… did nothing else… but whittle on those infernal boomerangs. [Finally] I sawed the headboard out of my bed to get just the right piece of wood, and out in the old workshop at night by the light of the lantern I whittled away.With his grandfather standing beside him at the edge of the churchyard, Bill prepared to throw his latest attempt at a boomerang. It soared “around the churchyard in front of the house” before curving back toward them. To avoid being decapitated, they both lunged forward. The boomerang crashed against a nearby headstone. They sat up, and Bill whispered, “I did it. I did it.” He jumped to his feet and let out a banshee scream “that could have been heard in Manchester. ‘I did it…’”
1916: Bill W. returned to Norwich University [left: buildings on campus, c. 1911?]
, still classified as a freshman. His roommate, a sophomore, informed him
that the sophomores planned to “get” the freshmen. Since Bill had attended
the previous year and most of his friends were sophomores, he was invited to
observe. At first, the initiation seemed harmless; freshmen were paddled
with straps and staves. However, things escalated quickly when the entire
freshman class appeared armed with clubs and bayonets. It took considerable
effort to disarm them, resulting in smashed heads, broken bones, and several
students ending up in the infirmary.The next morning, the commandant held a trial and decided to expel eight sophomores he identified as the ringleaders. In response, the other sophomores insisted that if eight were to be expelled, then all should face the same fate, and they signed a statement to that effect, including Bill. The following evening, it was announced that the entire sophomore class would be suspended indefinitely. Some of Bill's friends argued that he wasn't truly a sophomore and had only been a bystander. However, Bill maintained that he had signed the paper, given his word, and chose to walk out with the others.
1923: Bill W. failed a class on Equity and subsequently left Brooklyn Law School [right: Brooklyn Eagle Building, home of Brooklyn Law School, 1923].
1939:
The “well-known” psychiatrist, Dr. Howard from Montclair, New Jersey
(probably Dr. James W. Howard
[left]) proposed changes to the multilith manuscript of the Big Book,
Alcoholics Anonymous. According to Bill W.,He pointed out that the text of our book was too full of the words “you” and “must.” He suggested that we substitute wherever possible such expressions as “we ought” or “we should.” His idea was to replace all forms of coercion, to put our fellowship on a “we ought” basis instead of a “you must” basis.… I argued weakly against it but soon gave in; it was perfectly apparent that the doctor was right. Dr. Silkworth and Dr. Tiebout gave us similar advice…Jimmy Burwell told a different story:
Dr. Howard… became greatly interested and enthusiastic, but was highly critical of several things in the book, for after reading it he told us there was entirely too much “Oxfordism” and that it was too demanding. This is where the disaster nearly overtook us, for it nearly threw Bill into a terrific mental uproar to have his baby pulled apart by an outside screwball psychiatrist, who in our opinion knew nothing about alcoholism.1940: Sterling C. from Little Rock, Arkansas, had gotten sober in 1935 by following the plan outlined in Richard C. Peabody's The Common Sense of Drinking. For six months, he had worked with Harlan N. to help him stay sober. In October 1939, after reading Morris Markey's article “Alcoholics and God” in Liberty magazine, the two of them wrote to A.A. in New York City to request a copy of the Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous. Unfortunately, the book was sent to Harlan, who was drunk at the time, and it was returned.
After days of wrangling between Bill, Hank, Fitz and myself, Bill was finally convinced that all positive and must statements should be eliminated and in their place to use the word “suggest” and the expression “we found we had to.”
Later, Sterling's boss, Foster Vineyard, read about Rockefeller's dinner for A.A. in Time magazine and informed Sterling. This prompted Sterling to request another Big Book, this time having it sent directly to him. Harlan would soon sober up and then help Bud G., who was incarcerated in the “nut house” (i.e., State Hospital) for his drinking problems. Bud would read the Big Book three times and underwent a remarkable transformation. His psychiatrist, Dr. Nick Hollis, would be so impressed that he would order a second copy of the book.
In June, Sterling, Harlan, and Bud G., would found Little Rock's Central Group, the first A.A. group in Arkansas.
