Girl Scout founder Juliette Gordon Low died of breast cancer on January 17, 1927, at her home in Savannah, Georgia.
She had kept her condition to herself and devoted her last years to growing the Girl Scout movement, which was barely a decade old.
Low Treated in Richmond, Virginia
Although Daisy divided her year between London and Savannah, she sought medical treatment in Richmond, Virginia. Low had family and several Girl Scout projects in Richmond, so her trips seemed to be perfectly normal.
In April 1926, for example, she ostensibly came to Richmond to launch a new training program, but made time to see a local physician, Stuart McGuire, considered one of the top surgeons in the United States. Dr. McGuire’s sister, Margaret, had married Daisy’s younger brother, Arthur.
Stuart had married Ruth Robertson, head of St. Luke’s Nursing School. To my disappointment, Ruth is not a relative of mine, but she was a respected community leader and became a valued Girl Scout.
Daisy had surgery at Richmond’s St. Luke’s Hospital, then convalesced at the McGuire’s home under Ruth’s supervision. Daisy quickly recruited Ruth into Girl Scouts. Ruth would go on to establish the Richmond Girl Scout Council.
Ruth often spoke of Daisy’s personality, enthusiasm, and final months, including this address to a regional conference of Girl Scouts in 1950.
As I Remember Juliette Low
It is not easy to give a really adequate picture of our Founder, Juliette Low, for she was a person of such unusual and diversified personality that I don’t believe there ever was anyone quite like her. Vivacious, energetic, impulsive, with a keen wit and of many talents, there was never a dull moment if she were around. What tales she could tell, what original ideas came out of that vivid imagination of hers. One has to admit, however, that her lack of concern as to the opinion of other people, and the enthusiasm and determination with which she often originated, and carried through, ideas and enterprises all her own, frequently gave her a reputation for eccentricity that was not entirely undeserved.
This, however, was but the outer covering. Underneath was an element of bed-rock character that was far more vital and enduring than charm and personality. On her Father’s tombstone are carved three words which were regarded as the watchwords of his life — “Duty, Courage, Loyalty.” They, might also be placed on hers. Added to this, also was a great generosity, a deep kindness that automatically reached out to help others, and a keen and eager joy in the adventure of living.
So much has been written about Mrs. Low that I am sure you are all well acquainted with the story of her early life and development, of her marriage to an Englishman and her life in England, of her meeting with Sir Baden Powell and her subsequent interest in Girl Guiding and her determination to bring the movement to the United States.
The Challenge of Launching Girl Scouts
I hope, too, that you know something of the trials and tribulations that beset the young organization in this country in the beginning, the indifference and prejudice that had to be overcome, together with the lack of funds and influence necessary to launch it. It was a tremendous task, but it was undertaken by a courageous, indomitable little woman who didn’t know the meaning of the word “failure,” and as we think of the time and thought and labor put into the initial work of starting our wheels going round, Girl Scouting ceases to be in any way impersonal. It is alive and warm and friendly, carrying still so evidently the imprint of her personality.
I did not have the good fortune to meet Mrs. Low until after my marriage, but she and my husband were old friends, and as his sister had married her brother the families were quite intimate, and I already knew her well by reputation. By that time she had Girl scouting in this country on a fairly firm basis, and I was beginning to show the snow-ball growth that has characterized it ever since its beginning. She was full of enthusiasm and of tales of the experiences she was having while arousing interest, and organizing the work in various places.
Unfortunately, at that time I had not been inoculated with the Girl Scout germ, so that I made no notes or paid particular attention to details of the stories, but I remember how she made us laugh at her methods, and how amazed we were at the apparently impossible things she managed to accomplish by her determination, tact, and her ability to size up situations and people. It was positively uncanny the way in which she could pick out exactly the right person for a job, and then persuade her, or perhaps I should say entice her, into her well laid plans. She used her deafness for this purpose with great skill, for somehow she could never hear the word “no” even if it were shouted at her. She would give such a charming smile as she put away her hearing aid and thanked her victim for her cooperation, assuring her that she was sure she would be most successful, and would find the work both interesting and enjoyable.
