November 1 in A.A. History

	In 1934, Edwin “Ebby” T. [left] made his “surrender” during an Oxford Group meeting at the Calvary Church Rescue Mission [right], located at 246 E. 23rd St. in New York City.

In 1941, Oklahoma’s Oklahoma City Times published an article titled “For Drunks: A Real Cure Comes to City” [right], which reported, in part:     Seven guys who can’t take their liquor without becoming “175 pounds each of roaring hell” met in an office in the Ramsey Tower Friday night to work over the eighth guy who was roaring drunk.      It was the first mass meeting here of Alcoholics Anonymous, an organization of former drunks formed by a drunk in New York six years ago, for the purpose of curing and keeping cured the sort of drinkers who are “alergic” [sic] to alcohol.

In 1947, A.A. “Group #1” was started in Anchorage [left, 1945], Alaska, with Herman C. as its leader. It would be the first lasting group in Alaska. Jack Alexander would write in his article, “The Drunkard's Best Friend,” which would be published in The Saturday Evening Post in April 1950,
    The group at Anchorage, Alaska, which started in a blizzard, has a dozen members, including one slightly puzzled Eskimo.

In 1963, the first all-Swiss A.A. meeting, a two-day event that began on this date, brought together French- and German-speaking members. Following this gathering, the all-Swiss Bulletin would be published in both languages [right: Dec ’63 Box 4-5-9 news of all-Swiss meeting].

In 2001, the fourth edition of Alcoholics Anonymous [left: cover] (the “Big Book”) was published; it included 24 new personal stories.

In 2001, JP Miller, the pen name of James Pinckney “Pappy” Miller [right, c. early 1980s], 81, died of pneumonia in Flemington, New Jersey. He wrote the screenplay for the film Days of Wine and Roses, which starred Jack Lemmon, Lee Remick, Charles Bickford, and Jack Klugman.

In 2022, JAMA Network Open published an open-access article by Marissa B. Esser, PhD; Gregory Leung, PhD; Adam Sherk, PhD; et al., titled “Estimated Deaths Attributable to Excessive Alcohol Use Among US Adults Aged 20 to 64 Years, 2015 to 2019” [left: p. 1] . The article concluded that an estimated…

    694,660 mean deaths per year between 2015 and 2019 suggest that excessive alcohol consumption accounted for 12.9% of total deaths among adults aged 20 to 64 years and 20.3% of deaths among adults aged 20 to 49 years.

In 2024, A.A.W.S., Inc. first published the Conference-approved soft-cover Plain Language Big Book: A Tool for Reading “Alcoholics Anonymous” [right: cover].

October 31 in A.A. History

In 1939, John Henry Fitzhugh “Fitz” M. [near right] and Hardin C. [far right]—both previously designated as “loners”—started the Washington (DC) Group of A.A. at Hardin’s home. Within months, Ned F., Bill E., George S., and Steve M. joined them. [This date assumes the group began on a Tuesday, which became their regular meeting night; they may have met for the first time 1–3 days earlier.]

In 1945, Vernon F. had his last drink. Born 22 April 1895, he joined the Pasadena (California) Group and died on 18 June 1964, with 19 years of sobriety.

In 1951, the American Public Health Association presented the Lasker Award to A.A. at their Annual Meeting held at the San Francisco Opera House for “meritorious service in the public health.” Each recipient received a statuette of the Winged Victory [left]. Originally, the award was intended for Bill W., but he asked that it be given to the Fellowship instead. The Lasker Foundation agreed, and when the Alcoholic Foundation Board polled Conference delegates by mail, they also approved. The Foundation declined the accompanying $1,000 cash grant [~$12,500 in 2025].

In 1957, John Richard “Dick” S. [right] died in Stow, Ohio. He had gotten sober on 28 February 1937 and his story, “The Car Smasher,” appeared in the 1st edition of the Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous. He later rewrote it as “He Had To Be Shown” for the 2nd and 3rd editions.

In 1958, Clancy I. [below left] got sober. “I had to just get out of the rain and find a little rest,” Clancy said. “Somebody told me about a place drunks could go,” so he walked 72 blocks to a small alcohol rehabilitation center.

    He would leave a lucrative career with a Beverly Hills marketing firm to become the managing director of the Midnight Mission in downtown’s Skid Row, returning as a transformative leader to an institution that had once expelled him for bad behavior. Under his leadership, the soup kitchen and housing facilities would expand to include programs that addressed the social needs of those on Skid Row.

In 1963, Rev. Dr. Samuel Shoemaker [right], 69, died at Burnside, the family home in Green Spring Valley, Maryland, located 10 miles [~16 km] north of Baltimore. In his February 1967 A.A. Grapevine tribute titled “I Stand by the Door,” Bill W. remarked:     Dr. Sam Shoemaker was one of A.A.’s indispensables. Had it not been for his ministry to us in our early time, our Fellowship would not be in existence today.

In 1974, Sylvia K. S., 68, the first woman to achieve permanent long-term sobriety and author of “Keys to the Kingdom” in the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th editions of Alcoholics Anonymous, died in Sarasota, Florida, possibly from emphysema [left: obituary from the 1 Nov 1974 Sarasota (FL) Journal, p. 4-A]. She was 35 years sober at the time.

October 30 in A.A. History

In 1940, the first A.A. meeting in St. Louis—and in the state of Missouri—was held at the Gibson Hotel, 5883 Enright Avenue [right, c. 1940s].^* Father Ed had been contacted by F., who claimed that his son-in-law had a drinking problem. However, it turned out that F. himself was the one struggling and seeking help. With Father Ed’s support and encouragement, F. gathered four other individuals and met with them at the Gibson Hotel. In December, they would form the first A.A. group in St. Louis.

---

^*Some have suggested that this occurred after Father Edward Dowling returned to St. Louis from New York City, where he had met Bill Wilson at the 24th Street Clubhouse. However, that meeting did not take place until November 16, more than two weeks later.

In 1940, Bill W. wrote to a member in Richmond, Virginia, saying in part,

    I am always glad to say privately that some of the Oxford Group presentation and emphasis upon the Christian message saved my life. Yet it is equally true that other attitudes of the O.G. nearly got me drunk again, and we long since discovered that if we were to approach alcoholics successfully, these would have to be abandoned.

    He listed eight criticisms, including one concerning the Four Absolutes:

	… when the word “absolute” was put in front of these attributes, they either turned people away by the hundreds or gave a temporary spiritual inflation resulting in collapse. The Four Absolutes were originally published in Robert E. Speers’ The Principles of Jesus (1902) [left: 5th ed. title page].

October 29 in A.A. History

In 1881, Rowland G. Hazard, Jr. [right] was born into a prominent and immensely wealthy Rhode Island industrial family residing in a colony of estates in Peace Dale (South Kingston), Rhode Island. He was the oldest of five children born to Rowland Gibson Hazard and Mary Bushnell Hazard. An unbroken line of Hazard men named Rowland dated back to 1763. His father, grandfather, and great-great-grandfather had shared the same name, prompting him to adopt the suffix “III” to distinguish himself from his namesakes. The Hazard family’s colonial roots trace back to 1635, with its members being large landowners, manufacturers, and individuals of note in science and literature. They were widely respected as achievers and philanthropists.
    In 1934, Rowland would play a prominent role in helping Edwin “Ebby” T. get sober in the Oxford Group.

	In 1929 [Black Tuesday] The U.S. stock market crashed, leaving Bill W. broke and $60,000 in debt [~$1,100,000 in 2025]. He and his benefactor, Frank Shaw, parted ways. Later—possibly in November—Bill’s friend Dick Johnson offered him a job in Montreal with the stock brokerage firm Greenshields & Co. [left: Greenshields & Co. legal notice, in Montreal’s The Gazette, p. 26; right: Aldred Building, Montreal, Quebec—home of Greenshields and Co., 1930].     By Christmas, the W―—s would be in Canada.

In 1941, Bill W. spoke in Evansville, Indiana, praising James D. “J.D.” H. as the founder of the first A.A. group in Indiana, established in Evansville on April 23, 1940, approximately eighteen months prior.

In 1943, Don F. traveled from Omaha, Nebraska, to make a 12th-Step call on Judge Ray H. at his Des Moines office [left: Des Moines, looking east down Walnut Street from 9th Street, c. 1940s?]. Also present were Bill A. and Herbert L. It turned out that the judge had been dry on his own for a month, while Don F. had only been sober for two weeks.
    An immediate stream of lively, witty, and engaging correspondence began between Ray H. and the staff of the Alcoholic Foundation in New York City. Within a month, the letters from Iowa were printed on stationery bearing an “Alcoholics Anonymous” letterhead. Ray adopted the pseudonym “Hildegarde” and began sending the Foundation “News Flashes” and "Bedtime Stories" about the happenings in Des Moines A.A. By its third meeting, the group had grown to 17 members and secured its own P.O. box.

October 28 in A.A. History

In 1918, Bill W. [right, 1919 in France] arrived in France with Battery C, 66th Artillery, Coast Artillery Corps (C.A.C.). They would remain there until the end of the Great War (World War I) just 14 days later, on November 11 at 11:11 a.m., but would not return home until May 1919.

	In 1919, the U.S. Senate voted 65–20 to override President Wilson’s veto of the Volstead (National Prohibition) Act the day before; the House had also voted to override on the same day. Sponsored by the Chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, Representative Andrew Volstead [left] of Minnesota, the act implemented the 18th Amendment, which prohibited “intoxicating liquors” without providing a clear definition.

    Some members of Congress believed this referred only to hard liquor. However, Wayne Wheeler [right], the head of the Anti-Saloon League, who actually written the legislation, had crafted it to define intoxicating liquors as any beverage containing more than 0.5% alcohol. The legislation made it illegal to “manufacture, sell, barter, transport, import, export, deliver, furnish, or possess” such beverages, though it did not prohibit their consumption.

In 1936, William “Bill” C. [left], 36, committed suicide at the home of Bill and Lois W., located at 182 Clinton St., Brooklyn, while the couple was in Maryland visiting Fitz M and his wife.
    Bill C. had been living with the W―—s for nearly a year and had been left in charge of the house. A brilliant lawyer from Canada, he worked for a prominent law firm by day and played bridge for money by night. The W―—s had rarely seen him and did not know him as well as they did most of their other house guests. His gambling appeared to be an even greater obsession than his drinking.

    Bill W. returned home first. Upon opening the front door, he smelled gas. In the kitchen upstairs, he found Bill’s body on the floor, with a tube from the stove’s gas jet in his mouth. He had been dead for several days. Lois arrived the following day to find that Bill had already taken care of every detail [right: Daily News article from 29 Oct].
    It took several months for the W―—s to realize that Bill had been selling their personal belongings and dress clothes, which were hung in a closet near the hallway bedroom he occupied. Among the missing items were Bill’s dress suit, his evening jacket, Lois’s black velvet evening wrap lined with white velvet, and several evening gowns. Suitcases were also missing. These were the remnants of the W―—s’ once affluent lifestyle. His remorse for these thefts may have contributed to Bill’s decision to take his own life.

In 1940, Doherty “Dohr” S. [left], a retired local businessman, Irish Catholic, and devoutly religious, founded the first A.A. group in Indianapolis, Indiana. Desperate to stop drinking, Dohr had reached out to the Cleveland group for help. In response, Clarence S. had sent Irwin M. to make a 12th-step call on Dohr and guide him in starting an A.A. group.

In 1988, sociologist Milton A. Maxwell [right], PhD, 81, died. He had served as a Class A (non-alcoholic) Trustee on the General Service Board from 1971 to 1982, including the last four years as Chairman. Also, he had been an original member of the Trustees’ Archives Committee.

Today in A.A. History—October 27-31

In 2024, the 28th biennial World Service Meeting was held at the Westin at Times Square Hotel in New York City [left: Final Report cover]. The meeting’s theme was “The Three Legacies in the Digital Era: Our Great Responsibility to the Alcoholic Being Born Today.” Seventy-four delegates from forty-nine General Service structures were represented:

Argentina	Australia	Belgium (Dutch-Speaking)	Bolivia	Bulgaria	Brazil	Central America/Southern Zone
Chile	Colombia	Czech Republic	Denmark	Dominican Republic	Ecuador	Finland
French-Speaking Europe	German-Speaking Europe	Great Britain	Greece	Guatemala	Honduras	Hong Kong
Hungary	Iceland	India	Iran	Ireland	Italy	Japan
Latvia	Lithuania	Mexico	Netherlands	New Zealand	Norway	Paraguay
Peru	Poland	Portugal	Romania	Russia	Slovakia	Slovenia
South Africa	Spain	Sweden	Turkey	U.S./Canada	Uruguay	Venezuela

October 26 in A.A. History

In 1937, Dr. Leonard V. Strong [near right], brother-in-law of Bill W. [middle right], married to Bill’s sister Dorothy, wrote him a letter introducing Bill to Rev. Williard S. Richardson [far right]:

Dear Mr. Richardson,
    This will serve to introduce my brother-in-law, Mr. William W—–, of whom I spoke in our telephone conversation yesterday.
    His work with alcoholics appears very effective and I think merits your interest and possibly that of the Rockefeller Foundation.
Your courtesy in seeing him is greatly appreciated by me, and I regret my inability to be present.

    Bill would meet Richardson shortly afterward in his 56th-floor office in the RCA building. Richardson was warmly cordial; Bill described him as “an elderly gentleman who had twinkling eyes set in one of the finest faces I have ever seen.” He showed deep interest as Bill shared his own story and that of the struggling Fellowship.

In 1939 , the Cleveland Plain Dealer (Ohio) published the final article [left] in Elrick B. Davis’s five-part series titled “Alcoholics Anonymous Makes Its Stand Here.” It read, in part,

    It is hard for the skeptical to believe that no one yet has found a way to muscle into Alcoholics Anonymous, the informal society of ex-drunks that exists only to cure each other, and make a money-making scheme of it. Or that someone will not. 
    The complete informality of the society seems to be what has saved it from that. Members pay no dues. The society has no paid staff. Parties are “Dutch.” Meetings are held at the homes of members who have houses large enough for such gatherings, or in homes of persons who may not be alcoholics but are sympathetic with the movement.

			In 1939, the Alcoholic Foundation in New York City, presumably Ruth Hock [far left], wrote a letter to John “Fitz” M. [middle left], a “loner” living in Washington, DC. The letter referred another Washington “loner,” Hardin C. [near left?], to Fitz. Within days, the Washington Group of A.A., the first in that city, will be established out of the contact between these two men.

October 25 in A.A. History

In 1939, the Cleveland Plain Dealer (Ohio) published the fourth article [right] in Elrick B. Davis’s five-part series titled “Alcoholics Anonymous Makes Its Stand Here.” It read, in part,

    What gets the pathological drinker who finally has reached such state that he is willing to listen to a cured rummy member of Alcoholics Anonymous, is that the retrieved alcoholic not only understands what only another alcoholic can understand, but a great deal that the unreformed drunk thinks no one else could know because he has never told anyone, and his difficulties or escapades must be private to his own history.
    Fact is the history of all alcoholics is the same; some have been addicts longer than others, and some have painted brighter red patches around the town — that is all. What they have heard in the “cure” hospitals they have frequented, or from the psychoanalysts they have consulted, or the physicians who have tapered them off one bender or another at home, has 
has convinced them that alcoholism is a disease. But they are sure (a) that their version of the disease differs from everyone else’s and (b) that in them it hasn’t reached the incurable stage anyway.…
    He presents his excuses to the retrieved alcoholic who has come to talk. Can’t sleep without liquor. Worry. Business troubles. Debt. Alimentary pains. Overwork. Nerves too high strung. Grief. Disappointment. Deep dark phobic fears. Fatigue. Family difficulties. Loneliness.
    The catalog has got no farther than that when the member of Alcoholics Anonymous begins rattling off an additional list.
    “Hogwash,” he says. “Don’t try those alibis on me. I have used them all myself.”

October 24 in A.A. History

In 1939, the Cleveland Plain Dealer (Ohio) published the third article [right] in Elrick B. Davis's five-part series, “Alcoholics Anonymous Makes Its Stand Here.” It read, in part,

    The ex-drunks cured of their medically incurable alcoholism by membership in Alcoholic Anonymous, know that the way to keep themselves from backsliding is to find another pathological alcoholic to help. Or to start a new man toward cure. That is the way that the Akron chapter of the society, and from that, the Cleveland fellowship was begun.
    One of the earliest of the cured rummies had talked a New York securities house into taking a chance that he was really through with liquor. He was commissioned to do a stock promotion chore in Akron. If he should succeed, his economic troubles also would be cured. Years of alcoholism had left him bankrupt as well as a physical and social wreck before Alcoholics Anonymous had saved him.
    His Akron project failed. Here he was on a Saturday afternoon in a strange hotel in a town where he did not know a soul, business hopes blasted, and with scarcely money enough to get him back to New York with a report that would leave him without the last job he knew of for him in the world. If ever disappointment deserved drowning, that seemed the time. 

	In 1943, Bill and Lois W. [left] left home for their first major A.A. tour. Bill called it their “trip to the coast” and they stopped in at least three places: Los Angeles, California; Portland, Oregon, where they “looked in on Doc H., an Oregon chiropractor who was struggling with the alkies in Portland;” and Seattle, Washington, where they “first met businessman Dale A. [right], who with real valor was trying hard to hold a small band together.”

    Bill and Lois returned home 87 days later, on January 19.

In 1973, the newly created Trustee’s Archives Committee held its first meeting. The committee consisted of alcoholic (Class B) General Service Trustee George G. as chair, two non-alcoholic (Class A) Trustees—Rev. Lee Archer Belford and Dr. Milton A. Maxwell—and Archivist Nell Wing, who had been appointed A.A.’s first Archivist in the year before.

October 23 in A.A. History

In 1939, the Cleveland Plain Dealer (Ohio) published the second article [right] in Elrick B. Davis’s series of five, titled “Alcoholics Anonymous Makes Its Stand Here.” It read, in part,

    There is no blinking the fact that Alcoholics Anonymous, the amazing society of ex-drunks who have cured each other of an incurable disease, is religious. Its members have cured each other frankly with the help of God. Every cured member of the Cleveland Fellowship of the society, like every cured member of the other chapters now established in Akron, New York, and elsewhere in the country, is cured with the admission that he submitted his plight wholeheartedly to a Power Greater than Himself.

In 1940, Dr. Gilbert “Gib” K., a dentist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, reached out to the Alcoholic Foundation in New York City for help, becoming the first alcoholic contact in that city.
Gentlemen,

    Recently there has been called to my attention an article which appeared in the May 17, 1940 issue of the “Green Sheet” of the Milwaukee Journal that interests me very much. Several lengthy columns are there devoted to a general description of your unique attack, or rather approach, in the direction: “alcoholism.” Since the common sense method employed by your “Foundation” seems more nearly to solve my own personal problem than any other I have heard of, I am moved to write you for a little further information. Is there an active group or “chapter” located here in Milwaukee whom I might contact? If not, any other details you may wish to offer me will be greatly appreciated.

    In December, the Foundation replied that there was “no A.A. Fellowship in Milwaukee or its immediate vicinity; the closest to you being located at Madison, Wisconsin or Chicago, Illinois.” They invited him to write again if he wanted contact information.

Supporting A.A. in Ukraine

[Note that this post was written in March 2022, shortly after the full-scale invasion of the Ukraine by the Russian Federation.]

An A.A. friend sent me a very well-done flyer for an online A.A. meeting in Kyiv, Ukraine. It's shown to the left, but I've removed the Meeting ID and Passcode; I don't want to make it that  easy to attend. When I first saw it, I thought, "I only wish that we could do something similar for all the Russian alcoholics, who must also be terribly distressed at this time" (especially those in the Russian military).

This flyer was immediately followed by a less well-done message, shown below, purporting to be from "Ukrainian AA Service Center and the Ukrainian AA Service Board" to "the AA World Community." I was skeptical. This looked so much like a myth that I expected to find it debunked at Snopes ("the internet’s definitive fact-checking resource"). I did not. But I did find an article titled, "UKRAINE: New Crisis, Grimly Familiar Disinformation Trends", which said, in part, 

It is a grim measure of the frequency of crisis events in recent years, and the ubiquity of online disinformation, that when a major story breaks — a terrorist attack, a mass shooting, or an act of war — the writers and editors at Snopes can typically predict what comes next. Recycled videos and photographs, stripped from their proper context, and the same old tropes, all designed to inflame or confuse, or even amuse, the reader.

This is followed by a "grim overview of the familiar disinformation trends and recurring memes… in the opening days of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine."

But, as I said, I only later looked on Snopes. First I searched the Internet. To my surprise, I immediately got a hit that looked very promising. It was on the aa.lviv.ua website and looked like this:

Since I don't know what I presumed was Ukrainian, and not having much patience, I immediately had the page automatically translated into English. It is indeed Ukrainian, and here's the English translation I got:

It was only later that I noticed that an English translation of the message follows the Ukrainian on the original, one click further down. I felt stupid and impatient for not looking.

Ultimately, I decided I'd check into the Kyiv online meeting and see if there was some way I could be helpful. I tried to log in a few minutes before it was to start. Due to the meeting having reached capacity, it was impossible to get in. It then occurred to me, If I'm having this much trouble getting in, there are probably Ukrainians who are also unable to get in. It horrified me to think that I could have had a part in disrupting their meeting. If, by some miracle, I had been able to get in, I sure hope I would have realized that the meeting was at capacity and left. But even if I had, my spot would have been filled by a non-Ukrainian.

