Step 4 Pushed Him into a Pleasant Life – 1965 – Bob L.

The Eleventh Tradition. Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion. We need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and films. Thank you for keeping this tradition. I'm an alcoholic. You know, I just celebrated my 21st AA birthday. I'm sort of a newcomer compared to my old friend Stan here sitting right next to me. He's exactly 10 years ahead of me with 31 years. But Alberto just gave me a little pamphlet from Mr. Duffy's drying out farm up in Calistoga, and that's where I got it 21 years ago. I wound up there courtesy of a couple of members of the San Francisco Fire Department where I used to work, and a fellow by the name of Tom Costello. A fellow by his name of – Tom Costella is dead and gone now, so we can use his name. And Bob Q., who is very much alive and works in AA quite a bit up in the Novato area today still. Anyway, they deposited me in Mr. Duffy's establishment up there. And I, yes, in Calistoga, yeah. I'd been on the end of a three-month drunk, and they were going to dry me out, straighten me out and get me back to work. And I had no intention of joining AA. I didn't know that Duffy's was AA. And anyway, I came out of the fog up there. They give you the hummers then, which they put a highball in your hand every four hours to bring you down to earth, which is a system they don't use anymore. But it's pretty damn good. It's a nice way to bring me down and keep me from going into the DTs. They give me a real strong one just before you go to bed at nighttime. You have to keep your eye on them because the other people in there, They might steal them from you if you set them down for a moment. The best thing would be to drink them right down quick. But anyway, old Duffy got that place decorated with all this old Marine Corps stuff. And I come out of the fog up there and I thought, my God, I'm back in the Marines. I'd been in the marines when I was practically a child. and this guy has got all these marine recruiting posters and everything else. And then I started listening to him talking, and he's an old sergeant from the Marine Corps. He reminded me of my boot camp drill instructor. Scared me half to death. I thought I was back in that insane asylum. But anyway, I stayed up there with Duffy for three weeks. She didn't have a 28-day program then. He just repeated everything week after week, and he gave you some pretty good basic AA. That's all there was to it. Basic AA to me really today is still don't drink if your ash falls off. This has served me very well. Of course, I left there and I went to meetings. I lived in meetings for probably the first 10 years I was sober. And I don't go to as many meetings today as I used to. I'm a little older. See, I was 49 years old when I got sober, and I'm 70 years old now. And I didn't like to go out at night too much. I don' t see as well as I should. But anyway, getting back to Duffy and his system of sobering you up up there, because I was drunk as could be. I'd been on a three-month drunk, and the way they bring you down to earth was they put a highball in your hand every four hours. And on Christmas Day, 1974, Gene Duffy himself, the old man, handed me one and said, this is the last drink you'll ever have to take. Of course, I didn't believe him. I didn't believe him at all because I fully intended to drink again once I got a few people off my back and got some money in the bank and took care of a few things. I was going to drink like a gentleman. I keep looking at this picture you've got of Duffy. That's Duffy in his later stages. When I was there with him in 1974, that guy was built like Little Abner in a comic strip. He had about a 30-inch waist and 46-inch shoulders, and was all muscle. And frankly, the guy was rather frightening, maybe scared me into staying sober. But anyway, I left that place with a list of meetings in San Francisco to go to every week. And he had every day of the week covered. And he did a lot of business with the fire department. And he knew our work schedule and just what we could go do and everything else. And strangely enough, I went along with it. I fully intended to drink again at some point after I felt better, after I had some money in the bank, after I Had a New Car. And in the meantime, how the hell am I going to do this thing? Well, I just took their advice and went to meetings. Then if I didn't become a coffee maker, I became a coffee maker at Winton Park meeting, which was pretty well attended meeting at that time, about 85 people every Saturday night. And I held that job down for about a year and a half. I went to three secretaries. One of them got drunk. Secretaries, I think, get drunk more than coffee makers do. That's personal opinion. I have no facts to substantiate it, but that was the way it was. And then I graduated into, well, I was secretary at ARA House. That's over on Haight Street, 1035 Haight St. in San Francisco, right in front of the Haight-Ashbury recovery facility. And I was the secretary over there at the Thursday night meeting. Oh, this was good for me. every day was get a little responsibility, get into the swim, so to speak, you know. Well, he's not here today. Oh, you're nothing for us, Stan. Bob. Oh, I thought God was coming or something. But anyway, then the fire department in San Francisco had a rather big meeting in those days at St. Mary's Cathedral, and I got to be secretary of that. I was sort of drafted in. That's the time I've been still about maybe two or three years, you know. That was quite an experience in itself. That was 10 o'clock every Tuesday morning. A very well-attended meeting. A lot of people. Anyway. Anyway. Now we're going to end. Yeah. To get Bob in here, he's a man that can really tell us. But I can't emphasize the importance of meetings too much for anybody that's new. I think the main reason I'm still sober today is I've got a hell of a background of meetings when I was new. I was either at work or I was going to a meeting or coming from a meeting, you know. And I really didn't – everything else was sort of on hold. Now here comes the guy with a little sobriety who – I don't want to talk to you. Who we're going on the way. I would just like to say that the past 21 years have absolutely been the finest period of my life, from age 49 to 70, and my sobriety. And now I want to introduce a fellow who is a very good friend of mine who has a few years in the fellowship on me. I'd like to introduce the man in the Bay Area here in San Francisco who probably has the greatest number of years of sobriety in the fellowship, Bob L. Bob L., that's me. I joined AA in November 1945. I was in the service at the time and my wife had left me. And I had heard about AA, and when I was in the Army, another fellow I used to drink with, there was an article in Look Magazine about 1943 or 4, and we used to joke about it because he used to drank with me. And this AA was a wonderful thing for the winos, but not for people like us because we were still on the hard stuff. And the people had gone down to wine. So anyway, there used to be an