“I am not an alcoholic. I don’t even like to drink.”
The other side of the door
Around 1939, AA members began holding a closed meeting once a week, for alcoholics only. A handful of their wives began meeting by themselves. “At first we either played bridge or gossiped,” Lois W. wrote.
Soon they were talking about their own problems instead, and finding that none of them had to face those alone. By June 1940, as Lois remembered it, they were meeting at AA’s first clubhouse in New York while the alcoholics held their closed meeting.
The families had been there from the start, in the mid-1930s. In Brooklyn the alcoholics gathered at Lois’s house, and their wives, children, parents and friends counted themselves part of the group. Whenever anybody had a car, they piled in and drove to a meeting in New Jersey, Philadelphia or Akron, often all night.
They came to help the drinker, not themselves. Most of them felt, Lois said, that what they had been through at the alcoholics’ hands “set us above them spiritually.” Then, by degrees, they watched their mates grow and saw themselves falling behind.
MoreLois and the shoe
Lois said the families tried to live by the program too, “but often only in a superficial way” at first. She had begun to see it was meant for her as well in the mid-1930s, the Sunday she threw a shoe at Bill W. Captain of My Soul tells that story.
In 1941 a Saturday Evening Post article brought thousands of newcomers into AA, and their families found groups beside AA in many cities. Some were what Lois called coffee-and-cake groups. The wives made the coffee, served the cake and hung the clubhouse curtains, and “any spiritual growth was just a side issue.”
In St. Paul, Minnesota, in the 1940s, one wife went with her husband when he called on drinkers. Her job was to talk with the drinker’s wife and keep her out of the way while he talked to the alcoholic. It seemed to help, she said.
Not every group was a place to bring your own troubles. In 1950, a member from Chicago remembered, the groups she knew met in houses, by invitation only. If your husband drank again, there was nothing more they could do for you, and you politely left.
“Whenever my husband had a slip, I quickly learned not to tell the ladies…”
The groups went by many names: AA auxiliaries, Triple A, Non-Alcoholics Anonymous. Some rewrote AA’s Steps for themselves (Step One, five ways, below). The first group AA’s office registered, in Long Beach, California, on March 1, 1945, called its version the “Non-Alcoholic Steps.”
MoreBorrowed words
Long Beach’s leaflet borrowed passages from the Big Book’s chapter for wives (By the Carload) without saying so.
In Regina, Saskatchewan, from 1949, the groups were N.A.A., for Non-Alcoholics Anonymous. Go deeper, below, follows one family there.
In July 1949 Coronet, a magazine with two million readers, printed a member’s account of the family groups. Its first lines are the ones that open this page.
A year later an AA member who had taken the family groups for knitting circles was lured into one of their meetings. He expected to hear complaints about the drinking husbands, and heard none. The wives, he wrote in the AA Grapevine, were “examining themselves—not us!”
They still had no office of their own. That year Bill W. came home from a tour of the groups and told Lois the families needed one. Captain of My Soul tells what she did next.
MoreFive dollars, sent back
Until then, AA’s office and its Grapevine passed along the family groups’ addresses. In 1950 AA’s office sent back $5 a family group member had sent it, since it now took money only from AA groups.
It’s the late 1930s, in Brooklyn. The alcoholics who gather at Lois W.’s house have brought their families: wives, mothers, fathers, children. When somebody has a car, they all pile in and drive through the night to a meeting in New Jersey or Akron. And when they get there, the families gather on their own, for a serious talk, or a game of bridge, or a cup of tea. Most of them think they don’t need the program themselves.
Over the next ten years, groups of families spring up in many of the places AA does. They call themselves auxiliaries, or Non-Alcoholics Anonymous, and some write their own version of the Steps.
In 1950 an AA member who’d taken them for knitting circles goes to one of their meetings, and writes about what he found. These wives, he says, are examining themselves. Not us.