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Shortly before his death, Alsop was visited by TIME'S Art White, who reported: "His wife Tish sat near him, jumping up now and then to check that the antibiotic was flowing properly into Stew's arm. We talked about his book. Why did he write it? 'For money mostly. But if you're told you're going to die in a year and a half at the most, you want to leave something of yourself behind.' We talked about his brother Joe, who had given him some 40 transfusions of platelets in the past year or so. Each transfusion took about three hours, and Joe's help was essential. Platelets have to be matched and blood relatives are a reliable source. Stew joked that he had become more conservative since 'getting so many of Joe's elderly platelets.' He got transfusions of hemoglobin from other donors. 'It makes you feel better at once. It's better than two martinis.'
"What was he proudest of? His book. 'And I am always proud of the part Joe and I played in bringing down McCarthy. We were the first to attack McCarthy all out. And I'm proud that my column writing has been not brilliant but sensible and fair. I have an instinct for the center. I'm not a passionate man.' When we left, Stew climbed out of bed, hitched up his blue pajamas and shook hands. Always the gentleman."
Four days later, the gentle man was dead. By his own testimony, his regret —though he had put up a memorable fight—was minimal. As he wrote in his book: "A dying man needs to die as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist."