August 19 in A.A. History

In 1936, after attending the Olympic Games in Berlin, where he met Heinrich Himmler but failed to meet Adolf Hitler, Frank Buchman [right: in Miama, Florida (1936)] sailed for New York City.

In 1941, the first A.A. meeting in Denver, Colorado [left: aerial view of business district, 1920s], was held at the home of Sarah McP. and was attended by 11 people.

    This gathering followed the March 1941 publication of Jack Alexander’s article, “Alcoholics Anonymous: Freed Slaves of Drink, Now They Free Others,” in The Saturday Evening Post. Inspired by the article, a Denver alcoholic named Venard F. traveled to Houston, Texas, to observe the local A.A. group's practices. He brought back a Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous, along with some pamphlets. He then published an article in a local newspaper, including his P.O. Box number. It is likely that the attendees at the first meeting were from among those who had responded to Venard’s article.

In 1941, the Finance Committee of the Central Group Committee held a meeting in Cleveland, Ohio. The minutes suggested that

    … the representatives of the groups that they in turn propose to their respective group that they deposit with the Finance Committee the Sum of one dollar each week beginning January 1st 1942.

The minutes continued by stating that…

    Such funds are to be used for the purpose of defraying normal expenses of the Central Committee Group such as P.O. box rental, postage and such other incidental expenses as may be required… [And to] make contributions to the [Alcoholic] Foundation in New York and such other charities as may be recommended to the finance committee by the various groups and approved by the finance committee.

In 1981, the United States Postal Service (USPS) issued a special 18¢ [~64¢ in 2025] stamp [right], featuring the message, “Alcoholism/You Can Beat It!” Nearly 100 million (97,535,000) of these stamps were printed. Some mistakenly claimed that this was a slogan used by Alcoholics Anonymous. The stamp generated controversy, as many worried that recipients might

    that recipients might interpret the message as a suggestion that the sender was questioning their drinking habits. This public reluctance to use the stamp highlighted the deep-seated stigma surrounding addiction.

    At that time, the cost of sending a first-class letter weighing no more than 1 oz [~28⅓ g] was 18¢, although this price would increase to 20¢ just 74 days later. Today, a mint condition version of this stamp sells for about 85¢.

August 18 in A.A. History

In 1938, the second meeting of the Alcoholic Foundation Board took place in the office of A. LeRoy Chipman [left] at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. During this meeting, the board decided to transfer the remaining $2,150 [~$49,000 in 2025] from the fund established by Rockefeller to the Alcoholic Foundation to support A.A. efforts in Akron. Additionally, they agreed to provide Dr. Bob S. [right] with $200 [~$4,600 in 2025] per month from September 1938 to April 1939.

Today in A.A. History—August 18–21

In 1988, around 5,000 people attended the 1st Canadian National Alcoholics Anonymous Convention at the Halifax Metro Centre in Halifax, Nova Scotia [right: aerial view from the east, c. early 1980s]. In 2014, the facility was renamed the Scotiabank Centre.

August in A.A. History—day unknown

In 1919, Bill and Lois W. set off on a month-long walking tour, covering several hundred miles from Portland, Maine, through New Hampshire, to Rutland, Vermont. Lois encouraged this journey to give them time to think and to help Bill get off the booze.
    After leaving the Army, Bill struggled to adjust to civilian life, where drinking was typically reserved for evenings and weekends and moderation was expected. He faced the challenge of finding a job that required him to do the same thing during the same hours at the same time in the same place every day. He decoded cablegrams [below left: coded cablegram, 1917] for an exporter, clerked [below center: office workers, 1920] in the insurance department of the New York Central Railroad for Lois’s sister Barbara’s fiancé, and later worked for the railroad again, driving spikes [below right: pier construction] into planks on a pier. None of these jobs lasted long; he either quit or was fired from each job. 
    To calm his nerves and to escape into dreams of glory, Bill increasingly turned to alcohol, as he had done in the Army. However, now feeling sorry for himself, he also drank to nurse his resentments, often pushing himself to drink until closing time, which sometimes led to vomiting and blackouts.

