Aa history Lovers 2004 moderators Nancy Olson and Glenn F. Chesnut page

that I have been in bed five of the last seven months, and my strength hasn't

returned as I would like, so my remarks of necessity will be very brief.

"There are two or three things that flashed into my mind on which it would be

fitting to lay a little emphasis. One is the simplicity of our program. Let's

not louse it all up with Freudian complexes and things that are interesting to

the scientific mind but have very little to do with our actual A.A. work. Our

Twelve Steps, when immersed down to the last, resolve themselves into the

words 'love' and 'service.' We understand what love is, and we understand what

service is. So let's bear those two things in mind.

"Let us also remember to guard that erring member the tongue, and if we must

use it, let's use it with kindness and consideration and tolerance.

"And one more thing: None of us would be here today if somebody hadn't taken

time to explain things to us, to give us a little pat on the back, to take us

to a meeting or two, to do numerous little kind and thoughtful acts in our

behalf. So let us never get such a degree of smug complacency that we're not

willing to extend, or attempt to extend, to our less fortunate brothers that

help which has been so beneficial to us. Thank you very much."

Bill used his time on the platform to urge that AA unity be emphasized above

all else. It was here that he asked AA to approve the AA traditions, and to

agree to put into place the AA system of representation known as the AA

Conference. The longer form of the traditions had been shortened at the

suggestion and with the help of Earl Treat ("He Sold Himself Short) who

started AA in Chicago.

Among those who were opposing the conference idea was Henrietta Seiberling,

the Oxford Group non-alcoholic woman who had introduced Bill and Dr. Bob.

Despite Dr. Bob's support for the conference idea, the best that Bill could

obtain during the Cleveland convention was approval to try the conference idea

on an experimental basis.

Nonetheless, the Cleveland Convention was a memorable event. It not only

approved the Traditions, but it set precedent for International Conventions to

come. Since then, they have been held every five years.

Tex Brown was present at this convention, and described it to me at the 2000

International Convention in Minneapolis. I asked him to write it for posting.

This is part of what he wrote:

"In 1950 I attended the First International A. A. Convention in Cleveland.

This was a wonderful thing and a wonderful time. Everyone was excited about

everything. Especially getting to see and hear Bill and Dr. Bob. I think that

this was where we knew that A.A. was really working and that we were here to

stay.

"One special memory that I have was seeing an Amish family (my first) all

dressed up in their Sunday Meeting clothes, in a horsedrawn buggy on the

highway just outside of Cleveland. The next day on the floor of the big

meeting at the Convention, there they were. The driver of the buggy (Miles ?),

big hat and all, was running up and down the aisles shaking hands. He seemed

to know everybody. He was one of our early members.

"On Sunday morning the 'Spiritual Meeting' was held. I went much excited by

the prospect that I was going to rub elbows with the real heavy hitters in the

'God' department. I do not remember the name of the main speaker, but his

topic dealt with the idea that the alcoholic was to be the instrument that God

would use to regenerate and save the world. He expounded the idea that

alcoholics were God's Chosen People and he was starting to talk about 'The

Third Covenant,' (there are two previous covenants with the Jewish people

described in the Old Testament and the Christians, described in the New

Testament), when he was interrupted by shouted objections from the back of the

room. The objector, who turned out to be a small Catholic priest, would not be

hushed up.

"There was chaos and embarrassment as the meeting was quickly adjourned. I was

upset and in full sympathy with the poor speaker. I did not realize it at the

time, but I had seen Father Pfau (Fr. Ralph Pfau of Indianapolis) in action

and Father Pfau was right. I had heard the group conscience and I rejected

it."

But this is how Bill Wilson described the 1950 International Convention in a

talk he gave later:

"On A.A.'s 15th Anniversary everybody knew that we had grown up. There

couldn't be any doubt about it. Members, families and friends -- seven

thousand of them -- spent three inspiring, almost awesome days with our good

hosts at Cleveland.

"The theme song of our Conference was gratitude; its keynote was the sure

realization that we are now welded as one, the world over. As never before, we

dedicated ourselves to the single purpose of carrying good news of A.A. to

those millions who still don't know.

"As we affirmed the Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous, we asked that we might

remain in perfect unity under the Grace of God for so long as He may need us.

"Just what did we do? Well, we had meetings, lots of them. The medical

meeting, for instance. Our first and greatest friend Dr. Silkworth couldn't

get there. But his associate at Knickerbocker Hospital, New York, Dr. Meyer

Texon, most ably filled the gap, telling how best the general hospital could

relate itself to us. He clinched his points by a careful description how,

during the past four years at Knickerbocker, 5000 drunks had been sponsored,

processed and turned loose in A.A.; and this to the great satisfaction of

everybody concerned, including the hospital, whose Board was delighted with

the results and specially liked the fact that its modest charges were

invariably paid, money on the line. Who had ever heard of 5000 drunks who

really paid their bills? Then Dr. Texon brought us up to the minute on the

malady of alcoholism as they see it at Knickerbocker; he said it was a

definite personality disorder hooked to a physical craving. That certainly

made sense to most of us. Dr. Texon threw a heavy scare into prospective

'slippees.' It was that little matter of one's liver. This patient organ, he

said, would surely develop hob nails or maybe galloping cirrhosis, if more

guzzling went on. He had a brand new one too, about salt water, claiming that

every alcoholic on the loose had a big salt deficiency. Fill the victim with

salt water, he said, and you'd quiet him right down. Of course we thought,

'Why not put all drunks on salt water instead of gin? Then the world alcohol

problem might be solved overnight.' But that was our idea, not Dr. Texon's. To

him, many thanks.

"About the industrial meeting: Jake H., U.S. Steel, and Dave M., Dupont, both

A.A.s, led it. Mr. Louis Selser, Editor of the Cleveland Press, rounded out

the session and brought down the house. Jake, as an officer of Steel, told

what the company really thought about A.A. - and it was all good. Jake noted

A.A.'s huge collective earning power - somewhere between 1/4 and 1/2 billion

of dollars annually. Instead of being a nerve-wracking drag on society's

collective pocket book, we were now, for the most part, top grade employables

who could contribute a yearly average of $4,000 apiece to our country's well

being. Dave M., personnel man at Dupont who has a special eye to the company's

alcohol problem, related what the 'New Look' on serious drinking had meant to

Dupont and its workers of all grades. According to Dave, his company believes

mightily in A.A.

"By all odds the most stirring testimony at the industrial seminar was given

by Editor Louis Selser. Mr. Selser spoke to us from the viewpoint of an

employer, citizen and veteran newspaper man. It was about the most moving

expression of utter confidence in Alcoholics Anonymous we had ever heard. It

was almost too good; its implications brought us a little dismay. How could we

fallible A.A.'s ever measure up to Mr. Selser's high hope for our future? We

began to wonder if the A.A. reputation wasn't getting far better than its

actual character.

"Next came that wonderful session on prisons. Our great friend, Warden Duffy

told the startling story of our original group at San Quentin. His account of

A.A.'s 5-year history there had a moving prelude. We heard a recording, soon

for radio release, that thrillingly dramatized an actual incident of A.A. life

within the walls. An alcoholic prisoner reacts bitterly to his confinement and

develops amazing ingenuity in finding and drinking alcohol. Soon he becomes

too ingenious. In the prison paint shop he discovers a promising fluid which

he shares with his fellow alcoholics. It was deadly poison. Harrowing hours

followed, during which several of them died. The whole prison was tense as the

fatalities continued to mount. Nothing but quick blood transfusions could save

those still living. The San Quentin A.A. Group volunteered instantly and spent

the rest of that long night giving of themselves as they had never given

before. A.A. hadn't been any too popular, but now prison morale hit an all

time high and stayed there. Many of the survivors joined up. The first Prison

Group had made its mark; A.A. had come to San Quentin to stay.

"Warden Duffy then spoke. Apparently we folks on the outside know nothing of

prison sales resistance. The skepticism of San Quentin prisoners and keepers

alike had been tremendous. They thought A.A. must be a racket. Or maybe a

crackpot religion. Then, objected the prison board, why tempt providence by

freely mixing prisoners with outsiders, alcoholic women especially. Bedlam

would be unloosed. But our friend the Warden, somehow deeply convinced,

insisted on A.A. To this day, he said, not a single prison rule has ever been

broken at an A.A. meeting though hundreds of gatherings have been attended by

hundreds of prisoners with almost no watching at all. Hardly needed is that

solitary, sympathetic guard who sits in the back row.

"The Warden added that most prison authorities throughout the United States

and Canada today share his views of Alcoholics Anonymous. Hitherto 8O% of

paroled alcoholic prisoners had to be scooped up and taken back to jail. Many

institutions now report that this percentage has dropped to one-half, even

one-third of what it used to be.

Warden Duffy had traveled 2000 miles to be with us at Cleveland. We soon saw

why. He came because he is a great human being. Once again, we A.A.'s sat and

wondered how far our reputation had got ahead of our character.

"Naturally we men folk couldn't go to the meeting of the alcoholic ladies. But

we have no doubt they devised ways to combat the crushing stigma that still

rests on those poor gals who hit the bottle. Perhaps, too, our ladies had

debated how to keep the big bad wolf at a respectful distance. But no, the

A.A. sister transcribing this piece crisply assures me nothing of the sort was

discussed. A wonderfully constructive meeting, she says it was. And about 500

girls attended. Just think of it, A.A. was four years old before we could

sober up even one. Life for the alcoholic woman is no sinecure.

"Nor were other special sufferers overlooked, such as paid Intergroup

secretaries, plain everyday secretaries, our newspaper editors and the wives

and husbands of alcoholics, sometimes known as our 'forgotten people.' I'm

sure the secretaries concluded that though sometimes unappreciated, they still

love every moment of their work.

"What the editors decided, I haven't learned. Judging from their telling

efforts over the years, it is altogether possible they came up with many an

ingenious idea.

"Everybody agreed that the wives (and husbands) meeting was an eye opener.

Some recalled how Anne S. in the Akron early days, had been boon companion and

advisor to distraught wives. She clearly saw alcoholism as a family problem.

"Meanwhile we A.A.'s went all out on the work of sobering up incoming alkies

by the thousands. Our good wives seemed entirely lost in that prodigious

shuffle. Lots of the newer localities held closed meetings only, it looked

like A.A. was going exclusive. But of late this trend has whipped about. More

and more our partners have been taking the Twelve Steps into their own lives.

As proof of this, witness the 12th step work they are doing with the wives and

husbands of newcomers, and note well those wives' meetings now springing up

everywhere.

"At their Cleveland gathering they invited us alcoholics to listen. Many an

A.A. skeptic left that session convinced that our 'forgotten ones' really had

something. As one alkie put it - 'The deep understanding and spirituality I

felt in that wives' meeting was something out of the world.'

"Far from it, the Cleveland Conference wasn't all meetings. Take that banquet,

for example. Or should I say banquets? The original blueprint called for

enough diners to fill the Rainbow Room of Hotel Carter. But the diners did

much better. Gay banqueters quickly overflowed the Ballroom. Finally the

Carter Coffee Shop and Petit Cafe had to be cleared for the surging

celebrants. Two orchestras were drafted and our fine entertainers found they

had to play their acts twice, both upstairs and down.

"Though nobody turned up tight, you should have heard those A.A.'s sing.

Slap-happy, they were. And why not? Yet a serious undertone crept in as we

toasted the absent ones. We were first reminded of the absent by that A.A.

from the Marshall Islands who, though all alone out there, still claimed his

group had three members, to wit: 'God, the book Alcoholics Anonymous and me.'

The first leg of his 7,000 mile journey to Cleveland had finished at Hawaii

whence with great care and refrigeration he had brought in a cluster of floral

tributes, those leis for which the Islands are famous. One of these was sent

by the A.A. lepers at Molokai - those isolated A.A.'s who will always be of

us, yet never with us. We swallowed hard, too, when we thought of Dr. Bob,

alone at home, gravely ill.

"Another toast of the evening was to that A.A. who, more than anything, wanted

to be at Cleveland when we came of age. Unhappily he never got to the

Tradition meeting, he had been carried off by a heart attack. His widow came

in his place and she cheerfully sat out that great event with us. How well her

quiet courage will be remembered. But at length gaiety took over; we danced

till midnight. We knew the absent ones would want it that way.

"Several thousand of us crowded into the Cleveland Music Hall for the

Tradition meeting, which was thought by most A.A.'s to be the high point of

our Conference. Six old time stalwarts, coming from places as far flung as

Boston and San Diego, beautifully reviewed the years of A.A. experience which

had led to the writing of our Traditions. Then I was asked to sum up, which I

did, saying: 'That, touching all matters affecting A.A. unity, our common

welfare should come first; that A.A. has no human authority - only God as He

may speak in our Group Conscience; that our leaders are but trusted servants,

they do not govern; that any alcoholic may become an A.A. member if he says so

-- we exclude no one; that every A.A. Group may manage its own affairs as it

likes, provided surrounding groups are not harmed thereby; that we A.A.'s have

but a single aim -- the carrying of our message to the alcoholic who still

suffers; that in consequence we cannot finance, endorse or otherwise lend the

name 'Alcoholics Anonymous' to any other enterprise, however worthy; that

A.A., as such, ought to remain poor, lest problems of property, management and

money divert us from our sole aim; that we ought to be self-supporting, gladly

paying our small expenses ourselves; that A.A. should forever remain

non-professional, ordinary 12th step work never to be paid for; that, as a

Fellowship, we should never be organized but may nevertheless create

responsible Service Boards or Committees to insure us better propagation and

sponsorship and that these agencies may engage full time workers for special

tasks; that our public relations ought to proceed upon the principle of

attraction rather than promotion, it being better to let our friends recommend

us; that personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and pictures ought to

be strictly maintained as our best protection against the temptations of power

or personal ambition; and finally, that anonymity before the general public is

the spiritual key to all our traditions, ever reminding us we are always to

place principles before personalities, that we are actually to practice a

genuine humility. This to the end that our great blessings may never spoil us;

that we shall forever live in thankful contemplation of Him who presides over

us all.

