed Jackie Onassis’s advice and shifted major responsibilities to Harvard, rather than a small religious university in the South.
Not surprisingly, the codicil was contested. An agreement was reached. As the dust cleared, Maria St. Just emerged as the de facto manager of the rights, and she anointed herself guardian of Tennessee’s legacy. In an attempt to suppress knowledge of the aspects of Tennessee’s life that she found unsavory (she reportedly had destroyed many of his letters to her before publishing the rest), and to shape his image and the world’s understanding of his work to conform to her view, she refused to allow most scholars access to his papers and she micro-managed the major productions of his plays that she allowed. As a result, the most produced English language playwright since William Shakespeare dropped under the radar—many of his plays going unproduced and his papers rarely studied—until after Maria’s death in early 1994. 3
Following the death of Rose Williams, the trust that had been set up to insure her care, including ownership of the rights and funds, went to The University of the South. The estate—valued at $10 million at the time of Williams’ death 2—was the largest bequest the school had received to that time, and Maria St. Just’s and Sewanee’s management of the estate had increased its value more than ten-fold. In 2009, alumni lawyers who had become disgruntled with the school’s reforms confirmed to me that the estate’s value had grown to at least $1/3 billion, and much of the proceeds, they alleged, were being used to hide the recent loss of financial support of the college by alumni.
Based at Sewanee, the Walter E. Dakin Memorial Fund was used (in 1998), to build the 150-seat Tennessee Williams Performing Arts Center on the Sewanee campus. Today, the Fund supports the Sewanee Writers’ Conference (tuition: $1,000.00 + $700.00 room and board) and Young Writers’ Camp (tuition: $700.0 - $1,000.00 per week). It also supports a visiting writers series of lectures on campus.
Whether the codicil to Tennessee’s will stood or not was a moot point for Leoncia McGee, even though in it he had added that she be paid a stipend until her death—something he’d forgotten to include in the original will. Under Florida law, the fact that she had witnessed the codicil prevented her from receiving the stipend he had granted in it. Maria St. Just stepped up to the plate, and Leoncia received an income until her death in 1992.
Several months after Tennessee’s death, Gary Tucker and Schuyler Wyatt moved to Atlanta and Gary worked as a deejay in a leather bar. They lived a stone’s throw from the Alliance Theatre in a Victorian mansion on Peachtree Street, rent-free. Their parties became legendary. I occasionally ran into them, but turned down their party invitations.
After Gary’s death from AIDS in 1989, Skye moved to Chattanooga and worked for a caterer. He visited Atlanta occasionally, and when I ran across him, he bought rounds of drinks in the bars. He bragged about his lavish lifestyle in Tennessee, which he claimed was paid for by a prominent Republican in the Tennessee State Legislature—without trade for sex. He died from AIDS in 1992.
In the fall of 2009, John Uecker told me that Skye had told him, also, that the money that supported his luxurious condominium and lifestyle in Chattanooga came from a “high-placed” Republican legislator in Tennessee.
Helen Chuba returned to her trailer and her husband in Homestead.
Vassilis Voglis died from AIDS in 1990.
Edmund J. Perret II went on to become the Executive Director of the Contact Lens Association of Ophthalmologists, was very active in the Catholic Church, and sat on the boards of several national charities. He died in 1991 from a long, but unspecified, illness.
Rose Williams died of cardiac arrest in 1996 at the age of 86.
Jane Smith died of natural causes in 2005.
Bruce Smith continued to run a public relations firm in Chicago.
“Texas” Kate Moldawer married a physician, was widowed several years later, and then died of cancer in 2007. A copy of an early draft of this manuscript was found front and center on her desk.
After Tennessee’s death, John Uecker, who had occasionally served as Tennessee’s traveling companion both before and after I worked for Tennessee, became James Purdy’s literary assistant, which he remained until Purdy’s death in 2009.
