August 15 in A.A. History

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.