"So summing up, I then inquired if those present had any objections to the

Twelve Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous as they stood. Hearing none, I

offered our Traditions for adoption. Impressively unanimous, the crowd stood

up. So ended that fine hour in which we of Alcoholics Anonymous took our

destiny by the hand.

"On Sunday morning we listened to a panel of four A.A.'s who portrayed the

spiritual side of Alcoholics Anonymous -- as they understood it. What with

churchgoers and late-rising banqueters, the Conference Committee had never

guessed this would be a heavy duty session. But churchgoers had already

returned from their devotions and hardly a soul stayed abed. Hotel Cleveland's

ballroom was filled an hour before hand. People who have fear that A.A. is

losing interest in things of the spirit should have been there.

"A hush fell upon the crowd as we paused for a moment of silence. Then came

the speakers, earnest and carefully prepared, all of them. I cannot recall an

A.A. gathering where the attention was more complete, or the devotion deeper.

"Yet some thought that those truly excellent speakers had, in their

enthusiasm, unintentionally created a bit of a problem. It was felt the

meeting had gone over far in the direction of religious comparison, philosophy

and interpretation, when by firm long standing tradition we A.A.'s had always

left such questions strictly to the chosen faith of each individual.

"One member [Fr. Ralph Pfau] rose with a word of caution. As I heard him, I

thought, 'What a fortunate occurrence. How well we shall always remember that

A.A. is never to be thought of as a religion. How firmly we shall insist that

A.A. membership cannot depend upon any particular belief whatever; that our

twelve steps contain no article of religious faith except faith in God -- as

each of us understands Him. How carefully we shall henceforth avoid any

situation which could possibly lead us to debate matters of personal religious

belief. It was, we felt, a great Sunday morning.

"That afternoon we filed into the Cleveland Auditorium. The big event was the

appearance of Dr. Bob. Earlier we thought he'd never make it, his illness had

continued so severe. Seeing him once again was an experience we seven thousand

shall always treasure. He spoke in a strong, sure voice for ten minutes, and

he left us a great heritage, a heritage by which we A.A.'s can surely grow. It

was the legacy of one who had been sober since June 10, 1935, who saw our

first Group to success, and one who, in the fifteen years since, had given

both medical help and vital A.A. to 4,000 of our afflicted ones at good St.

Thomas Hospital in Akron, the birthplace of Alcoholics Anonymous. Simplicity,

devotion, steadfastness and loyalty; these, we remembered, were the hallmarks

of that character which Dr. Bob had well implanted in so many of us. I, too,

could gratefully recall that in all the years of our association there had

never been an angry word between us. Such were our thoughts as we looked at

Dr. Bob.

"Then for an hour I tried to sum up. Yet how could one add much to what we had

all seen, heard and felt in those three wonderful days? With relief and

certainty we had seen that A.A. could never become exhibitionistic or big

business; that its early humility and simplicity is very much with us, that we

are still mindful our beloved Fellowship is really God's success - not ours.

As evidence I shared a vision of A.A. as Lois and I saw it unfold on a distant

beach head in far Norway. The vision began with one A.A. who listened to a

voice in his conscience, and then said all he had.

"George, a Norwegian-American, came to us at Greenwich, Connecticut, five

years ago. His parents back home hadn't heard from him in twenty years. He

began to send letters telling them of his new freedom. Back came very

disquieting news. The family reported his only brother in desperate condition,

about to lose all through alcohol. What could be done? The A.A. from Greenwich

had a long talk with his wife. Together they took a decision to sell their

little restaurant, all they had. They would go to Norway to help the brother.

A few weeks later an airliner landed them at Oslo. They hastened from field to

town and thence 25 mile down the fjord where the ailing brother lived. He was

in a bad state all right. Unfortunately, though, everybody saw it but him.

He'd have no A.A., no American nonsense. He an alcoholic? Why certainly not!

Of course the man from Greenwich had heard such objections before. But now

this familiar argument was hard to take. Maybe he had sold all he had for no

profit to anybody. George persisted every bit he dared, but finally surmised

it was no use. Determined to start an A.A. Group in Norway, anyhow, he began a

round of Oslo's clergy and physicians. Nothing happened, not one of them

offered him a single prospect. Greatly cast down, he and his wife thought it

high time they got back to Connecticut.

"But Providence took a hand. The rebellious Norwegian obligingly tore off on

one of his fantastic periodics. In the final anguish of his hangover he cried

out to the man from Greenwich, 'Tell me again of the Alcoholics Anonymous,

what, oh my brother, shall I do?' With perfect simplicity George retold the

A.A. story. When he had done, he wrote out, in his all but forgotten

Norwegian, a longhand translation of a little pamphlet published by the White

Plains, N.Y. Group. It contained, of course, our Twelve Steps of recovery. The

family from Connecticut then flew away home. The Norwegian brother, himself a