Mark Beard developed six distinct artist personalities so that he could paint in as many different styles. Today, his work is in the collections of major art museums around the world. Abercrombie & Fitch commissioned him to paint murals on their flagship stores, and in 2009, he completed an eleven-story mural on their Tokyo store. Mark has won awards for his set designs as well.
Robert Carroll lives in West Virginia.
The whereabouts of Filippo and Matthew are unknown.
Searching the internet in 2007, I discovered that Jeanne Wolf released the documentary film, The Donsinger Women and Their Handyman Jack in 1983. It won an award in San Francisco. The short story remains unpublished.
André Ernotte continued directing on the American stage and won the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Director of a Musical three times before he died of heart failure in 1999.
After leaving the Goodman Theatre, Gregory Mosher produced or directed over 200 plays on stages in America and abroad, and won every major American theater award, including two Tonys and a Drama Desk Special Award. He is now the Director of the University Arts Initiative at Columbia University.
I remained in Atlanta and worked in restaurant management until 1990, when I suffered a second, more severe bout of mania. I was arrested that time too, but due to new laws meant to protect the rights of the mentally ill, the judge (although she stated her belief that I should be committed), seemed afraid to do so. Over a six-month period, I spent a total of 14 weeks in jail. After my final release, I dedicated myself to finding the truth about my mental health, life, and experience. I stabilized on Lithium, found work in sales, and then one day late in 2003, I decided I would have to trust myself.
I had a story to write.
In the course of coming to terms with bipolar illness, I had learned the truth of what Tennessee said that day he rebuked me, “Never support anyone’s delusions. It’s the cruelest thing you could do.” My suggestion at the time had been to play coronation anthems for his sister Rose who thought she was the Queen of England. It is easy to point out delusions in others, but it is our pernicious day-to-day delusions that lead to our private insanities. Only in staring down my own delusions was I able to find my grounding and the clarity to write this book.
I also came to understand that Tennessee had reached a place of transcendence. He had spent his lifetime wrestling demons, and in the process pulled Blanche Dubois, Stanley Kowalski, Alexandra del Lago, Lady Torrance, the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon, and all his other characters from within. He thrust them onto the public stage for our contemplation. Although his characters—aspects of himself—collide, compete, win, lose, and survive (or not) within their worlds, the greater thing within him, the über-thing that fueled Tennessee, the man John Patrick Shanley called “that gorgeous, unstoppable beast,” could not be—and never was—harmed. As I watched him watching his work unfold upon the stage, he allowed that greater part of himself—that thing that always drove him onward—to possess his conscious being, and then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed.
In November of 2009, I finished (with the help of John Uecker and the edits of Thomas Keith) what I expected to be the final manuscript and delivered it to Don Weise of Alyson Books. Earlier that month, I traveled to New York City for Tennessee’s installation in the American Poets’ Corner in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. On that Thursday evening, people from all walks of life gathered in the soaring gothic cavern. Marian Seldes, Eli Wallach, Vanessa Redgrave, and many others performed or read Tennessee’s work. John Patrick Shanley delivered his electrifying address. Three days later, Tennessee’s stone was formally unveiled at Sunday Evensong service. Many fewer attended the quiet event; I was back in Georgia. The movie critic John DiLeo wrote me later that he, too, missed the service, but he did see the stone, “and it is beautifully placed, as if the poets surrounding him are mere supporting players.”
These words are inscribed on the face of Tennessee’s stone in the Cathedral:
Time is the longest distance between two places.
And on Tennessee’s tombstone in St. Louis:
The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.

