1939: Charles Barnes Towns
[far left], owner of Towns Hospital [near left], where Bill W.
[right, 1930s] had gotten sober, offered Bill a job as a “lay therapist” for $700 a
month [~$17,000 in 2026], in part
because he knew Bill was helping other alcoholics without charge, Stunned,
Bill told Charlie he would have an answer the next morning.
On the subway ride back to Clinton St., Bill began mentally preparing a speech to deliver the news at that night’s A.A. meeting. A fitting Biblical phrase came to him: “Laborers are worthy of their hire” (Luke 10:7). At the meeting, he presented the facts of Charlie’s offer and began to outline its implications.
Suddenly, he realized he was speaking to impassive faces that just stared up at him. After a while, his voice trailed off. As he paused, an old-timer raised his hand. He believed he spoke for the others, he said, admitting they were concerned about Bill’s finances and knew something had to be done. However, what Bill was proposing didn’t seem right; he foresaw complications. Others began to speak, expressing kindness and a clear understanding of what this offer meant. They all agreed, voicing the same concerns.
Finally, a short, stocky man who hadn’t been with them long stood up. He wanted to appeal to Bill and to something he couldn’t quite articulate. It was the “thing” that bound them together, and he knew that if groups like theirs were to exist and thrive, that “thing” simply had to prevail. Bill himself had told them that the good is often the enemy of the best. What Bill was suggesting just wasn’t good enough. Others spoke up as well, their points clear and well-received, and Bill knew—or sensed before he fully understood—that they were right. Still, he continued to advocate for his position.
Then, abruptly, he stopped. He realized that there could be no bosses in a group. The only authority would be the group conscience, and all decisions would be made collectively. This was something he and Bob had discussed from the beginning, exchanging endless letters on the subject. Now, Bill was being asked to put this belief into practice.
In the morning, he called Charlie Towns and told him he couldn’t accept the
offer.
1941: Clarence Charles
“C.C.” A.* led the first
Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in Columbus, Ohio.
Earlier, Rev. Floyd Faust [left],
the non-alcoholic pastor of the Broad Street Church of Christ in Columbus,
had hosted a daily radio show to “help people find a spiritual way of
living… and surmount problems… in their daily lives…” A parishioner showed
him an article about A.A. in a medical journal that included contact
information. Faust recalled, “I wrote to all ten contacts, praying for an
answer from one. To my surprise, I received a response from all ten!” One of
those responses was from C. C., who traveled all the way from Cleveland
to meet with Faust and “six individuals with alcohol problems” at Ohio’s
State Fair
[near right: entrance; far right: student ticket] in August. Faust began announcing on his radio program that there was “help
for anyone who had a drinking problem… if they wanted help,” and within
three months, Columbus had its first A.A. meeting, led by C.C.
2002: The A.A. Grapevine, Inc.,
reissued The Best of Bill [left: cover], adding a sixth
article to the previous five: Bill W.’s “Anonymity,” written for the
A.A. Grapevine (published in January 1955 with the title “Why
Alcoholics Anonymous Is Anonymous”). The original five, also from the
Grapevine, were “Faith” (April 1961, “The Dilemma of No Faith”), “Fear”
(January 1962, “This Matter of Fear”), “Honesty” (August 1961, “This Matter of
Honesty”), “Humility” (June 1961, “Humility for Today”), and “Love” (January
1958, “The Next Frontier—Emotional Sobriety”).












