1940: The Alcoholics Anonymous group in Detroit, Michigan, which had started with three alcoholics and one non-alcoholic, had grown to seven members and started meeting in the basement of a non-alcoholic couple, the Bensons, on Taylor Avenue. This location was affectionately referred to as “Benson's Basement.”
The group later relocated to 4242 Cass Avenue, where it became known as the Downtown Group.
1945: The A.A. Grapevine published “Points of View: Arkansas Style,” written by Bud G., a founder of A.A. in Little Rock, Arkansas.
It all began in March, 1940, in the mind and heart of a Little Rock (trumpet playing) insurance executive, an alcoholic who had been dry for five years after reading Peabody and practicing an unlabeled brand of A.A. He had had very little success with fellow alcoholics and when he read the first notice of A.A. he sent for the book.
He roped in a furniture salesman (without wares) and a broken down (young) newspaperman who had buried himself (for keeps he thought) deep in the oblivion of the State Hospital for Nervous Diseases.
These pioneers in what Bill calls the “mail order section” went to local newspapers and obtained a modest notice in each; rented a Post Office box; began contacting ministers, police and court officials, and exploring flophouses, poolrooms, courts.
Business was brisk.
Within a few weeks the membership included 25 men and two women.
The troubles began early. Some of the men got the idea that they had joined a wet nursing organization and proceeded to turn it into one; the women turned out to be less alcoholic than unattached. One by one the members sloughed off.
Result: three months after founding, four charter members remained, two shaky.
At this time, prospects were given only the book, the weekly meeting, the offer of association, and were more or less on their own. One of the charter members drafted a program which, after several overhaulings dictated by tryouts, became known as The Little Rock Plan, or the Approach Program. The sole motive behind it was to improve effectiveness of the group's service to alcoholics.
1949:
The first Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in Glasgow and Edinburgh, Scotland,
were established with significant contributions from Sir Philip Dundas
[right], the head of one of Scotland’s oldest clans. In 1948, the Alcoholic
Foundation had registered him as a loner in Campbeltown. Earlier that
February, Sir Philip, a Scottish gentleman farmer, had gone to an
International Christian Leadership conference in the United States, where a
group of businessmen were working to integrate faith into industry by
creating breakfast prayer clubs. He believed that engaging in such positive
endeavors might help him stay off the drink. Bill W. later wrote,
At the very first session he met an old time Philadelphia A.A. member, George R., who gave him A.A. right off the spiritual main line. The head of one of Scotland’s most ancient clans sobered up on the spot. He took A.A. back to his native heath, and soon alcoholic Scots were drying up all the way from Glasgow ship chandlers to society folks in Edinburgh.
… an alcoholic who stopped drinking some four years ago on spiritual principles, but on his own and before he heard of A.A1949: Dr. John P. joined Alcoholics Anonymous and got sober. His story, “The Professor and the Paradox,” appeared in the second and third editions of the Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous.
Born in Atlanta, Georgia, John was recognized for his thick Southern accent. He described himself as naturally shy, sensitive, fearful, envious, and resentful—traits he believed contributed to both his successes and challenges. These characteristics motivated him to earn a Ph.D. and to publish extensively, partly as a way to compete with or defy others.
Professionally, John served as an English professor for 21 years at the University of Alabama before moving to Kent State University in Ohio. He became a social drinker in his early twenties without immediate problems, but his drinking escalated under life’s pressures, eventually leading to full-blown alcoholism after graduate school.
John’s alcoholism resulted in significant consequences, including a harrowing incident where he became “violently insane” during a drunken episode and ended up in jail—this served as his turning point before joining A.A. In his writings and talks, he humorously explored the ironies of alcoholism and recovery, outlining four central A.A. paradoxes:
- We surrender to win.
- We give away to keep.
- We suffer to get well.
- We die to live.
In summary, Dr. John P. was a respected academic and writer whose personal battles with alcoholism, engaging personality, and contributions through A.A. talks and writings left a lasting impact within the fellowship.









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