1880: Ernest Jacoby
[right, 1913] was born in Manchester, Lancashire, England, as the eighth of eleven known
children of Bertha Iklé and Siegfried Jacoby. After emigrating to the United
States in 1888, he became a rubber merchant in
Boston, Massachusetts, and a
parishioner at Emmanuel Episcopal Church. In 1908, he initiated weekly
meetings for men struggling with alcohol problems. This group would later
advertise itself as the Jacoby Club, “A Club for Men to Help Themselves by
Helping Others”
[left: ad from 17 Jan 1914, Boston (MA) Evening Transcript, p
43].1970: Henry Berton “Bert” Davis, 58, died in Memphis, Tennessee.
2020:
The 62nd Australian General Service Conference was held online
[left: Conference Report cover]. The theme was “I Am Responsible.” Among the advisory actions was #009/2020,
which stated:Conference resolved that the creation of a virtual Area be included as part of the review of the General Service Structure by the Conference Policies & Admissions Committee. All Conference members are requested to advise of any concerns so they can be addressed in a guideline for creating a virtual Area. A draft of this guideline will be circulated to Conference members for input, following which a mail poll will be conducted for approval of the guideline prior to Conference next year.
1944: In Milwaukee, Wisconsin, George S., a man of small stature and dynamic energy, came out of the county hospital and contacted Dr. Gilbert “Gib” K.. Gib had started the first A.A. group in that city in December 1940–January 1941; they met in his home. George had been active in A.A. in Dayton, Ohio, five years earlier but had suffered three prolonged
relapses. George and four or five other members started
another A.A. meeting on Wednesday nights at 8:00 p.m. at the Odd Fellows Hall
on 10th St. in Milwaukee. It was an open meeting. At 7:00 p.m. they held a
beginners’ meeting, which was attended by alcoholics who had come before Judge
Harvey Neelen. About the same time, an Alano Club opened and an A.A. central
office was established at 1012 N. 3rd St. with a full-time secretary
[right: Milwaukee skyline, 1940].
1945: The A.A. Grapevine [left: cover] published Bill W.’s
article “Those ‘Goof Balls’” [right],
a follow-up to the unsigned October article “Evidence on the Sleeping Pill
Menace,” which summarized material from the press, magazines, and medical
journals on the dangers of “pills,” especially for alcoholics. Bill’s article
was a presentation of personal experiences and observations on the subject. He
noted, “Sometimes a general practitioner, not knowing that his patient is
already loaded with barbiturates, will give a morphine injection,” citing two
examples. He also admitted:Near the end of my own drinking career I had an alarming experience. Chloral hydrate was prescribed for one of my terrible hangovers. The doctor warned me to stick rigidly to his dosage. But I kept possession of the bottle. While my wife slept quietly beside me I reached under the mattress, took out the flask, and guzzled the whole business. I had a narrow shave. Moral: When a doctor gives a legitimate sedative prescription don’t let the alcoholic have the bottle.
Bill finished with the story of an “alkie” he called “Slim.” He finally had consented to go to a hospital. On the way he had a
few—but only a small quantity compared to his customary capacity. Just
before we reached the hospital Slim’s speech suddenly got very thick and
he passed out.
Dr. Silkworth took one look at Slim’s blue face. Said he to me, “How is this man’s heart?” Confidently I replied,
“He’s got a heart like an elephant. Told me so himself. But I don’t see
how he got drunk so fast. I gave him very little liquor.” Out came the
doctor’s stethoscope. Turning then to me, he said, “Not much use bringing
this man in here. He can’t last long. What else has he been taking besides
liquor?” Stunned, I replied, “Nothing, that I know of.” The doctor shook
his head, saying, “This poor chap has been loaded with barbiturates for
days. When you gave him alcohol, even a little, it fired off the
accumulated charge of sedative he had in him. See how blue he is? His
heart isn’t really working much. It’s just jittering. I can’t even count
it.”
When Silkie called Slim’s wife, she said he had been on heavy doses of Amytal for 10 days. Silkworth consulted a famous heart specialist who prescribed for Slim, but neither doctor thought he would survive. When the prescription arrived, Silkworth and Bill went to take it up to Slim’s room. As they got off the elevator, they saw someone coming down the hall happily smoking a cigarette. “Hello, boys,” Slim called, “what am I supposed to be doing in here?”






















