ad in the papers. There was also a magazine article in the old Liberty Magazine and also a Saturday Evening Post. But the thing is, there was a little ad in The Paper, in the personals, I believe, if you want to drink, that's your business. If you want a quick drinking, that' our business. And they gave a phone number for Alcoholics Anonymous. There were no full-time secretaries, I think. And I asked my wife if she'd come. I made the call, and then if they would take servicemen. And so we went down. It was a Saturday night on November 17, 1945, to a place, I don't know whether it's still there, 143 Bush Street. It was upstairs over a bar, and the one door on the left went into the bar named Kelly's, and the other door went upstairs to the AA. Well, there was no sign on the door indicating that. So anyway, my wife and I asked her to come down with me that night more for moral support than anything else because my drinking had got to the point where I was about to be cashiered out of the Army. And so she came down with us and we went up the stairs. The first thing at the top of the stairs I remember very well, and I didn't know what I was getting into, but I knew I had to do something. And so at the Top of the Stairs was a little table, and there was a sign posted above the table that said, Nobody admitted under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or pills. And I said, I'm sure he's getting into a confession with a bunch of people. And so anyway, we went in, and it was no meeting as such. It was just a great big room, and all the people were in there. And I could tell by the sound of the people's laughter and all, which I didn't think I was ever going to laugh again. And they introduced each other out. I remember a guy named Eddie Fitzgerald. I guess I couldn't use last name because they're gone now. Eddie Fitzgerald. And he took a liking to me, and I took a liken to him. And then there was some guy that I see names in front of me to bring back memories, Ray Holgate and Bob George. He became the first secretary full-time. And I helped move him, open that office up at, I believe the address was 690-something on Sutter Street. And before that, there wasn't any full-term secretaries. There was only three groups in the city at the time. One was the Marina Group, which met over at Union and Steiner. And the mission group out on Cap and 19th, I believe. And then there was the all groups who met, I think, on Tuesday night. And they met there at 143 Bush. Then my wife and I figured I could tell that these people had been where I had been and I wanted to be one of them. So I decided that this thing can work. And just recently a man died whose name was Tommy McCormick, and he was the manager of the Golden State Hotel down on Powell Street. And he died, and he's still manager of that hotel. So this was during the war, I'll forget. And the thing is my wife and I decided to come back together. Well, you couldn't get a room for a lot of money, and my wife had taken off her jewelry. As a matter of fact, she had her wedding rings and things, and then she had filed for divorce. So anyway, she called up her mother and said, Bob, I've decided to stay with Bob. Well, they said I was a nice guy, but I drank too much. And so anyway, Tommy McCormick called around because you couldn't get a hotel room for a lot of money in those days. And we got a room at the Cecil Hotel over on Post Street. And through the efforts of Tommy. And then I, we had stayed together that night and we've been back together ever since. And that was over, that's 19, we got married in 1953 and that was in November 1945. We've been together every since. We had three children. We lost our first child, a boy about six months after his NIA, two-and-a-half year old boy. And that was very hard to take, and I can understand if somebody went out and fake-overed. But I was fortunate I didn't have to do that. In the meantime, when we got started, I had my hand involved in things. There were people who I remember now by looking at some of their names, Les Fountain, Fred Katz was the oldest member as far as I knew, and the first member in AA in San Francisco, and the second member was a man named John Carey. And then there was a fellow named O.K. Posey, and his girlfriend was Juanita. And Juanita and O. K. ran a coffee bar in that 143 Bush Street, which was a big hall. And one of the things that impressed me in that hall that night was a Big Plack carved out of redwood on the wall, and it was the serenity prayer. God grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. That was the first time that I recall seeing that, and it impressed me very much. And then they had a book. The book was Alcoholics Anonymous. And I said, uh-oh, this is the deal. It's a book selling deal. And the thing was, I bought the book anyway. I think it was 395 or something like that. It had a red and yellow loud cover so loud you could hear the book before you saw it. So anyway, we got the book, and the first thing I did, because we didn't have a car in those days, we used a streetcar. Yeah, it was the same color he showed me a book called Alcoholism Island, 1941-91. Same color. Well, I tore that off right away, and the book itself was a dark blue color cover. I had my hand in opening up the Llano Club. We formed that, the first one that burned down a few years ago over in Grand Avenue near Bush. I understand the first meeting place for the AA though was not 143 Bush but an alley off of Grand Avenue between Bush and Sutter. Yeah, Bush and Sutter in an alley alongside the telephone company was there. I can't think of the name of it right now. And a man, one of the men I met in those days there wasn't too much talk about sponsorship. It was very, there wasn'T any organization whatsoever. As a matter of fact, some people went out on 12-step calls and went out and they got drunk with the guy they went up and called on me. And some of them said, this is a great office. You go out, the people call them up, and they come out and drink with you. So anyway, that was very rare, though. And then I had my hand in forming the Richmond, it was called the Richmond Sunset District Group, and the Parkside Group,and the one other, I can't even, Sunset, and The Sunset group. But those things are still in existence as far as I know. And my wife lived in the Richmond district, I didn't have an address except my family lived here up on Jackson Street. And even though I never was drunk at home, I left home when I was younger anyway. And my father met my prospective bride at the time and he said, you know Bob drinks a lot, and I didn't even know he knew I drank. So our reputation goes ahead of us or behind us a lot of times. But it's been a wonderful experience for me one day at a time. Eddie and I used to – I got out of the Army, and Eddie didn't have a job, but there was a man in the AA, and there used to be a meeting place down at the end of Powell and Market downstairs in the Clinton – I think it was called the Clinton Cafeteria. I'm not sure I don't remember the name of that, but it was downstairs at Fifton Power