Tool of AA

WHEN I WORKED in East Hartford, Conn., almost twenty years ago, a certain grossly unloved Swedish alcoholic worked beside me. He was in AA and not drinking, but absolutely stinko on various pills and in everyone's way, including his own. After eighteen months, he finally dog down in his pocket and presented me with a dirty old AA Grapevine. I took it home and forgot about it. After two months, I opened it up. I read two pages and I knew it was for me, so I subscribed for two years (ordered airmail).