 

In 1937, Bill and Lois W. [right] and other members of their small band of recovering alcoholics stopped attending meetings of the Oxford Group (OG) in New York City. 

    OG members had criticized Bill for working only with alcoholics, describing both Bill and Lois as “not maximum”—the ultimate OG put-down—and leaders had forbidden alcoholics staying at Calvary Rescue Mission from attending “drunk squad” meetings at 182 Clinton Street in Brooklyn. This happened while Sam Shoemaker [left] was on vacation.

    Similarly, in Akron, Ohio, OG members who were not part of the “alcoholic squadron” criticized OG meetings led by T. Henry and Clarace Williams [right] for focusing too much on helping alcoholics. This marked the beginning of A.A.’s separation from outside affiliation and laid the groundwork for Tradition Six. Nevertheless, the Akron “alcoholic squadron” would remain affiliated with the OG for more than two years. 

 

 

In 1939, Herbert “Bert” T. [left], a member of A.A. in New York City, pledged his fashionable 5th Ave. tailor shop—already heavily mortgaged due to his drinking—as collateral for a $1,000 [~$23,000 in 2025] loan to Works Publishing.
    Bill W. was desperate to keep the business afloat until the article “Alcoholics and God,” edited by Fulton Oursler, was published in Liberty magazine. To secure the funds, Bert reached out to a wealthy client, a Mr. Cochran, in Baltimore, Maryland, who was sympathetic to A.A. Bert explained the situation and requested a loan. Cochran hesitated. When Bert suggested that he buy stock in Works Publishing, Cochran expressed even more doubt and, after reviewing the balance sheet, declined the offer. Finally, Bert proposed co-signing a loan, which Cochran enthusiastically accepted. 

    Bill later wrote, “This probably saved the book company.” The magazine article would be published on September 30 [right: magazine cover]; it would generate 800 inquiries and result in sufficient book sales to sustain Works Publishing through 1939. Unfortunately, Bert’s tailor shop would go broke within a year or two.[Some sources date this loan to December 6, but that date makes no sense.] 

August 16 in A.A. History

In 1939 [Aug 18?], Dr. Robert “Bob” S. [right] and Sister Ignatia [left] (née Bridget Della Mary Gavin) facilitated the first admission of an alcoholic to St. Thomas Hospital [below right] in Akron, Ohio, using Dr. Bob’s diagnostic guise of “acute gastritis.”

     At that time, alcoholism was viewed as a moral failing rather than a disease, leading hospitals to generally deny admission to alcoholics due to a policy of “not treating drunks.” In fact, Sister Ignatia later vividly recalled a day when she had come…

    … to the [hospital’s] Chapel for prayer shortly after five one morning, only to be met by the night supervisor, who told me in unmistakable terms that the next time I admitted a D.T. [delirium tremens case] to the hospital, I had better stay up all night and run around the corridors after him.

    The first patient admitted was Walter B. “a notorious alcoholic and a regular consumer of paregoric.” His story, “The Back-Slider,” would later appear in the first edition of the Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous, as would that of his non-alcoholic wife, Marie, titled “An Alcoholic’s Wife.”
    This marked the beginning of the partnership between Dr. Bob and Sister Ignatia at St. Thomas, which became the first religious institution to welcome Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.). It would eventually have an entire wing dedicated to the treatment of alcoholism. Sister Ignatia later said, “I was pretty well governed by whatever Doctor said as to the length of the stay and type of treatment.” Dr. Bob, however, could never remember the hospital's policy, nor did he ever ask. Before his death in 1950, he and Sister Ignatia had cared for 4,800 alcoholics. A similar arrangement was made by the New York City group with Knickerbocker Hospital, but not until 1945.
    Initially, Sister Ignatia had no idea that Dr. Bob was a recovering alcoholic himself. However, he would later disclose his own past problems with alcohol and his recent recovery.

In 1987, Russian alcoholics established “Московские Начинающие” (Moscow Beginners), the first official Alcoholics Anonymous group in Russia [left: Moscow, 1987].

