“Best of all, we think, is the Servicemen’s Letter page…”
Mail call
By the spring of 1944, AA’s office in New York had records of about 300 members in the armed forces. Cut off from their groups and facing “unusual temptations,” they had, it seemed to the paper’s editors, a harder fight than most of the members at home.
A handful of New York members had talked for some time about starting a paper. In June 1944 six of them did: The Grapevine, eight pages, fifteen cents a copy, from a post office box at Grand Central. AA’s history names them as Marty M., Priscilla, Lois K., Abbott, Maeve and Kay. Their first issue described them as a cashier, a radio script writer, an author, a bookseller, an art director and “a wife and mother of two,” six “ink-stained wretches” sipping Cokes in a smoke-filled room. They promised to try it for three months.
One of their first thoughts, they wrote, was that the paper might help members in the service. It went to all the groups the office knew of in the United States and Canada, and free to members in uniform. Its “Mail Call” page quoted their letters. In December an Army lieutenant had written from a coconut grove on a new island. A Navy lieutenant on a South Pacific island went to look him up, and found he had been evacuated two days before; for four months he had been only half a mile away.
The first issue also printed letters from Honolulu. A small-boat builder there had found AA’s address at the public library in October 1943. The office answered with a single sheet, typed single-spaced on both sides so it could go airmail with a pamphlet. In December he wrote back: “You may definitely stick a pin in Honolulu on your map.” Five came to the first meeting, and they had trouble leaving in time to get home before the curfew. “If ever there was a place where the blind are leading the blind,” he added, “that place is Honolulu right now.”
The paper noticed a new kind of member, too. A Navy psychoanalyst, Dr. Florence Powdermaker, had tried the Big Book and pamphlets on tired and shell-shocked merchant seamen, “and it worked!” By spring there were about 40 of them, and they wanted a group for seamen only. In July the paper reported an AA group at Camp Peary, a Navy base in Virginia, whose members shared the same barracks.
The three months passed and the paper kept going. Letters were coming in from all over the country and abroad, Bill W. reported after its first year. The groups voted to make it AA’s own magazine, and Lois W. dates the change to December 1945. Licking stamps for thousands of copies became too much for the volunteers, Bill remembered, and the Alcoholic Foundation took it over. He called it a “meeting in print.”
It’s June 1944, in a smoke-filled room in New York. Six members, a cashier, a radio writer, an author, a bookseller, an art director and a mother of two, are pasting up an eight-page paper. They call it The Grapevine.
About three hundred AA members are in uniform, cut off from their groups, and the six have them in mind from the start. The first issue carries their letters: a lieutenant writing from a coconut grove on a new island, and another who missed him by two days.
There’s a letter from Honolulu, where five drunks have just held their first meeting, and news of merchant seamen getting sober on the Big Book. The six promise to try it for three months. The paper is still coming out today.