Of the Southern, Northern, and Chicago AA Areas, here’s a talk from a Chicagoan to the Southern section, preserved by the Northern section in a transcript. Luke H. was elected as Chicago Area 19’s first Delegate to the General Service Conference in 1951, Ward M. served as Southern Illinois Area 21 Delegate to the same Panel. Earl T. got sober in 1937, Luke mentions first meeting Ward in 1942, and all three remained close friends. March 2, 1959 talk by Luke H. of Chicago at the Abe Lincoln Hotel, Springfield, Illinois Springfield is one of my favorite AA centers. I was here with Earl T. at the first meeting of downstate groups and I have been here on several occasions of AA activity. The friendly hospitality hear-about gives me the feeling of being very much at home. Another bond comes from having watched the growth of AA in Springfield almost from the beginning. When I first met Ward M. he had been on the program a year but hadn’t acquired a single steadfast disciple, and he was rapidly becoming impatient. I tried to calm him by telling him that Earl had experienced the same frustration in Chicago for two years, and that what kept him going was Dr. Bob’s kindly counsel that all would be well in due season, “Just stay sober and don’t try to force things,” said Dr. Bob. So, Ward, like Earl, learned patience, which is a very good thing for an AA to have. AA in Springfield finally got out of the loner class one summer day in 1943. After several disappointments with slippery prospects, Ward had Jerry O. all but signed up. For the clincher we went to the Leland Hotel, which Ward held in high regard for its chocolate ice cream. It turned out that Jerry was dead ripe, so thereupon the Springfield group in the multiple sense became fact. By the way, if anyone wishes to make a pilgrimage to the birthplace he may go to the Leland dining room and pace off 15 feet in from the east wall. If he is truly of the faith, he may have a vision of Ward founding the Springfield group over a double helping of a chocolate ice cream sundae. No, while I felt much complimented by being invited to speak at this meeting, I also felt somewhat hesitant. When you bring in a speaker in from outside and treat him bountifully, you have the right to expect something super. In short, the Word. I have no such gem. Do we in AA have the key to sobriety in one syllable? I mean to say, have we one shot for the newcomer anything like the advice given by the old pugilist to the boy who wanted to know the one fundamental to be a fighter. The old pug said, “Breathe.” Of course, there’s the temptation to tell the man or woman seeking sobriety, “Stop drinking.” But he’s heard that already from every side. In fact, each one of us heard it until our ears ached. Now we know better. We know that sobriety results not from a negative position but from a positive action. Our program only begins with “Stop drinking.” From there on our task is to build up a personality that can adjust in an uncertain world without resort to alcohol. We say to the newcomer, “Here are the tools we used. Take them and start your own project and we’ll give you all the help we can.” Within the frame of the Twelve Steps, he has a broad choice of materials, starting with his own understanding of a Higher Power. Each story of AA success is different and all are equally good. Who can say that John A, who keeps sober and happy in his way, has a truer philosophy than John B, who keeps happy and sober in his way? If it’s more uniformity we’re looking for, there’s always the Infantry Drill Requisitions. So, instead of standing here and pretending to offer sovereign remedy for the sickly souse or sobriety in one easy lesson, I’d rather use my time to tell of some of the things seen along the way. In AA I have learned from both the Greek and the Barbarian, from the wise and the unwise, from my sponsor and many others who have maintained happy sobriety, and also my friend who is just now making his tenth start since 1941. I believe he will make it yet, if not this time, maybe next time, but I won’t sell him short. I have always considered myself among the fortunate. For one thing, I found AA – or probably the other way around – when I was still enough alive to make use of the program. Furthermore, I had used up my share of slips, and I knew as much as anything that one more chance was all I could expect. I had become what I now am pleased to call a profound drinker. This classy term, I would have you know, has clinical authority, having appeared in a medical report of inmates of the Seattle jail. As near as I can define it, a profound drinker is one who really has the problem. In the last year or so of drinking, I came to know deep down that I really had the problem. My difficulty was that I couldn’t come up with a decision. By myself, I would doubt if I ever would have. Then, all of a sudden, the stage was set. The timing was right, and I met AA as if it had been rehearsed. A great part of my good fortune was the warm support given me immediately. My family, whom I had hurt the most, forgave without reservation. So did my employer. The doctor who introduced me to my sponsor, the lawyer whom my wife had engaged to deal with our domestic