In late January 2010, Alyson Books cancelled my publishing contract after I pressured them to pay me the first $3,000.00 of my advance that had been overdue since the day after signing the contract the previous August. They told me (by phone) that they would ensure my memoir was never published, although in the cancellation email, they had wished me well.
They failed to publish any of the thirty books they scheduled for spring 2010 release.

1. Baden, Michael M. 1989. Unnatural Death, New York: Random House, 1989. pp. 73-74.
2. Lindsey Gruson. March 22, 1983. “Harvard to Direct Williams Bequest” The New York Times, http://www.nytimes.com/books/00/12/31/specials/williams-harvard.html.
3. Lahr, John. December 19, 1994. “The Lady and Tennessee” The New Yorker, http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1994/12/19/1994_12_19_076_TNY_CARDS_000370469 , pp. 76-97.

 


Acknowledgments

In the lean early days when the greatest treat we knew was Dream Whip from a box, my parents drove us to the public library every week. When I turned five, there was no kindergarten, so my mother opened one in our living room. As a family, we attended every free Louisville Orchestra concert and went to hear President Kennedy speak. Later, things became more complicated, but my parents’ love and commitment in those earlier years is the foundation on which I stand.
First, I want to thank all the members of the writers’ group at the Spiritual Living Center of Atlanta. They provided important feedback as I wrote the first two drafts of Walking on Glass. Special thanks to Ken Wilcox, the founder of the group, and to sustaining members Kirsten Haas, Richard Allison, and the fabulous Diamond Lil.
After I had completed only one chapter, John Mackey’s blunt criticism of my writing skills caused me to read every book on the subject I could find. I followed his advice on form as I shaped the book. Later, he introduced me to Cynthia Zigmund, who was my agent until Alyson cancelled the contract. There is no way I can adequately thank either of them. Cindy was a tireless advocate and negotiator, as well as hand-holder when I was discouraged when things became complicated with Alyson Books.
Rich Merritt heard about my project and sought me out while I worked on my second draft. His first book, the courageous memoir, Secrets of a Gay Marine Porn Star, was about to be released. The enthusiastic encouragement of a serious writer, lawyer, and patriot was huge for me. Semper Fi, Captain!
If there is an advocate for Sewanee’s rights attorney at the center of all things Tennessee Williams—and there is—it is Thomas Keith. Editor of many of Williams’ books, speaker at, and supporter of, Williams festivals (as well as others), Thomas has been generous with advice since I first met him in 2005. (Thomas, however, no longer answers my calls or emails.) It was Thomas who connected me with the publisher who failed to publish this book in 2010, Don Weise of Alyson Books.
It seemed such a privilege to work with Don. His immediate excitement for the book, respect for it, and care in the shepherding of it had me in deep gratitude. But the contract was cancelled.
Michael Fusco designed the perfect cover, and since he was not paid by Alyson either, I have been able to make arrangements with him to use it.
Few other people alive today have had the privilege of spending a significant amount of time in the day-to-day presence of Tennessee Williams—except John Uecker. And only they could really understand what a gift that continues to be. We had no contact from 1982 until 2009. And then after a period of renewed friendship, John broke off contact with me in January, 2010, claiming that something I had published on my blog, “The Weather Up Here” http://scottkenan.blogspot.com, caused him to lose the right to edit one of Tennessee Williams’ plays.
Mary Kritz offered weekly encouragement as I volunteered beside her in the bookstore at the Spiritual Living Center of Atlanta, and she delivered me to Phyllis Mueller who edited the fifth draft, shaping it and relieving the manuscript of my writing errors. Williams scholar Allean Hale gave early encouragement, and filled my mind with questions. Writer and blogger Hollis Gillespie bragged about me to important ears—and taught me to blog as well.
John Bolinger and Nancy Babcock gave invaluable chapter-by-chapter criticism during the year and a half I spent on the first draft. As I continued, many friends critiqued at least part of it. Many gave other support in ways they may or may not realize. All of you are greatly appreciated: Pam Agababian, Janee Barrett, Mark Beard, Bill Copeland, Kimberly Craft, Bob Davis, Allison Dowd, Julie Kenan Duffy, Lissa Dulany, Gerry Flynn, Tom Hambrick, Phillip Hardigree, Sue Hobbs, Chuck Hyde, Jane Kenan, Mike Kenan, Marc LaFont, Gavin Lambert, Alex Whiddon, Dan Lotten, Jeff Lux, Patricia McKelvey, Joel Miller, Gregory Mosher, Steve Oden, Steve Poynter, Chuck Pritchard, Kelly Ray, Paul Robinson, Hilary Russell, Patrick Stansbury, Mary Wyatt, and Susan Zoller. I apologize to anyone I have left out here. So many people helped in various ways and I am grateful to you all.
Finally, there is Tennessee. I thought the writing of this book would be my gift to him—but it has been his gift to me.


* * *
>>> SEE IMPORTANT MATERIAL ADDED 5/24/11, 7:37 PM (emboldened, near bottom of post).

