Dear Abby: We read, we learned

LITTLE ROCK — The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.

• Proverbs 12:15, Old Testament, English Standard Version

I’m sure I’m not the only person who can say that the Dear Abby column was the first newspaper column of which she became aware.

And I’m sure I’m not the only newspaper columnist who has pointed to Abigail Van Buren, real name Pauline Phillips, as her inspiration. Phillips began her column as a stay-at-home mom, and - along with twin sister and fellow syndicated advice columnist Ann Landers - turned out to be one of the most well-known and influential advice purveyors in the world.

Phillips died Jan. 16 at the age of 94. Her daughter, Jeanne Phillips, continues the Dear Abby legacy.

The death of the original Abby brought back memories of enjoying her column, as a reader and as someone whose past job duties at this newspaper included editing and formatting her column.

Phillips’ advice-seekers included the usual suspects: those who felt they didn’t have anyone else to confide in; those who needed an impartial ear; those who didn’t want their business put in the street ... under their own names, that is. I never wrote her, but was helped more than a few times by her responses to those who did.

As the obituaries state, the letters Phillips received - and at one point had to defend as being real - were often proof that truth could be stranger than fiction. Granted, she got her share of gag questions, which she reportedly could easily spot. But we’ve all rolled our eyes at many a “real” question or two lobbed at her.

There was always the inevitable letter that went something like this: “Dear Abby, my sweetheart is a wonderful guy/gal, but he/she drinks, takes drugs, goes through my money and is abusive. Should we marry?” Or: “Bob and I have been living together for 18 years. I want to get married; he keeps putting it off. Should I give up and move on?”

As readers, we found ourselves gripping the paper and screaming advice to the writer, usually ending our sentence with “idiot!” or “doofus!” Abby must have spent many a moment gripping letters and doing the same, but always came up with a response that, while perhaps stern, didn’t include personal attacks. (And we were fine ones to talk. How many times have we gotten ourselves embroiled in situations that a grade-schooler would see was stupid or self-destructive ... but somehow we just were not able to extricate ourselves until we asked somebody for advice?)

I like to think of this as the moral of Phillips’ story: Just as we’re all advice seekers at one time or another, we’re all going to be ad-vice givers at one time or another, even if we don’t write a syndicated column.

This is true with parents, teachers or those whose vocation has to do with the shaping of minds. But we all will be approached for advice sooner or later ... sometimes from the most unlikely of sources. We may be taken aback at first. We may wonder, “What the heck does this person think I know? I have all these problems and he’s asking me for advice? I can barely balance my own doggone checkbook.”

Ideally, words of advice come to mind. We recite them as though we were pros, marveling at how we sound like we actually have some sense. We marvel as the advice-asker gives us thanks, and perhaps a hug. We shake our heads when we later hear the advice-asker giving us credit for dispensing wise counsel. And we realize that we do matter, we are valuable and even our screw-ups in life can translate into wisdom we can share with others in their search for meaning.

Phillips was known for her sharp, non-wordy humor, which manifested itself in the flippant one-liners easily found on the Internet by anyone doing keyword searches for articles about her. But she knew what we’d all do well to remember: Dispensing advice is not a pastime that should be taken lightly. Ultimately, we’ll be held accountable for it.

I’d advise you to e-mail: hwilliams@arkansasonline.com