August 15 in A.A. History

In 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, best known 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 attended—it is unclear whether he enrolled—universities in various cities, including Leipzig, Berlin, and Grenoble, focusing on philosophy, ethnography, psychoanalysis, and cultural anthropology. However, it appears he never received a degree or doctorate, only honorary appointments.

    His time in Hungary ended under dramatic circumstances, marked by an arrest warrant issued in four languages. Although the details are unclear, reports suggested he embezzled half a billion koronas (crowns) [left: 1,000 kr note, 1920], which today would be about $1.3 million US. He was forced to leave the country in 1920, and sensational newspaper articles were published about him, with the arrest warrant remaining active for ten years.

    The next decade of his life is practically undocumented. He may have worked for a shipping company in Sierra Leone under the alias Nikita Hartmann, and records from his daughter imply that he engaged in barter and cooking during his time in Africa. After 1926, Jellinek moved to Honduras, where he worked as an agricultural engineer for United Fruit Company and later became its director of research there. By 1929, he had arrived in the U.S., working in the banana company’s Boston office, where he completed a book on banana diseases published under a name like “A. N. Hartman” or “Nikita Hartmann” [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 life at Worcester Hospital [left, 2007], primarily working with schizophrenic patients. He contributed to a vast collection of over 500 million data points, which formed the basis for a five-point schizophrenia rating scale.

    In 1939, he shifted his focus to alcoholism at New York University’s medical schools, where he was tasked with collecting and organizing previously published works on alcohol. This scientific review laid the groundwork for the professional literature collection now at Rutgers University (moved there from the Yale Institute of Alcohol Studies in 1962). Jellinek emerged as a prominent figure in alcoholology, culminating in an award named in his honor—one of the most prestigious recognitions in the field. He also became a practicing biostatistician, physiologist, and alcoholism researcher, fluent in nine languages and proficient in four others.

He wrote The Disease Concept of Alcoholism [left: cover, 1st ed., 1st pr.] and created a table [right, Aug 1952], illustrating the progression of alcoholism from “occasional relief drinking” to “obsessive drinking continues in vicious circles.” It would be converted to a curve named after Jellinek, even though he disavowed it. Dr. Max Glatt [left, 1990] modified it [right] in 1958 to include a recovery element, 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.

In 1938 [16th?], Archibald “Archie” T. [right], who would have his last drink on September 3rd, later spoke about his activities in the days leading up to that day:

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. 

In 1940, Clinton “Duke” P. of Toledo, Ohio, was admitted to Akron City Hospital with a diagnosis of “acute gastritis.” Akron’s A.A. members visited him there and he sobered up, never to drink again. 

In 1941, the Cuyahoga Central Committee of Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) held its second meeting, with the notice written 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 this meeting, Clarence was ousted as chairperson 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 from various groups in the Cleveland area. Committee members were to serve a term of three months, or until the chairman’s term expires, or until the chairman replaced them.
    One of Clarence’s ideas, borrowed from Abby, was the “rotation” of officers, intended to ensure an equal and representative voice within the fellowship. Additionally, the meeting 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., whom Clarence sponsored before he moved to Texas and helped start A.A. there.

August in A.A. History—day unknown

In 1907, Bill Wilson’s grandfather, Fayette Griffith [left], who, along with his wife Ella, had been raising Bill and his sister Dorothy for about a year, offhandedly remarked to 11-year-old Bill [right], “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 Encyclopedia 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.

 

In 1918, while his artillery regiment was delayed outside Winchester, Hampshire, England, by a minor epidemic among the troops, Bill Wilson [left: in France] walked alone to Winchester Cathedral. In his so-called “Original Story”—which is actually his 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 [right]. “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. 

August 13 in A.A. History

In 1944, the Press-Telegram of Long Beach, California, published an article [right] titled “Famous Organization of Rehabilitated Alcoholics Has 100 Members Here,” highlighting the success of Alcoholics Anonymous in Southern California. 

August 12 in A.A. History

In 1918, Bill W. arrived in Nexon, France, with his unit, Company C of the 66th Coastal Artillery Corps, U.S. Army. They were scheduled to remain there for training until September 27 [right: Company C soldiers at Chalus, France, 1918].

