LIKE LOIS LANE –
May 2026 – Lois, who, at age 82, was no more than five feet tall, looked up at me with glistening, grayish-blue eyes and gripped my hand firmly. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said in a lively, crackling voice. I stammered out a reply, suddenly feeling very foolish. She was so open, so welcoming….
She told me how pleased she was that I had come, then invited me to go with a friend of hers named Penny on a tour of the house. In moments I was mounting a creaky spiral staircase and entering a long, high-ceilinged room crammed with photographs, plaques, an old Moviola machine and a desk where, Penny told me, Lois had laid the groundwork for Al-Anon by sending letters to the wives of alcoholics in her husband’s support groups.
As I made my way through the room, poring over photographs of Bill and Lois, and reading letters from luminaries around the world thanking them for their work, my eyes widened in surprise. I clicked on the Moviola and felt my own movie gears whir. The founding of AA—what a film that would make! And all the material is right here at my fingertips. I wonder if Lois will give me permission?
