Some Longtime Views – Grapevine Article March 1984 By P.O.

MAY A SPECIAL shaft of serenity shine upon some alcoholic who thought up and shared that pleasant word “long-timer” instead of “old-timer.” I must reciprocate with some long-time views!

One month ago, I shared my thirty-fifth AA birthday on a Sunday night at a meeting in Rondebosch. There was no banquet, no bells, not even a birthday cake. The only concession was a tape recording of the talk. But in that hall, love cascaded over me and poured over my wife, Jessie, who, on one unforgettable morning in 1947, beseeched me to write to New York for help when I was dying of alcoholism at the age of twenty-five here in South Africa.

There was no phone number to call; regular meetings were to materialize much later; there was no local box to write to furtively, no material proof in the form of a sponsor to show my trembling vision that AA worked. That was the way it was. That was the way it had to be–for me. I was perpetually terrified, a mass of fluctuating suspicions, so thin-skinned and painfully sensitive to the slightest vibrations of authority that if there had been a nearby AA group or central office, I doubt if I would have made contact with it.

For me at that time, it had to be done through the quiet power of the written word, initiated by Bobby, at the AA General Service Office in New York, and embossed by Ann M., Bill, and Bob, who sent such love in so many letters over many years. As compulsively as I used to drink, I now felt a celestial obsession with AA sobriety, and my exhilaration forced me to write all over the States for any crumbs that they could spare. They sent me whole cakes of indescribable mental richness, iced with humility, laughter, and alcoholic love. After groups were formed here, Bill W.’s guidance often saved us from calamity.

One day, the Big Book (it had somehow been overlooked) was placed in my hands at five in the afternoon, when I arrived home from work. As I recollect, I had been undergoing the early pangs of “monotonous” sobriety that we often feel around our fifth month in AA, when we haven’t a clue about the program. There was a cup of tea on the kitchen table, ready. Next to the steaming cup was the book, in a navy blue cover–Alcoholics Anonymous, 1948 printing.

I finished reading this masterpiece at six the following morning. The tea, now cold, remained untouched; the ashtray, empty. I hadn’t had time to loosen my tie or remove my jacket. Only once did I leave the table; then, the book went with me to the bathroom. It was the greatest, most artistically crafted journal of recovery, and it still is. I was spellbound by the majesty of the wording, the delicacy of the suggestions, catering to the individuality of each alcoholic. At last, this whole venture made sense! For me, the essence of it lay in the second paragraph on page 164: “He will show you how to create the Fellowship you crave.”

I have read this beloved book over and over. It still uplifts, inspires, and guides. Through the years, I have read thousands of books and pamphlets, but the Big Book is still the superstar. The love flowing from its pages encourages me to keep the blade of my sobriety ever sharp and gleaming, to cut through all the ignorance and terror that surround still-suffering alcoholics. When their tears dry and the pain recedes, I see in their eyes the image of God, always illuminating the Fellowship of which I am a part, thanks to him and to all of you.