HE THOUGHT HE COULD DRINK
LIKE A GENTLEMAN
I WAS BORN in Cleveland, Ohio,
in 1889, the last child of a family of eight children. My parents were hard working
people. My father was a railroad man and a Civil War veteran. I can remember that in my
childhood, he was ill at ease with the children because he attempted to assert an army
discipline that had been ground into him during his three and a half years of army
service. The differences between my father and my sisters, who were school teachers,
made an excellent environment for the type of child I was—that is, slick and cute enough
to take advantage of any adult quarrel. In other words, I was always safe from the
discipline of my father, and, having developed along that line, I had considerable
difficulty in school. Rules were made for others, but not for me. Of course, it was
always my aim to have my own way without being caught.
My mother was eighty-nine years old when she died, and I was a full-blown alcoholic at
the time of her death. She was a woman devoted to her family and loyal to her husband,
but quarrels did not make a happy environment for her. I had four brothers and three
sisters. As I look back, all the brothers devel-
oped personality problems. The sisters seemed to remain unaffected.
I seemed to react by developing a streak of varying meanness, which would cause me to do
things to create excitement and to get attention. I very early sampled the effects of
alcohol. In fact, on one occasion, I was picked up by the police and brought home. I was
then about sixteen years old. I didn't go to high school. I went to five grade schools,
primarily because I was expelled for my conduct, but I eventually graduated from the
eighth grade.
I was always interested in machanics and after having about twenty miscellaneous jobs,
lasting from one day to two weeks, I obtained a job as a toolmaker apprentice. Being
intensely interested in the work, I changed my conduct sufficiently to master the job. I
finished my apprenticeship and was moved into the drafting department. That was in
Cleveland. As a draftsman, I worked for several large companies and gained a variety of
experience. Not far from where I lived they built a new technical high school and one of
the teachers sold me on the idea that I needed a little machanical drawing if I were
going to be a good toolmaker. I proceeded to take up the drawing and advanced rapidly in
it. The school then obtained a job for me in the drafting department of another company.
After I was on the drafting board about two years I decided I wanted a technical
education. I was then about eighteen. I did not have a high school education so I went
to night school to take the full high school course, which I finished in two years and
nine months. I apparently was willing to subdue these personality disturbances in a
tremendous drive to succeed. I had an objective. I could discipline myself but along
the way there would be festivities and occasions when I got drunk.
Although, during this period I was not addicted to any pattern of alcohol consumption,
when I did drink the drinking was pretty wild.
I then entered Case School and worked while I went to school and finished there. This
was an engineering college. Following graduation, I was offered a pretty good job which
I took. In the fall of the graduating year, I became involved in some litigation over
the ownership of inventions and patents. This experience sent me to law school where I
went at night and which course I completed in less than three years, taking the highest
state bar examinations and passing them. The law school experience was not inspired by a
desire to follow patent law, which has been my profession since: I went to law school
primarily to learn the law of contracts following my own experience with litigation. A
year later, after I completed the course in contracts, I quit the law school, and
undertook some engineering work for a patent law firm on behalf of clients who were in
diffculties and who desired to keep their troubles from their own engineering
department. This work consumed a period of about two-thirds of a year, and worked out
successfully so I decided to follow patent law. I went back to law school, and doubled
up on the courses because I was then approaching thirty years of age and I wanted to get
through as quickly as possible. I was supporting myself through all this education by
being a toolmaker and a draftsman.
I married when I was twenty-eight years old, and started in law school after I was
married. As a matter
of fact, I had two children at the time I was admitted to the
bar.
I kept myself so busy that, outside of some school and group parties, I didn't go
overboard on drinking very much between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. My life was
fairly well crowded and I didn't seem to need any stimulants to keep me going. By the
time I had completed law school I had picked up some experience in patent law, for I
remained with the patent law firm and worked too in Washington where they found that I
was a capable infringement investigator. In 1924, I had acquired enough clients of my
own so that the firm made me a junior partner. My drinking career began about four years
after I had moved up into partnership and had joined certain clubs, societies and so
forth, and during which period we had Prohibition. I was then about thirty-seven or
thirty-eight.
All during Prohibition, every alcoholic felt that he made the best hootch, regardless of
how bad it was. I became a specialist in making elderberry blossom wine.
There had been some occasions—there was an automobile wreck, for instance—when I had
police escort home but not to jail, all of which, instead of doing me a favor, did me
harm because I was then full of self-esteem as to the progress I had made both
professionally and financially. The first definite indications of an alcoholic pattern
began to arise when I would go to New York on business and disappear, and wind up in
Philadelphia or Boston for two or three day periods. I would have to return to New York
and pick up my bills and bags. These periods became more frequent
and I resolved that when I became forty, which was very shortly, I
was going on the wagon. Forty came and went and then the resolution was advanced to
forty-one, forty-two, and so on in the usual pattern. I realized that I had a problem,
although my realization was not very deep because my own conceit wouldn't admit that I
had any personality problems. I could not see why I couldn't drink like a gentleman, and
that was my primary ambition—until I landed in A.A. This pattern deepened and became
worse. I became a constant drinker with a terrific fight to control the amount of my
consumption each day.