ADDED TO MANUSCRIPT BY JOHN UECKER (AT THOMAS KEITH’S URGING): The coroner, Elliot Gross, on the scene the morning of Tennessee Williams’ death, determined that Tennessee’s body may have become intolerant of the drugs he had used throughout his life, and in the end they had simply overwhelmed his system. Tennessee’s health had declined, and during his last year, he had lost a lot of weight. A medicine bottle top such as the type used in eye drops was not found in his air passage as reported, and in any case, as Gross later acknowledged, would not have been large enough to restrict airflow. Gross was certain that the event that had caused Tennessee’s death was inadvertent.
He filed a false report stating that the playwright had died by choking on a medicine bottle top. He had surmised that if the press, clamoring loudly outside the hotel, heard that any drug had been part of the cause of death, they would report it as an overdose or suicide—an unjust verdict—but one that would live in the mind of the public forever.
Six months later, after the hubbub died down, Gross quietly corrected his report. 1 The legacy Gross left is that for all these years, most, like myself, erroneously believed Williams died by choking. 

* * *

The true cause of Tennessee Williams’ death is still not known. His brother, Dakin, and Tennessee’s friend Dotson Rader both claimed that John Uecker had murdered Tennessee, probably by smothering him with a pillow. Noted Williams scholar Allean Hale of the University of Illinois spent two summers researching, trying to find out the real cause of death, but told me that despite being given piles of documents to look at, she was ultimately stonewalled. John Uecker told me the he had given the coroner the idea of choking as the cause, and John also claimed to me that he eventually deduced that Tennessee’s death was from intolerance to a drug the playwright had used most of his adult life—and had never had a symptom of problems with. I do not believe him.
In his will, Tennessee Williams left the bulk of his estate, including the copyrights, in a trust for the care of his sister Rose. After her death, ownership was to go to the University of the South (commonly referred to as Sewanee), a small college in Tennessee. He left the bequest in honor of his beloved maternal grandfather, Walter Dakin, who had received his divinity degree there in 1895. Administration of the estate, including permissions to produce his plays, to use quotations from his work, and to access his papers, was to be split among an administrator from Sewanee, one from Harvard, and a third one appointed by the other two.
However, in late 1982, at the urging of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who had first suggested it at the party Jean Stein and George Plimpton had thrown in January of that year, Tennessee added a codicil to his will. Now, Harvard, instead of Sewanee, was to receive his papers. While the codicil specified that Sewanee was still to keep actual ownership of the bulk of the estate, it charged Harvard with making all decisions concerning the use of the intellectual property rights as well as the financial proceeds of the bequest. Tennessee further stipulated that the bulk of the proceeds should form a fund to support creative writers, specifically clarifying that it should be used to support writing of a “progressive, original and preferentially of an experimental nature.” 2
Tennessee’s groundbreaking plays had been exactly that: progressive, original, and experimental, and anyone studying his later plays knows what he meant by that description when he wrote the codicil. In the course of his career, he had continually broken taboos as he unflinchingly explored the deepest regions of the human heart. As a result, he often battled censors and self-appointed guardians of public morality. In the last few years of his life, Reaganism came to full flower and Evangelical Christianity was surging, its adherents demanding that the nation’s laws—even its Constitution—bow to the Bible. Many Christian leaders proclaimed that AIDS was God’s righteous punishment of gay men—and they thanked God for that. Few politicians dared denounce them.
Tennessee’s fear that his plays would be sanitized after his death no longer seemed so paranoid. In the context of this national trend, it seemed eminently sane that he followed Jackie Onassis’s advice and shifted major responsibilities to Harvard, rather than a small religious university in the South.