In 1958, Bill W. replied to a letter from Howard:

Dear Howard,
    Thanks deeply for your highly interesting letter of July 29th. I was thrilled by your account of the Old Timers meeting with the vast sobriety record that it portended. And also your observations on our 50%-25%-25% claim.^*
    I think you have something when you say that perhaps we give false hope to the newcomer by those figures. Actually, those figures have never been intended to apply to all drunks who come within range of A.A. and attend a meeting or so. They apply to those who really come in and take the treatment over a considerable period of time. On that narrow classification, I think the figures will stand up. In Philadelphia, for example, they kept records for a very long time, accurate ones. Not too long ago they case up figures on old timers which seemed to prove our claimed percentages. When the new edition of the A.A. book came out, the same thing happened. The story-tellers had better than the claimed percentage. So I think it ought to be emphasized with each newcomer that his chances are just as the figures say, provided he will jump into A.A. and is willing and capable of working at it.
    There is another angle, too. As you say, an awful lot of these people get hospitalized, attend a few meetings and then disappear. What becomes of them?
    Probably you've heard me tell the story about a group of 75 of these people that Lois and I once picked out of old address books from the very early days. Over the years, we located more than 60 of them. The 60 had returned to A.A. and most of them had made the grade. Some had been drunk 3, 5, 7, and 10 years. Finally, they were driven back on the do-or-die basis and really got the pitch. So our over-all claims are not excessive in my judgment.
    At the office, they continue to get wonderful reports of the change in feeling in your area about the Third Legacy, General Headquarters, and even about me! It is one of the most comforting and gratifying happenings that I can remember in my long A.A. live [sic]. Again, Howard, many thanks to you and to all those who have made this possible.
    Devotedly,
    Bill

---

^*See “Foreword to Second Edition,” Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th edition, p. xx.

August 11 in A.A. History

In 1937, Paul [right] and Hildreth S. from Akron, Ohio, arrived in Brooklyn for a visit with Bill and Lois W. They would leave on 15 August.

In 1938, the Trustees of the Alcoholic Foundation—Frank Amos [far left], Willard Richardson [center left], and Bill R. [near left]—held their first meeting. John Wood was unable to attend; Dr. Bob S.^* had sent a handwritten proxy letter authorizing Richardson to vote on his behalf, adding, “I instruct him, however, to vote for Mr. Frank B. Amos for Treasurer of said Foundation.”
    The six-day delay in officially establishing the Foundation was due to the time it took to mail the “Trust Indenture” document to Dr. Bob for his signature and notarization, which occurred on the 10th. The signed package from Dr. Bob arrived in New York City on the meeting date.
    

The Trustees met at the Honors Dealers office on the 6th floor of 17 Williams St. in Newark, New Jersey, where Ruth Hock [right], a secretary at Honor Dealers at the time, provided administrative assistance. At this first meeting, Frank Amos asked Hank P. to provide an update on their progress. Hank reported the following statistics on the “Eastern Section”:

    41    alcoholics recovered (“Definite on the ball” per Hank)
      6    alcoholics in the questionable class
    12    hopeless alcoholics (“so difficult practically denied” per Hank)
    10    alcoholics recovered but out of touch
    25    prospects 

     The Foundation and its office would eventually be known as the General Service Board and General Service Office, respectively. Ruth Hock would later become A.A.’s first National Secretary.

---

^*Dr. Bob did not attend any of the official Board of Trustees meetings during the critical period of 1938.

August 10 in A.A. History

In 1940, with the outbreak of World War II, Cmdr. Junious C. [left] was recalled to the Navy to serve as the First Executive Officer in charge of the Aviation Trades Schools at the soon-to-be-commissioned Naval Air Station in Jacksonville, Florida [right, 1943].