My practice had advanced to the point where it could stand a lot of abuse and it got it.
Whenever a situation arose that fast talk wouldn't explain away, I simply withdrew. In
other words, I fired the client before the client fired me. I was willful, full of will
to do things I wanted to do and to get the things that I wanted to have.
Insofar as religion was concerned, I had Catholic training in my youth. I went to both
Catholic and public schools. I never left the church, but I was a fringe member, and the
thought simply never occurred to me that through the exercise of what I had I might find
the answer to my problem, simply because I wouldn't admit that I had a problem. The
successful demonstration I had made of my life problems in other respects convinced me
that some day I was going to be able to drink like a gentleman.
When I was about forty-seven, after indulging in all kinds of self-deception to control
my drinking, I arrived at a period when I felt convinced I had to have so much alcohol
every day and that the real problem
was to control how much. After two or three years of effort along
this line, I reached the point of acual despair that I ever would be able to drink only
a harmless amount each day. And then my thinking became calculation as to how much
longer I had to live, how long the assets would last. By that time, I had one boy in
college, another a senior in high school, and a daughter about twelve years old. My
efficiency as a professional man was probably reduced to twenty-five per cent of what it
should have been.
I had two partners. They suffered from my conduct without saying anything, but the
reason for this was that I still managed to hang onto a very substancial practice. They
probably felt that it was useless, that surely I had enough intelligence to know what I
was doing. They were wrong. They never raised the issue. In fact, as I look back, I have
often thought that they probably concluded that they would put up with me for a couple
of years, that I couldn't live much longer, and that they would inherit whatever was
left of the practice. That is not unusual.
As far as my home was concerned, I did not see then, though of course I can see now,
that it was anything but a happy situation for my wife. My children had lost respect for
me and, in fact, it was only after three or four years of sobriety that any of them ever
said anything to me to indicate that I had recouped even a little of their respect.
I was forty-nine and a half years old when I was first approached about the Akron Group.
It was not known to me as a group, but I later learned that my wife had known about it
for nine months and had prayed constantly that I would stumble into Akron
some way or another. She knew that at that time any suggestion she
made about my drinking would only build up a barrier, a consideration for which I am
ever grateful. Had anyone undertaken to explain to me what the A.A. movement was, what
it's real function was, I probably would have been set back several years and I doubt if
I would have survived at all.
So the story of my introduction into A.A. begins with the activities of my wife. She had
a hairdresser who used to tell her about a brother-in-law who had been quite a drinker
and about some doctor in Akron who had straightened him out. My wife didn't tell me
this, but one Sunday afternoon when Mary was trying to get the cobwebs out of my mind,
Clarence and his sister-in-law, the hairdresser, called at the house. I was introduced
to them and Clarence proceeded to put on his Twelve Step work. I was kind of shocked
about anybody talking about themselves the way he did, and my impression was that the
guy was a little "touched." However, on a couple of other occasions, Clarence seemed to
bob up at the last saloon that I would stop at on the way home every day. I resented it
of course, and I offered Clarence his commission, whatever it might be, if he would
please not bother me because I had arived at the conclusion that he was a solicitor for
some alcoholic institute. One evening I had gone out after dinner to take on a couple of
double-headers and stayed a little later than usual, and when I came home Clarence was
sitting on the davenport with Bill W. I do not recollect the specific conversation that
went on but I believe I did challenge Bill to tell me something about A.A. and I do
recall one other thing: I wanted to know what this was that
worked so many wonders, and hanging over the mantel was a picture of
Gethsemane and Bill pointed to it and said, "There it is," which didn't make much sence to
me. There was also some conversation about Dr. Bob and I must have said that I would go down
to Akron with Bill in the morning.
The next morning, my wife came into my room and wakened me and said, "That man is downstairs
and he said you said you'd go to Akron." I said, "Did I say that?" She said. "Well, he
wouldn't be here if you didn't say so." And being a big-shot man of my word, I said, "Well,
if I said so, then I'll go." That's about the spirit in which I went to Akron. Bill bought
me a drink or two on the way, and Dorothy S. came with us, and the three of us went over to
the City Hospital. We drove my car and I left it down in the yard. Bill left me at the
elevator and said, "Your room is so and so," and I didn't see him again for six months. The
interne came along with a glassful of bleached lightning that put me away for about fifteen
hours. I went into the hospital in April, 1939.
