The Big Book Connection
A message left behind
For me, getting sober required multiple sponsors. When a
sponsor no longer knew what to do with me, either I was relocated
by my employer, or that sponsor moved on for some reason. Shortly
thereafter, I would find the exact person I needed to take me through the next phase.
This was the case when I began
the most difficult portion of my Ninth Step in 1990 -- my mother. There were very difficult items to be dealt with, and I had failed on several attempts.
Each time, the same thing happened. I completed what I needed
to say, and my mother led the conversation to the same place: what a wonderful man she was married to all those years.
My father's battle with alcoholism had caused many family disasters, including bankruptcy. This
disease took him in 1965. In the ensuing years, he became a canonized saint in my mother's eyes.
My perception was quite different. As she rambled on about this wonderful man, some uncharitable
comment would fly out of my mouth. Another Ninth Step opportunity was destroyed.
In 1991, a business trip brought me close to her home in Connecticut. Then a
scheduled evening meeting was cancelled. I decided to make one more attempt and stick to my part only. I
made no caustic response to any of her statements, and the most amazing thing happened. It worked! Months of work
with my sponsor, learning "whatever happens, don't react," paid huge dividends.
Her comments on the virtues of her departed husband were the same.
"I wish I had my Big Book with me," I said. "I would like to read the introduction to the Third Step
to you. It describes him perfectly."
"I have one of those," she said.
"You have a Big Book?"
"Yes."
"Where did you get it?"
"From your uncle. He was selling
them to support the Order."
"Where is it?"
She pointed to the bookcase on top of her rolltop desk. I had looked through this bookcase many times
for something to read. As I started across the floor, I turned and asked,
"Is it red?"
"I think so."
A few seconds later, I stood with a first edition, first printing of Alcoholics
Anonymous in my hands. Two things were written on the inside cover. A date: July
17, 1939. I was five years old at thetime. The second
thing was my name. I have never been so speechless before or since.
I knew through family storiesthat my uncle, Bill R., had found
AA. I never dreamed that first contact had come in 1937. The family
stories also implied that one should exercise caution around that part of the family. Uncle Bill was hanging
out with a strange group of people, they said, and probably giving up all the family secrets. As I read his
story, I knew through family stories that my uncle, Bill R., had found AA. I never dreamed that first contact had come in 1937.
The family stories also implied that one should exercise caution around that part of the family. Uncle Bill was hanging out
with a strange group of people, they said, and probably giving up all the family secrets. As I read his story, "A Business Man's Recovery,"
many of the family tales of his wild adventures throughout Europe
and South America began to make sense. An entirely different picture of him and my relationships to the family emerged.
After this discovery, great changes evolved for me. First, a new and wonderful relationship with
my mother gradually developed. I began looking at myself differently. I saw and accepted myself for who I
really was. Most importantly, there came an ability and willingness to accept help.
In 1997, I spent a day in the General Service Office archives with Frank M. The experience of going through that history and
reviewing much of the early correspondence between my uncle and the early staff is indescribable.
Frank saved the best until last. Near the end of the day, he handed me an audiotape.
"You should really enjoy this," he said.
I was surprised to hear the voice of my Aunt Kathleen, being interviewed for background on early
AA. The wealth of information, both personal and historical, was beyond my comprehension.
I will probably never know the how or the why of that book being
set aside for me with my name in it. I do know it sat and waited over fifty--one years for me to come and
get it. Happily, today that is all I need to know.
What I do need to know is that when I am asked, or feel the urge to do something, I need to act. It is
not my responsibility to determine which actions to take, based on my analysis of what the results will be.
The impact of the book was profound. My uncle took this action with no knowledge of the end results.
It is an example I need to follow even if, like my uncle, I never know what the results will be.
The story by Andy's uncle, "A Business Man's Recovery," was in the fi rst edition of the Big Book
(AAWS). Although it no longer appeared in subsequent editions, you can read it online as a bonus article.
It is also one of fifty--six stories from earlier editions of the Big Book reprinted inExperience, Strength and Hope, available from
AAWS or at your local intergroup.
Andy R., Huntsville, Alabama
 You can download and listen to this story at AudioGrapevine
Copyright AA Grapevine, Inc. May 2006
Bonus Article
from the First Edition of the Big Book
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