Market. And we used to meet down there. Well, this man made a living selling magazines and subscriptions, and he'd hire us guys in AA to go around. Well, Eddie and I went around all over San Francisco and even into Oakland, and they had a premium thing to give away with their subscription, what's called a dictionary. I forget the name of it. It was a cheap-ass thing, and it was big as hell and heavy. It got heavy. It felt like throwing the damn thing away after carrying it around all day. So we were over in Oakland, and Eddie went into this gas station, and we used to meet and talk coffee and talk AA more than we sold magazines. But the thing is, he said, I went into the gasoline station and was going to sell them, and the guy saw me coming with the dictionary under my arm, He said, stop. I'll buy your deal if there's one word in that dictionary, and if you can find it in the dictionary, I'll buy it. He says, that shouldn't be any trouble. I said, what's the word? He said what's the word dining? You know, the damn word wasn't in there. Anyway, those were good days. Eddie finally went down, and he was from South Boston. I always impressed with Eddie because he had a line of bologna, but he could, he talked good. And Eddie married a girl from El Salvador, and he moved down to San Salvador, and he started AA down there. And I heard he died, but he was in jail as a drunk in South Boston so many times they called him by his first name. They knew him by the first name, but Eddie stayed over a long time and he helped me a great deal. Another man that helped me, we used to meet and we never say out there. We had a fellow introduce us, a man named Tommy G. I said, Tommy, would you introduce me at the meeting? Well, he did. And so I can recall back to my first speaking and talk in AA. And I thought I'd make notes about what I was going to say. Instead, I wound up writing the whole damn thing out, you know. And when I got finished, I thought I'd ended up in a nice note by quoting a poem called Invictus. And part of that poem ended with the, Out of the night that covers me black as a pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever God's there be for my unconquerable soul. And I thought it was very effective, but the chairman didn't think so. When he finished, he said, He said, I thought we came here to bury Caesar, not to praise Caesar. And I said, I thought, I hate that guy to this day. So anyway, those were part of the fun. It was great. My experience has been wonderful. My life is saved by AA, and it's grown so much. And a lot of things have changed. We never used to hold hands at the close of the meeting because a lot of people were too shaky. They were embarrassed to hold their hands. And then also we used to just close with the Lord's Prayer, and you didn't have to join in that either. But the thing, everything changes. I was very, very fortunate to have met Bill Wilson twice. Once in 1950, I believe it was, he came out to San Francisco to receive the Lasker Award for Contributions to Public Health, and he spoke at the Opera House, and it was packed. And I was impressed. If I ever had a hero as a person like that, he would be it. Then one time he came up on a tour speaking, And he had a meeting down at an old auditorium below Market Street on 11th Street. It used to be an old boxing hall. And after the meeting, I met him and shook hands with him. And I was the secretary of a group at the time. Now, you knew he wouldn't do it, but I asked him if he'd come out to speak to our group. And he would like to, but, of course, he couldn't. He was on the schedule. But I remember what he was saying about the beginning of AA. And it's all told in his story and Bill's story in the big book. But the thing is, he said when he found this, came upon this idea of alcoholics helping one another, which is the basis of the program, he says, he thought by and he was a stock broker, an entrepreneur anyway, and so he said he thought about, and this is in his talk to the group, not to me. In his talk, he said, I thought what a wonderful idea this is. I could make a lot of money just franchising this thing out, calling it the Wilson Drying Out Clinics or some such name. But then he thought, my God, he says, I was given this free by God and why should I charge anybody for it? That's the way he was. Then I never met Bob Smith, but I met the third man in AA, the man in the bed. He was an attorney, and he spoke at one of the first meetings. They weren't conferences then, down at the Congressional Church at Mason Post. And he was the man in the bed, and his story is in the big book. But I was very impressed, and I'll say it again and again. I've met some very fine people. There's two of them sitting here in front of me that I've known a long time, Stan, who's got over 30 years. and he and I are about the same age. And then Albert here, I've known for a long time, and he's helped a lot. But the thing is, a lot of my friends are gone. I'm 81 years old, so I can't figure I'm going to have too much longer to go. But the things is, without AA, I would never be where I am. I've got a wonderful wife, and we have two daughters grown, and we are grandparents. We have five grandchildren. And without AA, all I can say is God bless Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith because they started this thing. And it was that all of us, to think this thing is spread all over the world is amazing. So thank you all, and keep going to the meetings. Keep coming back. Even the ones who don't make this program help me a great deal because it shows me where I come from. Thank you very much. Thank you, Bob. New York Life Insurance. And he come back in 1962 and speak in the nursing home. He did? Yeah. I didn't know that. I don't think. Is that right? Eddie was a character. Oh, yeah. And what was his name? He call you Page 99, no? Yeah, that's what they called him, Page 99. I don' t know why. I looked at the page. Oh, yes. He was talking about... About the higher power or something. Yeah, brain. Yeah. He's talking in the morning, 24 hours. Yeah, thinking about the day. That's it. Yeah, page 99. Actually you're right about that, he really did. And that's what we always call it, Page 9980. Yes, because it's only in the first edition and the big book, because all the editions are different. I have a soft copy, a self-covered copy of the big book, and I couldn't find it like that in that page 99, but I read the big book every now and then. read as much. I always go to meetings. People say, how come you still go to meetings after 50 years? Because I enjoy them. I enjoy them and it reminds me where I'm from because this thing of alcoholism is a very insidious thing. And all of us, I think I can speak for some of us in the thinking for myself, I tried to drink myself sober. You know, I can remember my last drunk and there was a murder. It was murder. And so the thing is that everybody's different. We're all the same, though, in a lot of ways. And it's good to see the young people coming in. It really is. If they can get it, I got it at 31 years old. And that was young then because