“But please don’t talk any more about those damned Traditions.”
Those damned Traditions
The Traditions came out in AA’s magazine, the Grapevine, in the spring of 1946 (Twelve Points tells how). They got, Bill W. wrote, “a mixed reception. Only groups in dire trouble took them seriously.” Many members were indifferent, and some said, “Let’s keep A.A. simple” (Legacy, in Keep Coming Back, follows that phrase). Later in 1948 a New York member, George H., who had visited 370 groups, reported that oldtimers in Chicago, Cleveland and Akron wanted the Steps only; Good Oldtimers says they found the Traditions “too unwieldy.”
So Bill went out to sell them. “At this point I began to travel and talk a lot about the new principles,” he wrote. “The members listened, but were obviously bored.” Letters asked for his drinking story instead. He did all this through a long depression (The quarter mile tells it).
He kept going. In February 1948, partly to sound out the groups on the elected conference he wanted (A standing vote tells that fight), he and Lois W. crossed Canada by train, through Toronto, Winnipeg and Calgary. At Regina the city’s only member climbed aboard at 4 a.m. to greet them. They walked three miles past snowslides in the dark on the way to his father’s home in British Columbia, and in Vancouver Bill spoke about the Traditions to about 1,000. In Los Angeles, Lois remembered, about 6,000 heard Bill and Dr. Bob at the Shrine Auditorium. The trip lasted three months.
Meanwhile members were putting their names and pictures in the papers. At one point, Bill wrote, “about a hundred” were doing it. Some called anonymity “horse-and-buggy stuff”; some “actually believed that being photographed with the Governor would really help.” The office sent “remonstrances, kind ones, of course, to every breaker,” and wrote to newspapers, radio stations and publishers across the country. After that, the papers kept members’ names and faces out of AA stories, sometimes, Bill wrote, sacrificing “good stories to this end.” Bill knew the pull. He once called himself, for two or three years, “A.A.’s number one anonymity breaker,” though Pass It On says he was stretching the facts.
And the Traditions were long. Earl T., who had started AA’s Chicago group (The closing tells his first meeting), came to Bill’s home “One day in 1947, or thereabouts,” and suggested cutting them down to the length of the Twelve Steps. After “a week of wrestling” they had a first draft, and months of revision produced the final one. The Grapevine then printed the short form “in every issue.” Pass It On dates the work to 1949, in time for the convention in Cleveland.
It’s 1946, and AA has a new set of Traditions. The members aren’t interested. When Bill W. comes to speak, they want to hear where he used to hide his bottles. Please, one letter says, stop talking about those damned Traditions.
So he takes them on the road. In the winter of 1948 he and Lois cross Canada by train. At Regina, at four in the morning, the city’s only member climbs aboard to greet them.
Back home, members are getting their names and pictures in the papers. The office writes to editors all over the continent, and rewrite men cut the names out.
Then a friend from Chicago, Earl T., has an idea: make the Traditions as short as the Twelve Steps. Bill and Earl spend a week wrestling with it. The short form is the one members know today.