August 2 in A.A. History

1892: Lawrence Richmond “Rich” W. [right, as an adult] was born to Caroline and Joseph Richmond W. in Brookline, Massachusetts. He was the second of six children, with two brothers and three sisters.

In May 1942, Rich got sober and joined Alcoholics Anonymous. He self-published his book, Twenty-Four Hours a Day (also known as “The Little Black Book”) [left: cover and pages 2–3], in 1948. He later wrote For Drunks Only (1987) and The 7 Points of Alcoholics Anonymous (1989).

August in A.A. History—day unknown

1918: While his artillery regiment was delayed outside Winchester, Hampshire, England, by a minor epidemic among the troops, Bill W. [right: in France, 1919] walked alone to Winchester Cathedral. In his “Original Story”—actually the second draft of “Bill’s Story”—he would describe what happened:

I stood in Winchester Cathedral the day before crossing [into France] with head bowed, for something had touched me then I had never felt before. I had been wondering, in a rare moment of sober reflection, what sense there could be to killing and carnage of which I was soon to become an enthusiastic part. Where could the Deity be—could there be such a thing—Where now was the God of the preachers, the thought of which used to make me so uncomfortable when they talked about him. Here I stood on the edge of the abyss into which thousands were falling that very day. A feeling of despair settled down on me—where was He—why did he not come—and suddenly in that moment of darkness, He was there. I felt an all enveloping, comforting, powerful presence. Tears stood in my eyes, and as I looked about, I saw on the faces of others nearby, that they too had glimpsed the great reality. Much moved, I walked out into the Cathedral yard, where I read the following inscription on a tombstone [left]. “Here lies a Hampshire Grenadier, Who caught his death drinking small good beer—A good soldier is ne’er forgot, whether he dieth by musket or by pot.” A squadron of bombers swept overhead in the bright sunlight, and I cried to myself “Here’s to adventure” and the feeling of being in the great presence disappeared, never to return for many years.

1919: Bill and Lois W. embarked on a month-long walking tour, covering several hundred miles from Portland, Maine, through New Hampshire, to Rutland, Vermont [right: portion of 1916 map showing Portland and Rutland]. Lois encouraged this journey to provide them with time for reflection and to help Bill not to drink so heavily.

After leaving the Army, Bill found it difficult to adapt to civilian life, where drinking was typically confined to evenings and weekends, and moderation was expected. He struggled to find a job, where most of them demanded a consistent routine, performing the same tasks at the same time, in the same location, every day. He held various short-lived positions: decoding cablegrams for an exporter [far left: coded cablegram, 1917], clerking in the insurance department of the New York Central Railroad for Lois’s sister Barbara’s fiancé [right: office workers, 1920], and later driving spikes into planks on a pier for the railroad [near left: pier construction]. Not surprisingly, he either resigned or was dismissed from each of these jobs.

To calm his nerves and to escape into dreams of glory, Bill increasingly turned to alcohol, a habit he had developed in the Army. Now, however, he also drank to wallow in self-pity and nurse his resentments, often drinking until closing time, which frequently resulted in vomiting and blackouts.

1935: [Early September?] Phil S., A.A. #5, joined the Oxford Group’s “alcoholic squadron” in Akron, Ohio, where he likely met Bill W. just before Bill’s return to Brooklyn, New York. However, Phil did not achieve sobriety until weeks later, after undergoing the customary 8-day treatment at Akron City Hospital.

Upon Phil’s release, Ernie G. [right] picked him up to help search for his lost car, which Phil had misplaced while drunk. During this outing, Phil stopped “to get a milkshake” and returned drunk just 15 minutes later. Shortly thereafter, he was arrested as a vagrant and sentenced to 30 days in the workhouse.

At that time, Bill D. [far left], A.A. #3 and a practicing attorney, successfully persuaded the judge to release Phil into the custody of Dr. Bob S. [near left] under strict conditions. Phil, now A.A. #6, quickly agreed and was taken to a local drying-out facility. This event marked Alcoholics Anonymous’s first court case.

After one more slip two years later, Phil remained sober for the rest of his life.

August 1 in A.A. History

1993: The General Service Office (GSO) in New York City began distributing group and contribution information on 3½" floppy disks [left] to General Service Areas that maintained digital records. This initiative stemmed from a GSO management task force dedicated to reviewing and enhancing records-keeping procedures.
In April, during breaks at the 43rd General Service Conference, delegates attended a presentation of new computer software. Two non-alcoholic GSO staff members demonstrated the package, which allowed technologically equipped areas to access group records directly from the GSO mainframe (an IBM AS/400 Model 40) [right: against the wall in upper right quadrant].

August in A.A. History—day unknown

1907: Bill W.’s grandparents, Fayette and Ella Griffith, had been raising Bill and his sister Dorothy for about a year when Fayette [left] offhandedly remarked to 11-year-old Bill [right, c. 1905], “It’s an odd thing, I’ve been reading a good deal about Australia lately and no one seems to know why Australians are the only people in the world who are able to make a boomerang.”

Bill was taken aback. “The only people?”

The following day, Bill borrowed two books about Australia from the library. That night, he went to bed with the second volume of the Ency-clopedia Britannica, which featured several columns on the history, uses, and design of a boomerang.

On Saturday, he visited a local French woodcutter and spent the entire afternoon talking to him. This led to more books and conversations with other Frenchmen about the types of wood best suited for shaping a weapon three feet long and weighing no more than eight ounces [~227 g].

As summer turned to fall, every scrap of paper in the house was covered with diagrams and calculations. Bill spent increasing amounts of time in the shed next to the house, where the sounds of sawing, carving, and whittling became constant. What had begun as a mere interest evolved into an obsession. Chores were neglected, the cow was never milked on time, eggs were seldom collected, and in November, a note arrived from Miss Milot, his teacher. She expressed her concern: Bill was failing all his classes.

Now his grandmother was worried. She believed it was plain silly and unnatural. After reading some of his books, she concluded that a returning boomerang was no toy; it was a deadly weapon that could harm both the thrower and the target. She spoke sternly to Willie, as they affectionately called him, as did his grandfather.

Fayette nodded, agreeing to talk to the boy, but believed the time to worry would be when Bill decided to give up and admit failure.

1914: Bill W. traveled to British Columbia to visit his father, Gilman “Gilly” Barrows W. [right]. This was their first meeting in eight years and nine months, as Gilly had deserted his family when Bill was nine years old. During his visit, Bill also met Christine Bock, the woman his father would marry.