mostly I had a friend of mine. I mean, Larry Roach. Larry's dead now. He was a union man here in the city, a good man. He and I had talked for hours. And he used to always say, Bob, when I was your age, nobody could tell me out on a night I couldn't drink, you know. But he was in and out. His wife used to put him in a place over in Masonic and Page, Parkside Sanitarium. And there was an old woman named Ratched, I think her name was Mrs. Ratched. And one day I was on my way to a meeting and Mary had talked. He said, Bob, if you're my friend, you bring me up with Mickey. And And I said, geez, how the hell am I going to get a Mickey? He'd been tied down. If you hadn't been in that place, they'd tie you down to the bed. And so I said I can't bring a bottle up there because if I do, he might break and cut himself or anything. So anyway, what a stoop I did have. I went to the store, and in those days they didn't have the foam cups. They had these waxed line paper cups. and I bought a Mickey and I poured it into two cups and stuck them in my pocket. And, of course, the damn alcohol dissolved the wax. And, Christ, I didn't think I had an inch in each of either one of them. And I gave them to him, but I smelled like a brewery, and I went to a meeting again. But that's the way it was. What was I going to do? The poor guy was tied down, and he was dying, and one time I used to go trough stepping him, And he stopped at 3rd and Mission to go in to get a pack of cigarettes. We didn't see him for two weeks. I didn't worry about it. And he was a good guy though, Larry, very good. I could go on and on about different people, but that's enough. Bob, do you remember any people when he started the AA and his appliances? The only ones I know is Fred Katz, who's supposed to have been the oldest one. He wound up in Reno and opened a parking lot or something up there. up there. John Kerry was an engineer with the city, I think he was. I'm not sure. And to me they were aloof. Not because they were, but I looked up to them. They were the two newest ones I knew. Bob George was the first trade secretary. O.K. Posey had an awful lot to do with AA in the beginning. And Ray Holgate, too, and I know the names, and Les Fountain, and Fred Katz, and the others. Clarence Rossi, he was a son of our ex-mayor. And Clarenc was a nice guy, he really was. And he was in AA. But they were the only ones I know know, in the real beginning that I knew of. There was no rosters. We didn't sign anything and nothing like that. And that's it. Thank you very much. Hey, there's one more thing here. This was a record 1940, so this is . Forty-what? I don't know. And one of your guys is Mickey. Who? Used to be in San Jose, Mickey. We call him Mickey. I see. And he used to be working for . Gee, there are quite a few here. All right, September 41. Yeah. Gee, there's quite a few here. All right, September 41. Well, are they all AAs, I wonder? We used to go to San Quentin. I used to Go to San Quentin, yeah, they used to Conduct the meetings over There, and the warden was Clinton Duffy, and it was the First prison that opened its Gates to AA, and we used to Go on a Sunday morning, we'd Meet downtown, there wasn't Parking meters then, and And one of us would go in the other guy's car, and we'd conduct a meeting at St. Clinton in the morning. Oh, it was around 10-30 or 11. And there was a big hall that was filled with these felons, you know? But most of them were down there to get out of their cell, and they used to bring coffee and donuts. I mean, they had coffee. They used to the bring the donuts, but we couldn't supply enough for 300 people anyway. They wouldn't let women in, in those days, in the prison. Many a time when I walk out of there and they clank that door behind me, I say, but to the grace of God, I could still be in there because people, when I was drinking, they could tell me I did something. I couldn't say yes or no. You know, I couldn' t say I did or didn't. So I was very fortunate in that way, and I think it helped me a great deal to realize what this booze was. I don't know anybody in my family that was a boozer. I have an uncle that I had on my mother's side who had a reputation of being a drinker, and that's the only one I know of. But outside of that, my father, I never saw him drunk. My mother died when I was a little baby, but I don' t remember her. But the thing is that my stepmother was a fine woman. People talk about stepmothers, but she was a great woman. And the thing is, that's about it. I don't know what the history is. I'm partly Irish, and they say that's most of the reason. But hell, it's not in no respect of any particular ethnic group. It really isn't. Okay? Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you, too. February 2nd, 1996. My name's Albert. I'm an alcoholic and have the pleasure of being together with this little group, Alberto and Bob and Stan and myself again, recording a few of our experiences and dating back to the early days. Of course, I'm not much of an early day person. I'm sitting here as a junior member of this group with 21 years of continuous sobriety, and I would like to introduce my good friend, a gentleman who I learned an awful lot from, Stan W. Now, I first heard Stan W speak shortly after I got out of Mr. Duffy's recovery facility, and I heard him speak at Firefighters Group in San Francisco. And I always felt that, in all honesty, if Stan could make it, I could make a pretty good stab at it. And there he was sitting with 10 years of sobriety, and it was incomprehensible to me away from the booze for 10 years but uh since then we've become very good friends and we see a lot of each other we help each other and with that i'm going to give you stan w from milbury my name is stan w and i'm an alcoholic I didn't come into AA by invitation. The judge sent me here. I think I was the first one ever to be sentenced by a judge to come, you know, to sentence to AA. And I had to go...he sent me to go to AA and see the picture of Wine and Roses. Now, had I at that time, That must have been about 1962, I think, approximately there, 62, 60, something like that. Maybe 61 or 62. And had I gone at that time, had I grown at that point in time, and seen that picture, you know, I might have had a marble or two left in my head at that time that I would, you know, something would go into my brain that booze had something to do with this thing because I didn't think I was an alcoholic. I knew I was a wino, but I didn t think I wasn't an alcoholic, but I bought the ticket. The judge told me what was playing. He told me it was playing at Fox Theater up there off of 19th and Terreville. I bought the ticket, but I did not go in. So therefore, I spent several three years, some of the most miserable three years I think was after my first AA meetings because when I walked in, I had no, I didn't want no part of this thing. I remember walking into the meeting whether it was the first or second, I wanted to find who's the boss. I was looking for the boss because I had to have it signed, you know, a ticket signed. But anyway, I soon found out that I didn't