I tried joining after the meeting was over. It was bedlam. It appeared that most people were unmuted and there were multiple conversations going on at the same time. I saw one man, who appeared to be that single Ukrainian member. He appeared to be quite stressed out. I also saw some A.A.friends of mine, which was disappointing. I only stayed a minute. The last thing they needed at that point was yet one more non-Ukrainian A.A. to join the fray.

Tonight, I learned from a reliable source that only one of the seven or eight regular Ukrainian group members was able to get into the meeting (presumably, the Zoom host). No doubt, many of the attendees had good intentions, although I'm also pretty sure some did not. Clearly, many also didn't think through the consequences of their actions.

And then, very late last night, My friend said that another friend of hers had found a Facebook post about the A.A. meeting in Kyiv earlier, shown at the left. It was so disheartening to read. Yes, many non-Ukrainians—maybe hundreds of them—got to feel good for a minute. Meanwhile, seven or eight locals never got to their meeting.

God As We Understand Him?

 I recently read Bill W.'s essay, “God As We Understand Him: The Dilemma of No Faith”, in The Language of the Heart (originally published as “The Dilemma of No Faith” in the April 1961 issue of the A.A. Grapevine). He begins this essay by saying, “The phrase ‛God As We Understand Him’ is perhaps the most important expression to be found in our whole AA vocabulary.”

For a long time, I've been vaguely uncomfortable with this wording, even though I knew what it meant the first time I heard it. In the last few years, but not in my early sobriety, I've sometimes heard newcomers asking about this expression, “How can anyone understand God?”  in a way that led me to think that perhaps this was an impediment for them. I realized my discomfort is just that. Perhaps understanding is not the best word. I think “God As We Conceive of God” is closer to the intended meaning. It will be interesting to see how the proposed plain language Big Book^* (i.e., Alcoholics Anonymous) will deal with this phrase. If at all.

---

^* If you don't know what this is or what it means, check out Advisory Action #28 (on p 7) in this document: Conference Advisory Actions of the 71st General Service Conference, a list of all such actions adopted at the 71st General Service Conference last April.

19,560 days

Yes, I am still sober, still above ground. My posts slowed down drastically and then stopped altogether because I feared it would become too easy to identify who I was from my posts, due to circumstances of my life. Already, my brother had figured out this was me. For those who don't realize it, I was doing my best to respect Tradition 12. My brother already knew I was a deeply involved member of A.A.

Future posts will probably be less personal, on the whole. I hope this is, at least in part, because I have less interest in myself and more interest in others [v. Alcoholics Anonymous, p 84].

A.A. in these times of pandemic has been a great experience for me personally. Since mid-March 2020, I've attended online meetings on every continent that has them (Antarctica does not, due to insufficient bandwidth). I've been regularly attending meetings all over the US and Canada, as well as in Australia and South Africa. It has also become much easier to find workshops, conventions, conferences, and meetings that focus on topics like Traditions, Concepts, The A.A. Service Manual, and A.A. history. These are topics that I love learning about. I've been sober almost 29 years, been involved in General Service for 25½ of those years, but I sometimes think I've learned more about General Service in the last 16 months than in all the time before. Maybe not. Maybe it just feels that way.

Eighteen years

Still here, still sober, even if I'm not posting. Yesterday I celebrated 18 years of continuous sobriety.

Seventeen years

Yesterday was the 17th anniversary of my first A.A. meeting, which marked the beginning of my current spell of continuous sobriety. I can't say I celebrated, because I was too busy doing things that are little more than the blessings of a sober life:

• Took my car in to have the oil changed and the engine light checked—I not only have a driver's license, I also have a car
• Worked—I am employable today
• Chaired a meeting of the local chapter of a professional organization—not only employed, but on the Board of Directors and also Program Chair
• Attended a funeral

The funeral, ironically enough, was for Bumblebee, someone I sponsored for a while. I suspect I was his last sponsor. I hadn't seem him in at least a year, and sometimes wondered if he named me when asked if he had a sponsor. Then I would wonder if he was even making meetings.

Apparently not. He was definitely out there. He committed suicide by stabbing himself to death in the parking lot of the apartment complex where he lived. In the femoral artery. Thank you, Bumblebee, for keeping it green for me on my anniversary.

Tonight I will celebrate with dinner and a meeting! Praise HP, from whom all blessings flow!