My experience in the hospital I considered to be terrific because Dr. Bob told me very
quickly that medicine would have very little to do with it, outside of trying to restore my
appetite for food. I had had no hospitalization up to this time because I would not call
doctors when I was getting over a bad one. I would use barbiturates. In fact, the last three
years of my drinking was a routine of barbiturates in the morning, so that I could stop
shaking enough to shave, and then alcohol beginning about four-thirty or five o'clock, with
a struggle not to take a drink at noon or during the day, because I had the idea that if I
took
one drink, I would smell as though I had a pint.
Dr. Bob did not lay out the whole program. He startled me by informing me that he was an
alcoholic, that he had found a way which so far enabled him to live without taking a
drink, and that the main idea was to find a way how not to take that first drink. He
told me that there were some other fellows that had tried this with success, and if I
cared to see any of them he'd have them come in to see me. I believe every member of the
Akron Group did come to see me, which impressed me terrifically, not so much because of
the stories they told, but because they would take the time to come and talk to me
without even knowing who I was. I did not know there was such a thing as group activity
until I left the hospital. I left on a Wednesday afternoon, had dinner in Akron and then
went to a house where I encountered my first meeting. I had attended several of these
meetings before I discovered that all those who were there were not alcoholics. That is,
it was sort of a mixed bunch of Oxford Groupers, who were interested in the alcoholic
problem, and of alcoholics themselves. My reaction to those meetings was good. In fact,
I never lost my faith, since I had been prepared by some conversations toward the end of
my sojourn in the hospital with Dr. Bob, conversations pretty much along spiritual
lines. There was one experience with Doc which made a terrific impression upon me. The
afternoon that I was to leave the hospital, he came in to see me and asked me if I were
willing to attempt to follow the program. I told him that I had no other intention. That
was at the end of eight days in which I had had no liquor. He then pulled up his chair
with one of his
knees touching mine and said, "Will you pray with me for your
success?" And he then said a beautiful prayer. That was an experience that I have never
forgotten, and many times in my own work with A.A. newcomers I feel kind of guilty
because I haven't done the same thing.
One of the things that came up repeatedly in the stories they told me was that once they
had accepted the program, they never had a desire to take a drink. That was skeptically
recieved by me when I first heard it, but after some twenty-eight or thirty fellows had
come to see me, and pretty nearly all of them had said the same thing, I began to
believe it. In my own experience I was so jubilant at finding myself sober, and I had so
many things to catch up on, that a month went by before the thought even occurred to me.
I had a genuine release right from the start. I've never had a desire to take a
drink.
Doc dwelt on the idea that this was an illness, but Doc was pretty frank with me. He
found that I had enough faith in the Almighty to be fairly frank. He pointed out to me
that probably it was more of a moral or spiritual illness than it was a physical
one.
We went to Akron for about six weeks and we did a lot of visiting among the people in
Akron. There were, at that time, in the neighborhood of twelve or thirteen Cleveland
members who had been sober anywhere from a year and a half to a couple of months. They
had all been to Akron. It was finally decided to undertake the organization of a
Cleveland group and toward the end of May, 1939, the first meeting was held in Cleveland
in my home. At that meeting, there were a number of Akron people and all the Cleveland
people.
Professionally, after I was
sober for a month or so I realized that I should school myself to dissolve the
partnership I was in because I felt that I would never regain the respect of my partners
no matter how long I was sober, and that I would be at a disadvantage. I still had
enough practice to earn a good living if I would only work, so I resolved that in
January of 1940 I would launch a patent law firm of my own.
Shortly after I came to this conclusion, I was importuned by another well-known patent
law firm to help them out on some trial work because their trial man had had a heart
attack and had been forbidden to go into the courtroom. Somewhere in one of the
conversations, I mentioned that I was comtemplating forming a new firm. On hearing that,
these people induced me to make the move immediately and join them as a senior partner,
which I did. I found in the fall of 1939, that I was not mentally impaired, so far as
trial work was concerned, and thereafter took up where I had left off when I was about
forty-five years old. My physical health was badly shaken, but I began to pick up. In
fact, after six months of living on food instead of on whiskey, I gained about thirty
pounds.
I realized that there wasn't anything I could say to place myself in a more favorable
light with my children, that it was going to be a matter of time; for I also understood
the intolerance of young people towards deficiencies in their elders. I believe though
that it helped my family tremendously to have the A.A. meetings every week in my own
home. My oldest child sometimes sat in on the meetings.
I had accepted Catholicism somewhat as an inheri-
tance. My education had been pretty much pagan—science. I resolved that if I were going to continue with the Catholic Church, I was going to know the roots of the doctrine, since those roots had caused me some confusion. So I enrolled at the university for night courses in religion, and I pursued those courses for a year. In summing up, I can say that A.A. has made me, I hope, a real Catholic.