have to, that I could sign these tickets myself, you know. It didn't take very long. It took about two or three meetings and therefore I didn t go no more. I'd pop into them occasionally. But as life went on, I went through a hell of a lot of misery. My wife had been in Al-Nan seven years before I went to my first AA meeting. I always say she's been in the Al-nan before Christ, and I'm very grateful for that now. But at that time I thought she was going to some kind of a cult or something because the girls used to come, her friends used to just come in our house sometime and together and she'd go out. I didn't know where the hell they were going. I didn' care. It made no difference. But thank God that she hung in there because if she didn't hang in there I certainly probably would never you know because as time went on it sure got worse. I was one of those that didn't, you know, you hear a lot of stories of people that from the first drink they were drunk and the first drink they passed out and so forth and so on. Well, it wasn't that way with me at all. I didn't drink when I was a kid and I didnít like it And I didn't drink because my dad was an alcoholic and a real, real wino. So therefore, I didn' t want to be like him. But however, as time progressed, I got to be pretty independent in life. I traveled a lot. I was on the road, and I'd be home half of the time, gone half of it time, and it would get kind of lonely out there. So I started going into these places where they had a pool table, not have a soda pop and play. And that's how I got hooked. That's how I started. But it didn't happen to me. I took one and it was all over. I wanted another and it wasn't that way at all. It didn't happen that way with me, that I took a drink and off I went. I remember up to this point, I don't remember ever finishing a drink. In In other words, I must have taken drinks all along down the line somewhere where I'd sipped it. But I don't remember ever drinking one whole thing at one time. If I had a beer, I'd drink it a little bit and leave it in my younger days. But however, as I said, I got going to these bars and playing pool and shooting. But I was lonely, passing time, and I'd start drinking beer, and then I started shooting pool for beer and then I'd start buying beer and take a six-pack and the beer to my motel, I mean a shot. Then came the bottle, they came to half a pint and then came the cases and then came the trouble. I was in a lot, a lot of trouble and I had an attorney. My attorney was a California Assemblyman and I he was on the retaining fee so I paid him by the year so I kept them busy and I got away with a lot of stuff and lasted a little while longer than somebody else would because of the connections but eventually things got so bad that I wound up I wound up on the you know in Howard Street and I had a suite over there on Fort and Howard on the corner. And then eventually I landed, I got into AA. I don't know how it really happened but somebody by the name of Bob Irving he's Bob my sponsor he became my sponsor then he started I don't know how the hell he got a hold of me but he did some way or other and start dragging me around to meetings and and I went with him and I managed this to stay sober for they took me to Truman's and when I got the Truman's when I got the truman's I had a belt a rope for a belt and I was in real I was off the street so you can imagine how I looked and I spent time in Truman's and I was there for three weeks. I got out, Bob took me to meetings consistently. Every day, every day, everyday, everyday. And I managed to make eleven and a half months. And going to meetings all the time. I didn't think I was an alcoholic. I knew I was a bum and wine, though I knew that. But however, I didn't believe that I was an alcoholic so I was going to test it. So I tried it. I tested it intentionally. I bought a bottle, intentionally. I bought big bottle and a bag of potato chips and went home and I was gonna drink it and there's no more tomorrow. If I could do that, I'm no alcoholic. But at the same time I was thinking I like I began to like the company Bob's company anyway I'm not saying I liked everybody in there a but I did like Bob's Company because he gave me a lot of attention and but then I got drunk again and then it won't back up on the farm and that was my third trip on the fireman and after that when they all happened to me is this last time by this time we were losing we were losing our they were the finance company wanted to take the house because of back payments the state wanted to ticket because I didn't pay taxes on it for four years or something like that so financially we were very very bad off the only and the only reason I filed bankruptcy in 1962 I think and the only reason they didn't take the houses because it was homesteaded at that time and so there wasn't enough money in it for them to take it. And so that's how I managed hanging on to the little bit there was. But when I sobered up, I was a very sick, I was very ill. I couldn't hardly walk. People had to help me. I could not even eat, help myself to eat. It was in my hands. I shook so hard. But Bob took me to meetings every day, every day every day. Every day he took me the meetings. I was getting tired of these meetings, personally. I keep sitting in because I couldn't work. I wasn't working and my wife then got a job in a dime store someplace, Woolworths, I think, and she was bringing in, but little, kept the house together because it was impossible for me to walk or try to do something, but I'd done a lot of thinking at that time. If I could only, if I was well, I would never made it because I would have gone out and taken care of myself. And we didn't, we despised one another. I didn't like her and she didn't like me. And I couldn't bear being in the same room with her. We despised one another. I didn't like her and she didn't like me. And I couldn't bear being in the same room with her. And it wasn't a very pleasant year because all she would say to me is, don't tell me, show me. Don't tell me. Show me. Every time I tried to open my mouth or talk to her, that's all that ever came out of her mouth. Don't Tell Me, Show Me. Don'T Tell Me Show Me I was getting sick of that thing, you know. And anyway, I hung in there and I went to truman's to meetings for 14 years every friday the only time i missed is when we went out of town someplace like a trip to chicago once or something like that or i went on the silver sailor cruise or somethinglikethat so that i missed but other than that i went to rain or shine or hail or something. For fourteen years I went to Truman's because that's the man that got to me. That is the man who got to be. When I was leaving his place, he gave me the blind man's tape. When I there the first time, I wouldn't listen to him. He was playing these tapes and I didn't want to listen to the tapes. I wanted to go in the other room but he made me sit in his room. But I'd listen, but I didn't pretend that I didn�t want to listen, you know? But I was really listening. So when he played this blind man's tape, so after, you know, I pretended I didn �t hear it. So I walked up to him after the meeting, I remember and I says to him, �Would you play that tape again for me?