1880: Frederick E. B. [left, 1923]
was born in Manhattan to Frederick E. and Mary Neuser B., both German
immigrants—their third child and third son.
1890: Elvin Morton “Bunky” Jellinek
[right, 1920s]
was born in New York City to a Hungarian father, Markus Erwin Marcel
Jellinek—a merchant and descendant of the notable Jellinek family of
Budapest—and an American mother, Rose Jacobson, known professionally as the
opera singer Marcella Lindh.
When he was five, his family relocated to Hungary, where he attended
elementary and high school in Budapest, graduating with honors in 1908. He
went on to attend—though it’s unclear whether he formally
enrolled—universities in several cities, including Leipzig, Berlin, and
Grenoble, studying philosophy, ethnography, psychoanalysis, and cultural
anthropology. It appears, however, that he never earned a degree or
doctorate, only honorary appointments later in life.
His time in Hungary ended under dramatic circumstances, marked by an
arrest warrant issued in four languages. Although the details remain
murky, reports suggested he had embezzled half a billion koronas
(crowns)
[left: 1,000 kr note, 1920]—equivalent at the time to about $1,775,000 US
[~$29.6 million in 2016].
He was forced to flee the country in 1920; sensational newspaper coverage
followed, and the arrest warrant stayed active for a decade.
The next ten years of his life are almost entirely undocumented. He may
have worked for a shipping company in Sierra Leone under the alias Nikita
Hartmann, and records left by his daughter suggest he supported himself
through barter and cooking during his time in Africa. After 1926, Jellinek
moved to Honduras, where he worked as an agricultural engineer for a
banana company and later became its director of research. By 1929, he had
arrived in the U.S., working out of the company’s Boston office, where he
completed a book on banana diseases published under a name like “A. N.
Hartmann” or “Nikita Hartman”
[right: cover of Banana Growth and Fruiting: A Popular Summary, by A.
N. Hartman, which researchers say “is a somewhat abridged and less technical
version of earlier publications”]. Jellinek spent the first nine years of his American career at Worcester
Hospital
[left, 2007], working primarily with schizophrenic patients. He contributed to a vast
collection of more than 500 million data points, which formed the basis
for a five-point schizophrenia rating scale.
In 1939, he turned his attention to alcoholism at New York University’s
medical school, where he was tasked with collecting and organizing
previously published research on alcohol. This scientific review laid the
groundwork for the professional literature collection later housed at
Rut-gers University (moved there from the Yale Institute of Alcohol
Studies in 1962). Jellinek became a leading figure in the emerging field
of alcohology, an achievement later commemorated by an award established
in his honor—one of the field’s most prestigious recognitions. He also
worked as a biostatistician and physiologist, fluent in nine languages and
proficient in four others. He wrote
The Disease Concept of Alcoholism
[far left]
and created the original Jellinek Curve
[near right], charting the progression of alcoholism from “occasional relief
drinking” to “obsessive drinking continues in vicious circles.” Although
Dr. Max Glatt
[near left, 1990]
later modified it [far right]
to include stages of recovery, it remains popularly known as the
“Jellinek Curve.” Over the years, it has been adapted for various forms of
addiction and continues to be widely referenced today.
1938: [16th?]
Archibald “Archie” T.
[right]
, who would have his last drink on September 3rd, later described his
activities in the days leading up to that moment:
No money. No place to live. No help. No morale left. No will to live left.
That was my condition in the Summer of 1938. It caused me to park myself on
an unsuspecting friend whose family were out of town and who didn’t know
much about my career for the past, or previous, several years and he
unwittingly invited me to stay in his home because I was homeless. He had me
on his hands for 19 days. Every one of those days I was drunk, continuously.
I would come home and sleep off the effects of several hours of drinking,
crawl out of bed and go back to the saloon and get drunk again. I managed in
that cagey way that alcoholics have, of avoiding him pretty well. Or at
least I thought I did. In fact, I was quite sure in my alcoholic way that he
didn’t even know I drank.
1940:
Clinton “Duke” P. of Toledo, Ohio, was admitted to Akron City Hospital,
where he sobered up permanently.
Duke was a salesman, and his boss had
read the account of Rollie H., the Cleveland Indians catcher, getting sober
then, when this result was credited to the Oxford Group, breaking his
silence to say that Alcoholics Anonymous deserved all the credit for his
sobriety. In 1978, Duke remembered his boss calling him and his wife, Katie,
in for a talk. He reportedly said said to them,
Duke, I think this A.A. will appeal to you, because it’s psychologically
sound and religiously sane. There will be a couple of men come to see you.