    An Annapolis graduate from the Class of 1918 and a native of McComb, Mississippi, he had retired to Pasadena, California. One reason for his early retirement had been his excessive drinking. In Pasadena, his wife, Marie, had learned about a new organization called Alcoholics Anonymous and reached out to the Alcoholic Foundation in New York City for assistance. Ruth Hock provided her with the address of the Los Angeles Group, where Marie bought a copy of the Big Book. Junious found sobriety in the Los Angeles group and maintained it for several months, eventually becoming a key figure in the establishment of A.A. in Florida.

In 2015, to commemorate the 125th anniversary of the birth of E. M. “Bunky” Jellinek [left], Judit Hajnal Ward posted an editorial in the Jellinek Special Anniversary issue of the Center of Alcohol Studies (CAS) Information Services Newsletter. Co-authored by Judit H. Ward and William Bejarano, the piece was posted to the “Secrets from the Past” blog within the Rutgers University Alcohol Studies Archive. It included the following reflection:

    In remembrance of Jellinek, the first questions should be, as suggested by Thelma Pierce Anderson, Jellinek’s ex-wife, 

    Which Jellinek are we talking about? Bunky, the man? Bunky, the scientist? Bunky, the humanitarian? Bunky, the screwball? Bunky, the kind? the ruthless? the genius? (Anderson to Keller, August 22, 1984)

    This special issue of the Center of Alcohol Studies Information Services Newsletter aims to present Jellinek’s colorful personality through his own words, deeds, and scholarship, coupled with thoughts and opinions from some leaders of the field. Our goal is to show that Jellinek was everything but the average researcher. Letters, memories, and articles (by him and about him) outline a controversial scholar. He might have been scorned by many and idolized by others, but no one could just ignore him and what he did, whether as a charming gambler in Hungary or an alcohol scientist in the United States.
E. M. Jellinek more than others, saw “the big picture” regarding what was necessary to establish a beachhead for mainstream science’s cultural “ownership” of the nation’s alcohol-related concerns in the post-Repeal period. (Roizen, 2014, p. 78)

[Below: two illustrations from the article—left: timeline of Jellinek's life; right: highlights Jellinek’s work from the 2014th [sic] SALIS conference]

August 9 in A.A. History

In 1943 [This event is frequently cited as having taken place in 1890!], The Los Angeles Times reported [left] that 400 members of Alcoholics Anonymous attended an annual picnic at Sycamore Grove Park [right, 1937] the day before. These attendees represented 11 groups, totaling around 1,000 members. During the picnic, it was announced that Bill W. would be visiting for two months, beginning in early October.

August 8 in A.A. History

In 1897, Robert Holbrook S. (Dr. Bob) [right, very young] was born in the front bedroom of a large 19th-century clapboard house at 297 Summer St. in St. Johnsbury, Vermont. His parents were Susan A. Holbrook and Judge Walter Perrin S. [left]. He had a much older foster sister, Amanda, who later became a history professor at Hunter College in New York City.

In 1942, Clarence S.’s application to enroll in the U.S. Army’s Volunteer Officers Candidate Program was approved. Earlier that summer, Clarence [right, in uniform] had decided it was time to join the Army and had contacted the Selective Service Board to apply.

In 1944, Ed B.^*, who had previously been in Alcoholics Anonymous but returned to drinking, woke up in the basement of a small community hospital. Once he sobered up, Dr. Bob S. came to see him and asked, “What happened, Ed?” Ed later remembered responding that he had found himself in a bar and didn’t know how he had gotten there. At that moment, Dr. Bob stood up from his chair, pointed a finger at him, and lectured him about the importance of honesty, saying in part:

    You’re taking up my time, and I have better ways to spend it than to talk to you. If I were you, I’d go out and get drunk and stay drunk until I made up my mind what I wanted to do. As far as I’m concerned, you stink!

    Ed was furious, but later that night, he called Dr. Bob’s wife, Anne. After that call, he never drank again. Eventually he became the editor of the Akron Intergroup News.

---

^*A.A. #59, original sobriety date: January 1938, in Akron, Ohio?

In 1974, Al S. [left] wrote to Nell Wing [right] about an article on Anne S., Dr. Bob’s wife, that he had inadvertently taken home 24 years ago [below: letter].