Not surprisingly, the codicil was contested. An agreement was reached. As the dust cleared, Maria St. Just emerged as the de facto manager of the rights, and she anointed herself guardian of Tennessee’s legacy. In an attempt to suppress knowledge of the aspects of Tennessee’s life that she found unsavory (she reportedly had destroyed many of his letters to her before publishing the rest), and to shape his image and the world’s understanding of his work to conform to her view, she refused to allow most scholars access to his papers and she micro-managed the major productions of his plays that she allowed. As a result, the most produced English language playwright since William Shakespeare dropped under the radar—many of his plays going unproduced and his papers rarely studied—until after Maria’s death in early 1994. 3
Following the death of Rose Williams, the trust that had been set up to insure her care, including ownership of the rights and funds, went to The University of the South. The estate—valued at $10 million at the time of Williams’ death 2—was the largest bequest the school had received to that time, and Maria St. Justs’ and Sewanee’s management of the estate had increased its value more than ten-fold. In 2009, alumni lawyers who had become disgruntled with the school’s reforms confirmed to me that the estate’s value had grown to at least $1/3 billion, and much of the proceeds, they alleged, were being used to hide the recent loss of financial support of the college by alumni.
 Based at Sewanee, the Walter E. Dakin Memorial Fund was used (in 1998), to build the 150-seat Tennessee Williams Performing Arts Center on the Sewanee campus. Today, the Fund supports the Sewanee Writers’ Conference (tuition: $1,000.00 + $700.00 room and board) and Young Writers’ Camp (tuition: $700.0 - $1,000.00 per week). It also supports a visiting writers series of lectures on campus.
Whether the codicil to Tennessee’s will stood or not was a moot point for Leoncia McGee, even though in it he had added that she be paid a stipend until her death—something he’d forgotten to include in the original will. Under Florida law, the fact that she had witnessed the codicil prevented her from receiving the stipend he had granted in it. Maria St. Just stepped up to the plate, and Leoncia received an income until her death in 1992.
Several months after Tennessee’s death, Gary Tucker and Schuyler Wyatt moved to Atlanta and Gary worked as a deejay in a leather bar. They lived a stone’s throw from the Alliance Theatre in a Victorian mansion on Peachtree Street, rent-free. Their parties became legendary. I occasionally ran into them, but turned down their party invitations.
After Gary’s death from AIDS in 1989, Skye moved to Chattanooga and worked for a caterer. He visited Atlanta occasionally, and when I ran across him, he bought rounds of drinks in the bars. He bragged about his lavish lifestyle in Tennessee, which he claimed was paid for by a prominent Republican in the Tennessee State Legislature—without trade for sex. He died from AIDS in 1992.
In the fall of 2009, John Uecker told me that Skye had told him, also, that the money that supported his luxurious condominium and lifestyle in Chattanooga came from a “high-placed” Republican legislator in Tennessee.
Helen Chuba returned to her trailer and her husband in Homestead.
Vassilis Voglis died from AIDS in 1990.
Edmund J. Perret II went on to become the Executive Director of the Contact Lens Association of Ophthalmologists, was very active in the Catholic Church, and sat on the boards of several national charities. He died in 1991 from a long, but unspecified, illness.
Rose Williams died of cardiac arrest in 1996 at the age of 86.
Jane Smith died of natural causes in 2005.
Bruce Smith continued to run a public relations firm in Chicago.
“Texas” Kate Moldawer married a physician, was widowed several years later, and then died of cancer in 2007. A copy of an early draft of this manuscript was found front and center on her desk.
After Tennessee’s death, John Uecker, who had occasionally served as Tennessee’s traveling companion both before and after I worked for Tennessee, became James Purdy’s literary assistant, which he remained until Purdy’s death in 2009.