difficulties, even a bartender, lined up on my side. The barroom scene took place when I had been dry a week. I was in the saloon with five others of my set, ostensibly out for a bit of lunch. One of them called for drinks, and when I took a coke, there was considerable merriment. The owner came to where I was standing somewhat apart and said, “I’m very glad to see it. Some of the fellows ought to get off the stuff, too.” There’s a little more to the story. Within a short time thereafter, three of the five were in AA. One of them has not had a drink to this day and the two others were sober to their deaths. I feel privileged to have been in AA for the formative period, for I have had the opportunity to watch interesting developments over the years. AA was given a foundation that seems to reveal the wisdom of Providence in the design. The early members were far-gone alcoholics. Thus, the maximum test was applied, and it was proved at the outset that AA can work for the worst. Nevertheless, there were moments of doubt. There was also the challenge of the skeptics. The Journal of the American Medical Association reviewed the Big Book when it appeared and shrugged it off as the rash venture of laymen into a field where medicine itself had not found the answer. The second era dawned brightly, AA was attracting drunks in sizeable numbers and the early adherents were still sober. Favorable publicity appeared in newspapers, Liberty Magazine, and the Saturday Evening Post. These were the balmy days. New people came in flocks, and it seemed that on every hand, rescued souls were taking watches out of hock, getting their jobs back, and even being elected vice president of the firm. Slips were not unduly numerous, and hearts were young and enthusiasm ran high. As it appears to me, the next chapter brought disappointment. By then, some had been on the program for considerable time – five and even ten years. Yet, here and there, one turned up missing. These fellows had been active, enthusiastic AAs. Perhaps in some instances they had been too fired up for the long pull. At any rate we began to hear that so-and-so wasn’t attending meetings any more. Some had gone back to the bottle. All this was a shock, for while we had come to expect a certain rate of slippage among newcomers; we had supposed that a five-year man was solid. A particularly dismaying thing was that to no one knew just how to approach the delinquent senior to get him back. Perhaps that period hasn’t come to its end, but there are signs that a new era of experience has begun. In a rather small circle, I know of five stray elders who have come back to their group meetings in recent months. If these are only individual experiences with no common factor, they may not be important in our movement, but if the attraction of AA, given time to work has the power to restore the lost spirit, then it is significant indeed, for the future as well as the present. AA came of age numerically in 1955. But we have also reached maturity in a larger sense. We have learned that adversity can be overcome. In the springtime of the fellowship the spirit of youth prevailed. People who had felt miserable suddenly felt wonderful. Even though seasoned drunks, the early members were fairly young in years and the group was touched but lightly by illness and death. The pioneers, who were then in middle age, are getting along, and like other human beings, are subject to human infirmities. In Chicago this has been particularly noticeable, for among those afflicted with physical ills are men and women who were outstandingly active and helpful in the group. Now, although forced into inactivity, they are still helpful, and in a greater degree than ever. For us, their serene acceptance of misfortune is final proof that our program is all-sufficient. They have renewed their strength and ours. They have become the eagles of AA. Instead of complaining that their devotion to the good cause entitled them to a better break of luck, they have been truly grateful for being conditioned to meet adversity. They have exemplified the program to the final stage of individual experience. They have given us AA Triumphant. The attainment of emotional maturity is a real accomplishment for any one person, let alone a mass movement of thousands who started at scratch. Alcoholics are the juveniles of the human race. This is neatly pointed up by James Thurber is his story of the Bear Who Let It Alone, which I shall now read to you. “ In the woods of the far west there once lived a brown bear who could take it or leave it alone. He would go into a bar where they sold mead, a fermented drink made of honey, and he would have just two drinks. Then he would put some money on the bar and say, ‘See what the bears in the back room will have.’ “But finally he took to drinking by himself most of the day. He would reel home at night, kick over the umbrella stand, knock down some bridge lamps, and ram his elbows through the windows. “Then he would collapse on the floor and lie there until he went to sleep. His wife was greatly distressed and his children were very frightened. “At length the bear saw the error of his ways and began to reform. In the end, he became a famous teetotaler and a persistent temperance lecturer. He would tell everybody that came to his house about the awful effects of drink, and he would boast about how well and strong he had become since he gave up touching the stuff. “ To demonstrate that, he would stand on his head and his hands and he would turn cartwheels in the house, kicking over the umbrella stand, knocking down the bridge lamps, and ramming his elbows through the windows. “Then he would lie down on the floor, tired by this healthful exercise, and go to sleep. His wife was very distressed and his children were very frightened. Thurber adds a moral: “You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backward.” I have a kind of moral of my own to the bear story: “To sober up, grow up.” While I like to think is that I am more grown up than I used to be, there have been times when my sense of maturity was put to the test. This happened not long ago in spectacular fashion. All of a sudden, without anything leading up to it, I found myself figuring that I had been sober exactly half as long as I had been married. In other words, Mrs. H. had a sober husband as long as she had put up with the other kind. This was strictly accurate, for prior to AA she had never known me to practice sobriety. The first time she saw me I had been tippling; just enough to be attractive, you know, but nevertheless unmistakable. In later years this was a good gimmick for me, when berated I could reply, “You should have known what you were getting; let’s have no complaints.” So, this big idea flashed into my mind. My next thought was, now we’re all even, I’m paid up, I’m off the hook. But it wasn’t quite clear what was to follow. I know I didn’t entertain any thought of taking to drink or staying out all night. I can’t afford today’s prices and I get sleepy sooner than I used to. But more than that, I have come to like being sober. So if I were to take advantage of this 50-50 deal with Mrs. H. I would have to find some other way. And the only possibility was to let up on trying to be a normal person. Well, it didn’t take me long to realize that the sobriety I now enjoy depends on a sober way of life as complete as I can make it. I couldn’t see any place to trim. By this time I had finished shaving that morning, I was back to where I was before I got slugged in the head with the silly idea. A little later, I told Earl about it and he said the same thing had happened to him. As long as we had both skimmed through, we tossed it off. But we wondered whether this was not more or less common AA experience. Had some of the long timers I mentioned a while ago figured that their bill was paid and had succumbed to the idea? If I had tried to put my wayward vision into practice, it would, I am sure, have meant a quick return to the childish mentality of my drinking days. When we look upon alcoholics as the juveniles of the race, we have in mind the skimpy traits that make up the alcoholic personality. Alcoholics are takers, not givers. They are only as decent to other people as other people are to them – no more. If a man compels them to go with him one mile, they may go exactly 5,280 feet. In short, the alcoholic is pure cheapskate. No sooner than I was in AA than I was confronted with the suggestion that I make direct amends to all persons I had harmed. Instinctively, I thought of all the back bills due the grocer and such. They weren’t too bad. They could be handled in time and moreover there would be no quibbling – the amounts due were stated exactly in dollars and cents. I didn’t realize at the time that the ones to whom I had owed the most – my wife and children – had presented no bill whatsoever. From the merchants I got a little better rating at the Credit Reference Bureau, but from my family, immediate and generous forgiveness. That I realize now to the full. I would never suggest revising any of the Twelve Steps. They are stated now in such pure form that it must be evidence of Divine guidance. But I do think that in our hearts, we could well insert a few words in the ninth step, “ We make direct amends to all such persons, good measure, pressed down, and running over.” In the beginning of this talk I had no quick word to effect sobriety. But there are words – not mine, but spoken long ago – that have special meaning for all of us who have had the gift of sobriety: “Freely ye have received, freely give.” We of AA are more fortunate than most people in our opportunities to give. We know the good feeling that comes from carrying the message and thereby seeing hopeless men and women recover their normal, decent status before our very own eyes. We know the satisfaction of extending ourselves to the family, friends, and employer. These things make up the pure joy of the good life. And aren’t we lucky that that we can make our amends pay off the stack of bills in such a pleasant way. Courtesy of the Northern Illinois Area 20 Archives, originally contributed by Loie Craig Van W., Downstate Illinois AA Conference Area 20+21 Secretary 1953-1973. For distribution at the 24th East Central Regional and 30th Illinois State AA Conference, hosted by Southern Illinois Area 21 in Urbana, Illinois August 1-3, 2003.