05/05/2002

Brian Dickinson, a Providence Journal editorial writer who stirred thousands of readers with his masterful, elegant columns long after Lou Gehrig's disease left him with the control only of his eyes, died early yesterday morning at home.

Mr. Dickinson was 64. He was under hospice care and his family was in the house at the time of his death.

For nearly a decade, helped by a series of remarkable computer devices, an array of medical machines and the constant attention of his family, Mr. Dickinson worked at his writing daily, even though he could neither speak nor move his arms, hands or fingers.

"Brian's story is one of creativity coupled with epic endurance," said Robert B. Whitcomb, Vice President and Editorial Page Editor of The Journal, and Mr. Dickinson's editor until the columnist retired, late last year.

"Totally paralyzed, except for his eyes, he managed to put out a body of commentary whose eloquence, emotional precision and even humor drew international attention. His continued engagement with the world in the face of his devastating malady was a lesson in heroism."

"Apart from his obvious courage and incredible sense of humor under the most trying circumstances, in all the years I worked with Brian I was most impressed with his solid commitment to quality and balance on the Journal's editorial and commentary pages," said Stephen Hamblett, publisher of The Journal from 1987 to 1999.

"While he recognized the Journal's obligation to take forceful editorial positions, he was always careful to be sure that other opinions were given comparable space. In this regard, Brian's innate sense of fairness came through, particularly appreciated, I feel, in an era of too much 'in your face' journalism."

Mr. Dickinson's last column, exploring the implications of America's response to the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, was published Oct. 3. Like all of his work, Mr. Dickinson's last Journal piece was intelligent, informed, and eminently readable.

But it was what Mr. Dickinson wrote about his struggle with the relentlessly disabling and inevitably fatal amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), that most moved thousands of his fans, including former President Bill Clinton.

Bluntly honest, the columns kept readers up to date on his extraordinary feat of living long beyond the normal five-year course of the disease. They also brimmed with enthusiasm and wonder about the life that he, his wife, Barbara Dickinson, and their three children had salvaged.

"I neither move nor speak," Mr. Dickinson told his readers in July, 1998. "My feet are strapped securely to the wheelchair leg supports; my hands and forearms rest on a pillow. Except for the fact that I can still manage a smile and still have full control of my eye muscles, I could almost be taken for some outlandish display in Madame Tussaud's wax museum."

Still, one of his most moving pieces advised his readers to embrace and savor every morsel of life, never forgetting to "feed the birds."

"Forgive. Smile. Walk (Oh, do walk when you can)," wrote the columnist. "And, since you can never do it all, savor the small moments that, aggregated, become great." (The column appears on the facing page.)

Mr. Dickinson described in idyllic terms the suburban life he led after the disease was first diagnosed in late 1992, forcing him first to use a cane, then two canes, a walker and finally a wheelchair.

He welcomed his first grandson, Jacob Dickinson, into the world in a 1998 column that predicted the boy would grow up in a brand-new century "rich with possibilities, all yours to explore."

How could anyone have such an upbeat view while being kept prisoner in his body? Mr. Dickinson answered that question several times, explaining in one column that fighting a cruel disease was a motive to live.

"Combat against ALS is its own reward," he said. "The disease now defines the terms of my existence. If I were to cave in too easily, I would be violating the terms of an implicit contract that I had with someone."

That Mr. Dickinson was able to survive was a miracle of modern technology as well as of indomitable spirit.

In his final years, after he had lost most voluntary functions, he used a system in which a small TV camera tracked the movements of his eyes, reconfiguring them through a computer into letters, then into words and sentences.

This method of writing was laborious, sometimes taking 10 hours or more to write 700 or 800 words, which his computer then would spirit to the newspaper in Providence, 11 miles from his home in Warwick.

The impact of these words was widespread. In 1995, his work received a Distinguished Writing Award from the American Society of Newspaper Editors at a ceremony in Dallas, Texas that was attended by his wife and by President Clinton.

Holding Barbara Dickinson's hands, Mr. Clinton told her that he had read a Providence Journal account of Mr. Dickinson's struggle and had been stirred. He gave her a letter and tape-recorded comments for her husband.

Mr. Dickinson's work was nominated by The Providence Journal for journalism's greatest honor, the Pulitzer Prize, in 1995.

The ABC television magazine-format program, 20/20, did a story about Mr. Dickinson in 1997 that disclosed the profound effect he had on others, including those who suffered the same disease.

Many honors were bestowed on Mr. Dickinson.

