PO Box 1980

I enjoyed reading the articles on anonymity in the December issue. It was the promise of personal anonymity that enabled me to come to AA for help twenty-four years ago. I was an Air Force V.I.P. pilot, and I was convinced that if my bosses found out I was attending AA, I would lose my job. Who wants to fly with an alcoholic at the controls? (But then, who wants an alcoholic surgeon or cab driver, etc?) Of course, the problem is one of definition: Before I got help, I was only a fun-loving, heavy drinker to my superiors and co-workers; they weren't aware of the terrible price my disease was beginning to exact and the moral, physical, and mental bankruptcy that was imminent. Only after seeking help and doing the First Step did I become an "alcoholic." (Sometimes, it seems to be more socially acceptable to be a practicing alcoholic than a recovering one.) My view is that you can be the town drunk, walking down Main Street naked except for the lampshade on your head and still receive help and anonymity when you walk through the doors of AA.