“Across her desk came thousands of pleas for help from individuals…”
Your National Secretary
Early in 1942 Ruth Hock, the nonalcoholic secretary who had typed the Big Book and answered AA’s mail since 1939, left to be married. (No form letters, in Jittery and Alone, tells her years at the old post office box.) Her desk went to Bobbie B. Pass It On describes her as a former dancer and an AA member. Bill W. counted her AA’s second national secretary.
She took over a job that had just grown. The Saturday Evening Post’s article of March 1941 had taken AA from about 2,000 members to 8,000 by the end of that year, and new groups sprang up, most of them with nothing to guide them but the Big Book, a traveler now and then, and letters from New York. Committees quarreled, groups split wide open, and “sometimes whole groups got drunk,” Bill wrote. For several years, by his account, Bobbie “faced almost single-handed the huge aftermath of group problems” the article left behind.
She answered them by letter. In March 1945 the first group in Australia wrote to her from Sydney to say it had formed. That October she wrote to a new Black group in St. Louis, offering to put it in touch with another in Washington. (Two dollars a night, in The Only Requirement, tells the Washington group’s start.)
On May 1, 1944, the office moved from Vesey Street, downtown, to three rooms at 415 Lexington Avenue, across from Grand Central, because so many members were passing through New York. The mail went to a new address: P. O. Box 459, Grand Central Annex. By 1948 about 200 travelers came through the door each month and more than 2,000 letters came in, and the staff had grown to sixteen full-time workers, four of them AA members.
Out of letters like these, chiefly, Bill wrote, came AA’s Traditions. (Rule 62 tells how.) When Bobbie died, he put it plainly: “It was out of this experience that AA’s tradition was formed.”
The work wore on her. By 1949, Bill wrote, she was “exhausted to the cracking point,” caught in the middle of his fight with the trustees for a General Service Conference. (The quarter mile, in Number One Man, tells that fight.) A later manager of the office places her leaving at about that time; Go deeper has the accounts.
In his Twelve Concepts for World Service, published in 1962, Bill told how the office had once depended on one highly paid staff member with assistants under her, until “suddenly she collapsed,” and soon one of her assistants did too. “Thereafter we installed the principle of rotation in a considerably larger staff.” He named no one, and none of the histories used here says whom he meant, but the office in 1949 fits. Its staff began trading assignments in 1950 or 1951 (the accounts differ), and they have taken turns ever since.
Bobbie died in her sleep on February 17, 1953, of what Bill called “an unforeseen heart ailment.”
It’s March 1944, at AA’s office on Vesey Street in lower Manhattan. In a single month, the national secretary and her three assistants write 2,695 letters. The secretary is Bobbie B., a former dancer, and an alcoholic. She took over two years ago, when Ruth Hock left to be married.
Since a magazine story in 1941, new groups have sprung up everywhere, and their quarrels pour into her mail. In May the office moves uptown, across the street from Grand Central, and the letters start coming to Box 459. Out of letters like these will come AA’s Traditions.
By 1949 she is exhausted, and soon she leaves. Years later Bill W. writes, naming no one, about an office that leaned on one woman until she collapsed. His lesson: no one person should carry it all. The staff take turns from then on.