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When I staggered into my first AA meeting in 1989, I was shocked to find women in the room. My first thought was that the women must be there to chaperone their husbands who had lost their licenses to drive. Perhaps I had wandered into the wrong room, I thought. It sort of looked like a PTA meeting. 

It never dawned on me then that there could possibly be a woman with a drinking problem. As I saw it, alcohol was a man’s “right.” My mother, grandmothers and all my aunts rarely ever drank. My wife had one, maybe two glasses of wine at dinner. 

Nashville, Tennessee

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