Marilyn
(Lynn) Willis, ASH
April 22, 1921 ‑ March
8, 1999
by Maribeau Briggs
The first time I met
Lynn Willis was at a memorial service for Bob Brodie. I'd never met Bob, but
everyone at the gathering was downcast. When it came time for eulogizing, no one
wanted to speak first. After an uncomfortable silence, a diminutive lady
sporting a deerstalker rose from her chair.
"I hate Bob Brodie!"
she declared vehemently. The group gasped and chairs creaked. "He could do the
New York Times crossword puzzle in 15 minutes," she concluded and resumed her
seat.
We laughed until we
ached. From that moment, all gloom was dispelled, and the evening became
cheerful and upbeat. I hastened to introduce myself to this wacky woman. We rode
the subway home together that afternoon, and it was the beginning of a beautiful
friendship.
Over the years, I saw
Lynn Willis work her magic at similar gatherings, both happy and sad. No problem
was too large, no tragedy so dire that she couldn't face it with her own special
brand of humor.
On April 25, a loving
tribute was held to honor the spirit of this remarkable woman. It was attended
by her Sherlockian friends, as well as those from the World Ship and the Gilbert
and Sullivan societies, both of which she was an active member. As we passed the
candle from friend to friend, everyone had a chance to tell their favorite Lynn
Willis story. Even the sadness of her passing couldn't keep us from laughing out
loud. There were stories of shipboard mishaps, musical mayhem, and Sherlockian
whimsy. No matter who told the tale or how long he or she had known Lynn, the
verdict was unanimous. Lynn was unique ‑- an adorable and audacious character,
irritating and endearing all at once. She lived life on her own terms and won
the respect and admiration of everyone she knew.
In the real world,
Lynn served as a yeoman in the U.S. Navy during World War II. After the war, she
became a member of the National Secretaries Association and worked for various
companies in the New York garment district. She circled the globe with her good
friend and traveling companion Lucille Scofield.
But I think Lynn was
happiest among her fellow Sherlockians. To the Adventuresses, she was our own
dear Laura Lyons, and anyone foolish enough to disparage that Canonical
character received a withering tirade of scathing rebukes. Other scions she
belonged to were: The Three Garridebs, The Montague Street Lodgers, The Long
Island Cave Dwellers, The Priory Scholars, The Epilogues of Sherlock Holmes, The
Bootmakers of Toronto, The Master's Class of Philadelphia, The Red Circle, and
The Men on the Tor.
When the Baskerville
Bash was founded, Lynn was one of the first to jump on the BBC bandwagon. She
threw herself into the Bash with all her infectious enthusiasm. She was
absolutely dedicated to an event where all Sherlockians could come together to
celebrate the Master's birthday and keep his memory green. It's difficult to
think about future Bashes without the benefit of her staunch support and the
pleasure of her company.
But I choose to
believe that Lynn Willis will continue to join in our reindeer games, as long as
there are friends to celebrate her contributions and keep her memory green. In
the Canon, Holmes refers to death as the final and greatest mystery of all. If
that's true, I hope for God's sake that it is a well‑written mystery with a
logical ending. If not, God is going to get an earful!
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