Mark Beard developed six distinct artist personalities so that he could paint in as many different styles. Today, his work is in the collections of major art museums around the world. Abercrombie & Fitch commissioned him to paint murals on their flagship stores, and in 2009, he completed an eleven-story mural on their Tokyo store--the world's largest oil-on-canvas painting. "The folks at Abercrombie are my Medicis," Mark told me at his Manhattan studio Christmas party, December 2009. Mark has won awards for his set designs as well.
Robert Carroll lives in West Virginia.
The whereabouts of Filippo and Matthew are unknown.
Searching the internet in 2007, I discovered that Jeanne Wolf released the documentary film, The Donsinger Women and Their Handyman Jack in 1983. It won an award in San Francisco. The short story remains unpublished.
André Ernotte continued directing on the American stage and won the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Director of a Musical three times before he died of heart failure in 1999.
After leaving the Goodman Theatre, Gregory Mosher produced or directed over 200 plays on stages in America and abroad, and won every major American theater award, including two Tonys and a Drama Desk Special Award. He is now the Director of the University Arts Initiative at Columbia University.
I remained in Atlanta and worked in restaurant management until 1990, when I suffered a second, more severe bout of mania. I was arrested that time too, but due to new laws meant to protect the rights of the mentally ill, the judge (although she stated her belief that I should be committed), seemed afraid to do so. Over a six-month period, I spent a total of 14 weeks in jail. After my final release, I dedicated myself to finding the truth about my mental health, life, and experience. I stabilized on Lithium, found work in sales, and then one day late in 2003, I decided I would have to trust myself. I had a story to write.
In the course of coming to terms with bipolar illness, I had learned the truth of what Tennessee said that day he rebuked me, “Never support anyone’s delusions. It’s the cruelest thing you could do.” My suggestion at the time had been to play coronation anthems for his sister Rose who thought she was the Queen of England. It is easy to point out delusions in others, but it is our pernicious day-to-day delusions that lead to our private insanities. Only in staring down my own delusions was I able to find my grounding and the clarity to write this book.
I also came to understand that Tennessee had reached a place of transcendence. He had spent his lifetime wrestling demons, and in the process pulled Blanche Dubois, Stanley Kowalski, Alexandra del Lago, Lady Torrance, the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon, and all his other characters from within. He thrust them onto the public stage for our contemplation. Although his characters—aspects of himself—collide, compete, win, lose, and survive (or not) within their worlds, the greater thing within him, the über-thing that fueled Tennessee, the man John Patrick Shanley called “that gorgeous, unstoppable beast,” could not be—and never was—harmed. As I watched him watching his work unfold upon the stage, he allowed that greater part of himself—that thing that always drove him onward—to possess his conscious being, and then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed.
In November of 2009, I finished (with the help of John Uecker and the edits of Thomas Keith) what I expected to be the final manuscript and delivered it to Don Weise of Alyson Books. Earlier that month, I traveled to New York City for Tennessee’s installation in the American Poets’ Corner in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. On that Thursday evening, people from all walks of life gathered in the soaring gothic cavern. Marian Seldes, Eli Wallach, Vanessa Redgrave, and many others performed or read Tennessee’s work. John Patrick Shanley delivered his electrifying address. Three days later, Tennessee’s stone was formally unveiled at Sunday Evensong service. Many fewer attended the quiet event; I was back in Georgia. The movie critic John DiLeo wrote me later that he, too, missed the service, but he did see the stone, “and it is beautifully placed, as if the poets surrounding him are mere supporting players.” 
These words are inscribed on the face of Tennessee’s stone in the Cathedral:

Time is the longest distance between two places.

And on Tennessee’s tombstone in St. Louis:

The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.

            In late January 2010, Alyson Books cancelled my publishing contract after I pressured them to pay me the first $3,000.00 of my advance that had been overdue since the day after signing the contract the previous August. They told me (by phone) that they would ensure my memoir was never published, although in the cancellation email, they had wished me well.
They failed to publish any of the thirty books they scheduled for spring 2010 release.

1. Baden, Michael M. 1989. Unnatural Death, New York: Random House, 1989. pp. 73-74.
2. Lindsey Gruson. March 22, 1983. “Harvard to Direct Williams Bequest” The New York Times,  http://www.nytimes.com/books/00/12/31/specials/williams-harvard.html.
3. Lahr, John. December 19, 1994. “The Lady and Tennessee” The New Yorker, http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1994/12/19/1994_12_19_076_TNY_CARDS_000370469 , pp. 76-97.


 

Acknowledgments

In the lean early days when the greatest treat we knew was Dream Whip from a box, my parents drove us to the public library every week. When I turned five, there was no kindergarten, so my mother opened one in our living room. As a family, we attended every free Louisville Orchestra concert and went to hear President Kennedy speak. Later, things became more complicated, but my parents’ love and commitment in those earlier years is the foundation on which I stand.
 First, I want to thank all the members of the writers’ group at the Spiritual Living Center of Atlanta. They provided important feedback as I wrote the first two drafts of Walking on Glass. Special thanks to Ken Wilcox, the founder of the group, and to sustaining members Kirsten Haas, Richard Allison, and the fabulous Diamond Lil.
After I had completed only one chapter, John Mackey’s blunt criticism of my writing skills caused me to read every book on the subject I could find. I followed his advice on form as I shaped the book. Later, he introduced me to Cynthia Zigmund, who was my agent until Alyson cancelled the contract. There is no way I can adequately thank either of them. Cindy was a tireless advocate and negotiator, as well as hand-holder when I was discouraged when things became complicated with Alyson Books.
Rich Merritt heard about my project and sought me out while I worked on my second draft. His first book, the courageous memoir, Secrets of a Gay Marine Porn Star, was about to be released. The enthusiastic encouragement of a serious writer, lawyer, and patriot was huge for me. Semper Fi, Captain!
If there is an advocate for Sewanee’s rights attorney at the center of all things Tennessee Williams—and there is—it is Thomas Keith. Editor of many of Williams’ books, speaker at, and supporter of, Williams festivals (as well as others), Thomas has been generous with advice since I first met him in 2005. (Thomas, however, no longer answers my calls or emails.) It was Thomas who connected me with the publisher who failed to publish this book in 2010, Don Weise of Alyson Books.
It seemed such a privilege to work with Don. His immediate excitement for the book, respect for it, and care in the shepherding of it had me in deep gratitude. But the contract was cancelled.
Michael Fusco designed the perfect cover, and since he was not paid by Alyson either, I have been able to make arrangements with him to use it.
Few other people alive today have had the privilege of spending a significant amount of time in the day-to-day presence of Tennessee Williams—except John Uecker. And only they could really understand what a gift that continues to be. We had no contact from 1982 until 2009. And then after a period of renewed friendship, John broke off contact with me in January, 2010, claiming that something I had published on my blog, “The Weather Up Here” http://scottkenan.blogspot.com, caused him to lose the right to edit one of Tennessee Williams’ plays.
Mary Kritz offered weekly encouragement as I volunteered beside her in the bookstore at the Spiritual Living Center of Atlanta, and she delivered me to Phyllis Mueller who edited the fifth draft, shaping it and relieving the manuscript of my writing errors. Williams scholar Allean Hale gave early encouragement, and filled my mind with questions. Writer and blogger Hollis Gillespie bragged about me to important ears—and taught me to blog as well.
ADDED 5/24/11, 7:37 PM: I could not have recognized the deep background activities of the Republican Party in monitoring my every computer keystroke and phone call--and constant cell-phone triangulation of my whereabouts in both the United States and Mexico without the inadvertent help of the children of Texas Kate Moldawer: 1. Dudley Sharpe, Jr., whose father had been Dwight Eisenhower's Secretary of the Air Force and developed the United States' first laws governing Outer-Space Nuclear Warfare, as well as being President Eisenhower's top ally fighting the growth of what Eisenhower called "the Military-Industrial Complex." He had been Howard Hughes' best friend in his early years, their fathers being partners in the Sharp-Hughes Tool Company in Houston, Texas. 2. Kate "Junior" Farris. 3. Parker Moldawer. All three combed my manuscript like scholars, correcting several errors. Although they wished not to be credited, I have decided to honor their mother's wish instead. In her youth, Kate Schweppe, a native of Atlanta, had been good friends with the most influential of my distant Kenan relatives. Hereby, I give them a glancing credit as well.
            John Bolinger and Nancy Babcock gave invaluable chapter-by-chapter criticism during the year and a half I spent on the first draft. As I continued, many friends critiqued at least part of it. Many gave other support in ways they may or may not realize. All of you are greatly appreciated: Pam Agababian, Janee Barrett, Mark Beard, Bill Copeland, Kimberly Craft, Bob Davis, Allison Dowd, Julie Kenan Duffy, Lissa Dulany, Gerry Flynn, Tom Hambrick, Phillip Hardigree, Sue Hobbs, Chuck Hyde, Jane Kenan, Mike Kenan, Marc LaFont, Gavin Lambert, Alex Whiddon, Dan Lotten, Jeff Lux, Patricia McKelvey, Joel Miller, Gregory Mosher, Steve Oden, Steve Poynter, Chuck Pritchard, Kelly Ray, Paul Robinson, Hilary Russell, Patrick Stansbury, Mary Wyatt, and Susan Zoller. I apologize to anyone I have left out here. So many people helped in various ways and I am grateful to you all.
 Finally, there is Tennessee. I thought the writing of this book would be my gift to him—but it has been his gift to me.