� You know, and he did. He took me in the room and he played the tape. And when I was going out, he gave me that tape, so I had it. And that's the tape that kind of got into my head. I don't know if any one of you people over here heard that tape. It's by The Blind Man. So anyhow, that was the tape kind of that got to me. And I'm so grateful that I had a great sponsor because And he was the one who really dragged me around. And without him, I don't know if, because I was very, very, no good in the meetings. If you got up and you said something, I'd say, tell me, I would say, shut up, I heard you yesterday. I said, don't give me that God damn bullshit, and I'd go on and on and on and I got thrown out of three meetings. They tossed me out, but I came back. They never said I shouldn't come back, but at the time, I was so loud and boisterous that if it was smoking, I'd pull the cigarettes out of their mouth and so forth. But I hung in there. About four years into this program came the time when I said, is this all there is to this? I said, Jesus Christ, do I have to go to these god-darned basements and smoky basements and walk in these things all the rest of my life? I got to thinking like that. Is that all there is to life and so forth and so on? And my sponsor happened. I was telling him this stuff. And he says to me, I says, this is nothing but a gosh-dumb click. This is after four years. And I said, this is nothing but a click. And I says, I'm tired of this stuff, I was telling him. So he says to me, why didn't I try to get in one of them clicks? You know, so forth and so on. And by golly, at least he said something to me that made me kind of think a little bit and start pounding the book at me, you know, and uh telling me about the fourth step because i was going to these meetings with eddie with north down in san mateo but the first year i was in this bob took me every week to a step meeting that was with mullins and uh and at north they had opened up that meeting in san matteo as a step meeting so i went through you know i had a little idea what this what this was all about, but I wasn't living there at all. All I was doing because Bob took me there. And the funny part about this thing is from the beginning, see, Bob was in the police department. I didn't know that. I did not know he was a policeman. And at that time, the police apartment had a unit within the police department that took care of their own people. And a guy by the name of Frank Sullivan started the program. him. He would take these policemen to meetings. These are the policemen that were in Alcoholics Anonymous and Frank, his job was just to take them around to meetings so when Bob took me, when I was going with Bob, Bob would go where the policeman would go. I did not know that were there they were policemen see I didn't know all this stuff so because if I had known it would have been all over because I hated cops priests and judges they would have it all over baby but we would go but then I found out who would go to a meeting and that big fat man I called him that was Frank Sullivan I I knew he was a cop because one time we had something in common, and he would take me. But I did not know the other guys were cops, so when Bob would take me to a meeting they used to go all over like the Alameda and the Santa Fe and the Stockton the San Jose and so forth every different places and I'd say to him I don't want to go that meeting no more that big fat man I don't wanna go there no more no more so he said no no we won't go that meeting we'll go somewhere else and by golly I'd go there here's that big fat man because he was going where they were going but I soon got to liken them people not soon but it took a little time and I got to like in the you know I knew, but then I found out they were policemen and I found out that they were pretty good people, the ones in AA. And then I got to liking some of them and they treated me real nice and that helped a lot. That helped a hell of a lot with me because I had somebody there, you know, they would talk decent to me and wouldn't call me. It was it was a very very very very good experience for me. And then later Frank died, and the guy by the name of Mickey Heskett took over the police unit, and then Mickey died, then the guy John Divine took over the Police Unit, and they kept it going for a while, and it broke up. But the police Police had a department, Whitman Department, they had their own AA unit, but it was undercover kind of deal. And all Frank had to do, his job in the police department was that, just taking care of the drunk, just taking them to meetings. That was the whole, the only thing that he had to go. And I guess it worked pretty good because there was a lot of policemen coming in, you know, at that time. Then the firemen start coming and so forth. And I was very fortunate because, as I said before, after four years I got into this thing and I finally had taken my fourth step because Bob kind of pushed me. It wasn't the best I could do I done at that time. My life kind of changed after that. I got a little active I got active in it. I was secretary, at least, I was a secretary in three different groups at one time as secretary. So I was kind of involved in this thing pretty good and I'm so grateful that I hung in there because our life at home got better. My wife kept talking to me, you know, good. It wasn't that harping and growling. And I moved in from the basement to upstairs. And, you know, so it was, it started to be a pleasant life. I started to go to work and making some money and so forth. And then I enjoyed it very well. I'm one of those that owe my life to AA. Since I've been, I came here, honest to God, I come in you're absolutely broke." We were penniless. We were absolutely pennilESS. Didn't have a damn dime. Poor woman was, people were giving us stuff and bringing in furniture because I chopped everything up and anything that was, I destroyed it all. So that's the condition I came into this program. And then finally while I was in here, you know, I love it and I had a brother that died from alcoholism. My dad died from alcoholism and I'm very, very fortunate because I had the pleasure to go on. I've been to Hawaii nine times since I'm sober. Nine times. I've been on five sober sailor cruises, you know, since I was sober. I have been on 5 world conferences since I am sober. And before this, before AA, now I was pretty wealthy. I had money and I never been anyplace. The The only place I've ever been is where business took me. Where business took me from one place to another. I had offices in five different, I had an office in Chicago and Minneapolis and then San Diego and Denver and Los Angeles and San Francisco of course. So I was always on the move, and then of course I went through bankruptcy in 62. And today I could honestly say that I live in Millbrae with the rich people, you know? And it's been very good. My daughter is in AA for 19 