In 1999, he was presented an honorary degree during graduation ceremonies at Brown University, and in his wheelchair, he shared the stage with retired U.S. senator and astronaut John Glenn, filmmaker Steven Spielberg and Queen Noor of Jordan. That same year he was also inducted into the Rhode Island Heritage Hall of Fame, along with Providence Mayor Vincent A. Cianci Jr. and yachtsman and Bristol town official Halsey C. Herreshoff.

He was born Brian Ward Dickinson on Sept. 28, 1937 in Chicago, the son of Leon T. and Margaret (Stewart) Dickinson.

He graduated from Harvard College in 1959, and he earned a master's degree in political science from Brown University. He also had studied at Georgetown University, American University, Princeton University and the University of Rhode Island.

During a three-year stint in the Army, assigned to the public information office in the military district of Washington, he was cited with an Army Commendation Medal.

While still at Harvard, Mr. Dickinson had worked as an assistant to the cartoonist Walt Kelly, and afterward, he was a researcher at Newsweek magazine and served as a news assistant in the New York and Washington offices of The New York Times.

The Providence Journal hired Mr. Dickinson as a reporter in 1964. He worked in the East Providence and Warwick news bureaus, and served as the manager of the Cranston office. Later, he headed the newspaper's urban team in Providence, and then he covered state government.

Mr. Dickinson joined the newspaper's editorial staff in 1972, and was named chief editorial writer in late 1976. Five years after that, he was promoted to the department's top position: editorial page editor.

In later years, Mr. Dickinson turned over those duties to others and began writing a public affairs column on subjects ranging from foreign policy to national and state politics.

Mr. Dickinson's first inkling that ALS had struck came about a decade ago, when he noticed that he was having difficulty walking. But he and his wife chalked that up to possible side effects of an automobile accident in 1991. Later, he noticed tremors in his legs, arms and shoulders; then one day he could not lift his right leg. In December 1992, a neurologist announced that he had ALS, and said that the disease was unstoppable.

Nicknamed for the illness that killed Lou Gehrig, a star baseball player for the New York Yankees who died in 1941, ALS attacks nerves that make voluntary muscles work. Often it is fatal within just five years.

Brian and Barbara Dickinson and their children turned out to be ferocious fighters.

Brian insisted on working in his office, even though the disease progressively made his body weaker and weaker. More than once, he fell, injuring himself. Finally, confined to a wheelchair, he wrote from home.

Every time that he seemed to adjust to the advancing disease, it got worse, requiring a new response. When ALS had sapped the strength of his fingers and hands, Mr. Dickinson dictated his stories into a computer that converted sounds to the written word. When his voice failed, he shifted to a computer that would allow him to control a blinking cursor, and select from a 5,000-word glossary, with the one finger that still worked.

Predictably, that finger gave out, too, so Mr. Dickinson moved to the next piece of equipment, the video system that trained a TV camera on his eye, and allowed him to select one letter at a time.

Mr. Dickinson grew adept with this system, whose $20,000 cost was paid for by the newspaper. The computer also allowed him to "speak" to visitors, translating what he had written though a voice synthesizer.

Throughout the years, his entire family sustained Mr. Dickinson. Fraternal twins, Jonathan and Matthew, and their brother, Andrew, were in their 20s when the illness worsened. They returned to Rhode Island to help with their father's care.

For part of each day, one of the sons would be assigned to "Dad Duty" -- everything from helping their father with his personal care, to trouble-shooting his computer and to driving him to an ocean beach.

For Andrew, these chores had an unusually happy offshoot, which Mr. Dickinson described in one of his columns written to his grandson Jacob.

"In late June 1995, I was ending a one-month stay in Rhode Island Hospital in Providence, where the docs cured a nasty pneumonia and installed a tube in my windpipe to help me breathe.

"The hospital assigned a lovely nurse named Ruth Gingell to accompany me on my ambulance ride home. When we arrived at the house, Andy and Ruth met, and well, you know the story from there. It was, as I'm sure you'll agree, the happiest of coincidences."

Mr. Dickinson is survived by his wife, his sons, two grandchildren, his father and stepmother-in-law, two sisters and three daughters-in-law.

A private family funeral service will be held today. A public memorial service will be scheduled soon.

In lieu of flowers, the family asked that donations be made to the Brian Dickinson Courage Fund at the ALS Association of Rhode Island, 2845 Post Road, Suite 110, Warwick, RI 02886.

The fund supports research efforts for a cure for ALS and provides assistance for patients and their families.

For a look back at several of Brian Dickinson's columns on living with ALS, a profile and other writings about Dickinson, plus Web resources on ALS, go to:

http://projo.com/specials/brian/