Do anything they say. If they want you to go to Akron and spend the weekend
with them, go ahead. We’ll pay the bill.
The two men were Charles (“C.J.”) K. and Eddie B., who had both voluntarily
committed themselves to the state insane asylum in Toledo. During the summer
of 1939, they were shown the manuscript of the Big Book,
Alcoholics Anonymous. They were so impressed that they got themselves
released and went to Akron to live. C.J.’s father said that he would pay his
living expenses as long as he stayed out of Toledo.
In a 1978
interview, noting that in those days hospital rooms were cheaper than
hotels, Duke recalled,
I was admitted to City Hospital with ‘acute gastritis.’ But I went that
night [the 14th] to Wally G――’s home. I was amazed — a dozen people
sitting around calling each other rummies and alkies and not getting
upset. Wally had iron-gray hair and looked like Warren Harding. He didn’t
seem to have a worry in the world. Yet he had been fired from the W.P.A.
[Works Progress Administration, a Federal job program instituted during
the Great Depression].
The next morning, who should come to see me
but Dr. Bob! He just radiated charm, love, and confidence — all the things
I didn’t have. He said, “Duke, everything’s going to be all right.” And I
knew it would be all right.
After he left, I had a sense of peace.
The fear was gone. I knew that when I saw Katie [his wife], I was going to
tell her everything. And when I did, she knew that I was telling the truth
for the first time.
His wife, Katie, wiping away tears 28 years later, recalled that she had
gone along with this scheme to supposedly sober Duke up, but was thinking
to herself, “What kind of sucker are you to send your husband down to
spend a weekend in Akron with the alumni of an insane asylum?”
1941:
The Cuyahoga Central Committee of Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) held its
second meeting. Notice was given by Chairman Clarence S.
[left]:
Being mindful of the need and usefulness of a central committee, our two
meetings have been marked by an outstanding atmosphere of fine fellowship
and co-operation between the groups. We have had excellent attendance and
much interest is being shown by all committee members in the furtherance
of our fellowship.
At the first meeting, held five months earlier, attendees had voted to
establish a Central Committee. During that meeting, Clarence was ousted as
chairman due to lingering mistrust stemming from a series on A.A.
published by the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Clarence referred to this
upheaval as a “revolution,” and as a result, little else was
accomplished.
During the second meeting, three committees were
formed: Entertainment, chaired by Albert “Abby” G.
[right]; Finance, chaired by Wm. “Bill” H.; and Hospital, chaired by H. L. M.
Each committee comprised six members drawn from various groups in the
Cleveland area. Committee members were to serve a term of three months, or
until the chairman’s term expired, or until replaced by the chairman.
One
of Clarence’s ideas, borrowed from Abby, was the “rotation” of officers,
intended to ensure an equal and representative voice within the
fellowship. The meeting also introduced the new “A.A. Pamphlets.” Mitchell
K., Clarence’s biographer, believed these pamphlets were likely similar in
content to earlier articles from the Houston Press written by Larry
J.
[left], whom Clarence had sponsored before Larry moved to Texas and helped
start A.A. there.
1939: [the 18th?] Dr. Robert “Bob” S. [right] and Sister Ignatia (née Bridget Della Mary Gavin) [left] facilitated the first admission of an alcoholic to St. Thomas
Hospital [below right, c. 1940] in Akron, Ohio, using Dr. Bob’s diagnostic guise of “acute gastritis.” At
the time, alcoholism was viewed as a disease, leading hospitals to generally deny admission to alcoholics under a
policy of “not treating drunks.” Sister Ignatia later vividly recalled a day
when she had come…
1955:
The Group Secretary—a newsletter sent regularly to Alcoholics
Anonymous groups from the Alcoholic Foundation’s New York City office
since 1947—was renamed The General Service Bulletin.
First published on 14 November 1940 as the A.A. Bulletin [right: 1st issue]
, it had already been renamed The Group Secretary in September 1952.
In May 1956, it would be consolidated with several other A.A. bulletins
to form the A.A. Exchange Bulletin [far left: Vol. I, No. 1]. Finally, in December 1966, the A.A. Exchange Bulletin would become
Box 4-5-9 [near left: 1966 Holiday issue].