years. She celebrated her 19th year, and I don't know. My wife wants me in Al-Anon, God only knows. My last drink was January the 8th, 1965, so I had 31 years this January. And let's say that those three years of playing around before I got sober, so that would be 34 and seven years, 41 years my wife's been in Al Anon for a long time. Thank God for that. So, with this program and the people in it, you know, it's not only that the drinking part of this thing we talk about now or I talk about it or people talk about But that isn't what I got out of it. The best thing I got from this is life, living. You know, it taught me a new way of life. And I haven't been arrested in over 30 years. I haven' been in jail. I haven''t been in a fight in over thirty years. I haven ''t had my head busted in over twenty years. I haven.'' You know because everything I've ever done was boost connected. it. I was loud and had a big mouth, and don't tell me, you know, because it was a terrible life from the beginning. But anyway, I have a grandson now that's got... And I just went through Project 90, and he's got 12 months, you know sobriety and and our whole family is oriented around this and and it's a pro if the first when you come around first you it's booze is the problem you got booze and you think it's boos and you want to get rid of that of the exceptions obsession but later you find out that living is the problem you know living in those well if you live this program it's It's a sweet way of life. I don't see how you can get in trouble if you live it, you know? Because how are you going to get in troublem? If you did it, and you tell the guy you did, so what? It's all over. It's over now. And this one, you don't have to lie and so forth. I enjoy it. I go to meetings still. I go at least three meetings a week yet. And I enjoy them. and I met the friends I got now. I met a lot of people, and so forth. So I'm very grateful to the AA and the people in the AA, and especially, you know, I heard Chamberlain talk. I've heard Jack Webb talk. He was the one that had the program of Captain Midnight on radio. I've heard Walter O'Keefe talk. They all talked at Bobby Post's meeting here in Daly City. She used to get all these celebrities from all over and you know and when in my earlier days, and that impressed me an awful lot. Now I can't say that I was sarcastic and then you know I was very very impressed with with those people talking, and knowing that not only bums get sober but people get sober. You don't have to be a damn bum because they were well-to-do and so forth, but they had wonderful stories. I think there isn't very much more I can say because time is going to run out. With that, I'll say that even I enjoy this and I enjoy the work that you're doing. And if I can help you, I will. Thank you very much. All right. Now, I'm going to introduce Bob. Yeah, this is my second time here with Alberto, and I'd like to thank Alberto for doing all this work. It's a labor of love, that's for sure. And Stan, thank you. I've been known to Stan for a long time and been friendly with him, and we don't always agree on things. But at the same token, he's come a long way, and I appreciate that, and he hands his meetings. I brought some information. My name is Bob, by the way. I'm still an alcoholic, and you might find it interesting for information. I asked my wife. She was one of the first women before as known as Al-Anon. It wasn't known as al-Anan. And they met with other women because they were closed meetings. They weren't allowed in the meeting, believe it or not, in 1945. And she said we would call ourselves a family group. And there was one woman, Marie Zimmerman, who was a girlfriend of a fellow whose name escapes me right now. A lot of things escape me at my age. and they asked the acting secretary, O.K. Posey, they used to go down to the Palace Hotel because we'd meet at 143 Bush, which was only a block or so away from the Palace Hostel, and they didn't sit there because they had no place to go. So one day my wife asked O. K., who was kind of a majordomo around their club there, it wasn't even called the Alamo Club, it was just a meeting place, big room. They had a couple of small rooms, and if they could use this office, a small office to meet. That's where they met. It was called the family group. Another woman was in there, my wife is writing this, another woman named Niece Avalon then joined with them and several other women came and we talked and that wasn't called Al-Anon, it was called Family Group. And that was 1945 or 46. I brought some information that I gave to Alberto he can keep about the history of AA and Bill W. And I might read this into the record. It's a copy of a letter from the Secretary's Newsletter in March of 1987, which he asked the secretary. It was a guy named Bill. I don't know who he was. And he asked Paul Gee, who I knew very well, of Mill Valley, who cared for the fellowship in his office for many years if he had passed on any recollections of her beginnings. So he wrote down there And he was a girl named Ann Newark, and she was the acting unpaid secretary in a very small place in the office at 143 Bush. And sometime in 1947, actually I remember this very well because I moved the furniture up to that place. It was called the San Francisco Fellowship Open and Office in the 700 block. I believe it was a 690 something, but that's neither here nor there. There was one room office with a desk, typewriter, and the first paid secretary was named Bob George. After him came O.K. Posey, then Danny O'Connor. He was taken drunk. Paul is writing this. And Jack Irving, Harriet Hudgens, Paul Gardner, Gene McKenna, not Gene, Jenna McKenна, and yourself, meaning Bill. In 1950, they moved the office to a Gary Street location, not the one you remember, but further down Gary toward Market. We shared the floor with the bartender's union. One day, a wild and screaming woman showed up in the AA office, and she raised merry hell, screaming and cursing, using language offensive to the bartenders' tender ears. The other deems were called and carted the lady off to the local slammer. This unseemly conduct so affronted the broad tennis union personnel who issued an ultimatum to the building management, either AA goes or we go. And we was thrown out. From there, we moved to the 166th area where we spent many happy years until again we were asked to move but for a different reason. And you have the rest of this story right in front of you and it's a signed Paul. I thought that was interesting. If you want this, Alberto, you may keep it. And then this is nothing. I'm not going to read this. It's too long. But you see, we have our handout to help others in AA, but this is a story about a man in Arkansas who had his handout for money and property, and he ripped off a lot of AAs to the amount of $4 million. And it's in here if you want to read it later, Alberto or copy it. You can keep all this. And then there's a short article here about how the Lord's Prayer got into the AA thing. It was Bill W., who was, of course, the co-founder or the founder, really, of