Always Ready to Laugh at Herself
She never hesitated to tell a joke on her own self. In fact she seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, and would laugh as much as anyone over some misadventure she may have had. I can see her now, in my mind’s eye, telling us about the meeting in Liverpool when she was the only one to applaud the speaker who was giving a eulogy of herself. “Liverpool!” she said. “I never want to ever see Liverpool again.” And then she proceeded to tell how she had attended this large meeting, and was seated on a platform with a group of dignified, and somewhat stuffy, dowagers. The meeting, apparently, was rather dull, and Mrs. Low was relieved when a very charming and vivacious lady rose and spoke in such a bright and earnest-way that, though she could not hear a word that was said, she felt it must be something very good, and as no one else seemed to be particularly impressed or interested, she thought she would encourage the speaker as much as possible. So she smiled and nodded, and applauded vigorously at every interval. The fact that the other women continued to be unimpressed and disinterested only increased her efforts. After it was all over, she discovered to her horror and chagrin that the speaker was giving an appreciation of Mrs. Low’s own work
Of her many-sided nature, the characteristic that I like to dwell on most, as I carry her personality into Girl Scout work, is her courage. To the world in general she carried herself with such a brave front and, apparently, merry heart, that to all out ward appearances she was a happy and contented woman. Only those who knew her intimately were aware of the many sorrows that had been accorded her. Her head was always high, her courage undaunted, a smile ever ready on her lips, and her physical handicap of deafness she had turned into a valuable asset.
No Time to be Depressed
The last few years of her life were haunted with the horror of the shadow of an incurable disease that had fastened its grip upon her. Yet there was never any self-pity, no bemoaning of her lot, no slacking of her efforts. On the contrary, her ever present thought was to spare her family and friends the knowledge of what she was going through, and the doctors and the inner few who had to be told were sworn to secrecy. Her brother has told me that there happened to be a family gathering the night of the day on which she had received the doctor’s verdict, and that she was the life of the party, keeping them all in shouts of laughter. Not until long after did they know that she had been told that day that the disease was incurable, and that her days were numbered.
In the spring of 1926 she was in St. Luke’s Hospital, Richmond, where she had come to consult my husband, Dr. Stuart McGuire, and to undergo a minor surgical operation. She had practically recovered from this but was still weak and still more or less confined to bed. However Region Three was having its annual conference in Richmond at that time, and she was anxious to attend.
[…]
Fugitive Hospital Patient
She asked permission of her surgeon to attend the meeting, and when the permission was unhesitatingly refused, merely smiled and said nothing more about it, but when the time came, without any further argument, she quietly got up, dressed, called a cab, went to the meeting, made a short talk, came back, went to bed, and then, with an air of deep satisfaction, confessed what she had done. Undoubtedly it was most imprudent, and, from her physician’s standpoint, even quite reprehensible, but at the same time one cannot help feeling and saying, “What an indomitable spirit she had!”
It was at that time that she asked my husband to tell her, frankly and honestly, just how much more time she would probably have to live as she had so many things to put in order. He hesitated, but knowing Daisy so well, he knew she meant it, so he answered, “Approximately six months.”
No time was lost in repining. Much had to be done both in her Girl Scout work and in her personal affairs, and putting all thought of self behind her, she did what had to be done as quickly and efficiently as she could.
Some of the business that had to be attended to entailed a trip to England, so, knowing that we were going abroad that summer, she decided to go over on the same ship with us. We were a group of half a dozen from Richmond, all old friends, and to them we told just enough of Mrs. Low’s condition to make them very much interested in her., and anxious to make the trip as pleasant and happy as possible.
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Last Months
She returned from England late that Fall, and we saw her once more as she stopped off in Richmond and spent a few weeks at St. Luke’s Hospital on her way South. She was very ill then, but Girl Scouting was still uppermost in her mind. I remember that she was trying to interest me in Brownies at that time, and between violent spasms of nausea, would give vivid accounts of how they were growing, what they were doing, and all about the new Handbook.
I know quite well the nurse who took care of her while she was in the Hospital, and who went with her to Savannah and was with her until her death. What she always speaks of, when we talk of Mrs. Low, is of her courage, and her forgetfulness of self through all her suffering.
When she died in January 1927, the flag above the city hall in Savannah hung at half mast, and all the city paid tribute to a wonderful woman. She was buried in her Girl scout uniform.
Girl Scouts formed a guard of honor. The two hymns chosen for her funeral service — two of her favorites — were “Lead Kindly Light” and “Fight the Good Fight.” Could there be two more suitable?
Daisy Low died a little over 23 years ago, but, though her physical body is gone, she is not really dead if we but keep alive the spirit that was hers — love, humor, courage, tolerance.
She lit the torch and handed it to us. We have a great responsibility and a great privilege in holding it high and carrying it onward.
© 2025 Ann Robertson, writer, editor, Girl Scout historian, but NOT a Girl Scout employee.
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