AA. He says that he did not know how it came about, but he says it did not put speakers to the task of embarrassing themselves with composing prayers of their own. So they used that, and that's supposed to be the beginning of the Lord'S Prayer. And then, of course, it has changed a lot since then. I don't care for it either. When people say whose father and all that, I don' t believe in it. But the thing is they do it. And so there was many things happened. And Alberto showed me stuff here about Eddie Fitzgerald, who I knew very well and worked with for a while. And then we started a few groups. I've said this last week, so I don't want to repeat it again. And one of the greatest inspirations I ever had was going to San Quentin. And one thing that stands out, I can't remember the names of people I went with, but we'd go in one of our cars and drive over to San Francisco. And at one time, most of the time we'd conduct a meeting, and the room was full. It was really full with inmates from, I guess, to get out of their cells. And so anyway, there was one man came up, and he was an inmate. I'll never forget him. He had a big stack of papers under his arms, and I started squirming in my seat. I said, am I going to sit here and listen to this guy read all that crap? I didn't even know what he had in it, but I didn' like it. But he didn't. He had it up, he laid it on the podium, him. And he says, what his name was I forget, he said, I've been here a lot. I'm a three-time loser and the only way I'm going to come out of San Quentin is on a marble slab. He said, I spent many hours in my cell over these years and I wrote down the things that happened to me and maybe if somebody would read it they could save them the trip that I had been taken. And he said, then I got it all ready and I tore it all up. I figured I could talk a blue streak, but nobody's going to listen. You have to do it yourself. And I, and he impressed me with that kind of a talk. And of course didn't read all that stuff. That was just a prop. But the thing is, that was one of the great things. We also started the teleservice. We were Rieger Beavers at the time. And we thought we'd have these phone calls when the office wasn't open. I had a paid secretary there, and the office was not open. What to do about the poor drunk that was after hours? How do you get a hold of him? How does he follow through? We were very eager, Beaver. We thought we would do it for 24 hours a day. It was a complicated system to set up. We had to have people in AA who were willing to take calls, but we could not give everybody's phone number out to everybody. You know, so we had a central office where we had telephone answering service in which they had the names of certain people for certain nights between certain hours. So we used to do it for 24 hours. Well, after 10 o'clock at night or midnight, all you got was drunks. And so we decided that was a waste of time. You know? They were barred closed or something like that. And so we'd try to get their name and phone number and call them first thing in the morning. Well, I was on that for a long time, and I did it a few times. And I tell you what, the people in the mornings when you talked to them at 6 or 7, 30 in the morning before they got started again, they were embarrassed as hell and didn't even know he had called you. So anyway, we cut out the after-hours stuff and kept it up until about 10 or 11 at night, and that was it. And I know there was a lot of temptations in these things. I remember one time I talked to a woman on the phone, and she wanted somebody to come over. She said, why don't you come over? See? Very cute. I said, I had no way. And anyhow, it was very interesting. I met a lot good people in AA, like the two here in front of me, and you too, Alberto. I haven't known you very long, but I tell you, very sincere in what you do. And I'm going to have to drag this off because I had some other things to say and I can't remember them, but this has been a wonderful trip for me. And people say I've been in since November 45, and I had a very good anniversary upstairs here at the meeting. I only come now once a week here to the West Bay Alamo Club on a Friday for the meeting I used to be more active, but I don't anymore, more for health reasons than anything else. And at the same token, I owe my life to this place. I heard Stan say it and Albert say it, and I'm sure everybody will say it. Because if I didn't have it, when I came into AA, I was trying to drink myself sober. And, of course, you can't do that. But the thing is, God bless you, Albert, for trying doing all this because it's going to get lost one day. I remember the first woman in AA spoke and I heard her speak. Also, I can't think of her name. What? Marty Mann. Marty Mann, yeah, Marty Mann and she talked and I remember when the anonymity is very important to me and it's very important in AA because you go by the wayside. Eddie Fitzgerald, who I quoted here, he told a story one time about when he was in Boston and he had a sponsor. I forget who his name was. And the sponsor's name was Pat, say, for example. That may not be his name. And Eddie hung on to Pat. And everything he did, Pat says, I have to do this. Pat says do this . . . Pat tells me this. He says, Pat got drunk and so did I. And it's true. You know, you're going to go by the book. The program of AA is in the big book. The first woman to violate this anonymity at the time was a, I'll Cry Tomorrow. They made a movie out of it, her story. But she was in AA and violated her anonymity. And there's a picture up on the wall here showing Ray Moland and that picture of the last weekend. And I remember going to that movie, and I can identify with it because he was looking for his bottle, and they found it finally in the lamp in the shade up in the ceiling. And when my wife left me up in Marysville, I was in the Army. And we were renting a little house, and I knew I had a quart of bourbon. That's one of my favorite drinks, bourbon." I used to drink that awful stuff seven up in Southern Comfort. Boy, what a sickening thing. Anyway, the thing is, she had left me, and I was searching for that bottle, and I tore that house apart. I knew it was there. Finally, after we came in the A, My wife and I, we've been together ever since I came in at 8 1⁄2. One of those fortunate ones never take a drink. I asked her, do you remember I had a bottle? I forget the street we lived on. And did you ever find it? She said, yeah, I found it, and I poured it down the sink. Well, I don't blame you now, but I would have killed you before, you know. Okay, Alberto, I've got to stop this. I could ramble, and it is rambling. But thanks again, and thank you, Stan, and thank you Albert for being around, just being around. Because sometimes this is a better meeting for me today than the one I may attend upstairs. And sometimes everybody doesn't make it, you know. If there was anything easy about this drinking, none of us would be here, would it? We'd stopped a long time ago. But I don't know what it is, but I'm sure glad it happened to me. Thanks again, Alvaro.