Aa history Lovers 2004 moderators Nancy Olson and Glenn F. Chesnut page

responsibility, maybe a double responsibility. It may be that we have a date

with destiny.

An example: Not long ago Dr. E. M. Jellinek, of Yale University, came to us.

He said, "Yale, as you know, is sponsoring a program of public education on

alcoholism, entirely noncontroversial in character.

So, when the National Committee for Education on Alcoholism [now the National

Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence] was formed, an AA member was made

its executive director: Marty M., one of our oldest and finest. As a member of

AA, she is just as much interested in us as before - AA is still her

avocation. But as an officer of the Yale-sponsored National Committee, she is

also interested in educating the general public on alcoholism. Her AA training

has wonderfully fitted her for this post in a different field.

Public education on alcoholism is to be her vocation.

Could an AA do such a job? At first, Marty herself wondered. She asked her AA

friends, "Will I be regarded as a professional?" Her friends replied:

"Had you come to us, Marty, proposing to be a therapist, to sell straight AA

to alcoholics at so much a customer, we should certainly have branded that as

professionalism. So would everybody else.

"But the National Committee for Education on Alcoholism is quite another

matter. You will be taking your natural abilities and AA experience into a

very different field. We don't see how that can affect your amateur status

with us. Suppose you were to become a social worker, a personnel officer,

the manager of a state farm for alcoholics, or even a minister of the gospel?

Who could possibly say those activities would make you a professional AA? No

one, of course."

They went on: "Yet we do hope that AA as a whole will never deviate from its

sole purpose of helping other alcoholics. As an organization, we should

express no opinions save on the recovery of problem drinkers. That very sound

national policy has kept us out of much useless trouble already, and will

surely forestall untold complications in the future.

"Though AA as a whole," they continued, "should have one objective, we believe

just as strongly that for the individual there should be no limitations

whatever, except his own conscience. He should have the complete right to

choose his own opinions and outside activities. If these are good, AAs

everywhere will approve. Just so, Marty, do we think it will be in your case.

While Yale is your actual sponsor, we feel sure that you are going to have the

warm personal support of thousands of AAs wherever you go. We shall all be

thinking how much better a break this new generation of potential alcoholic

kids will have because of your work, how much it might have meant to us had

our own mothers and fathers really understood alcoholism."

Personally, I feel that Marty's friends have advised her wisely; that they

have clearly distinguished between the limited scope of AA as a whole and the

broad horizon.

__________

Excerpt from Marty Mann's New Primer on Alcoholism, 1981 (First Owl Book

Edition), pp. 83-86.

The Test

Even an extremely heavy drinker should have no trouble in passing it, whereas

an alcoholic, if able to complete it at all, could do so only under such heavy

pressure that his life would be more miserable than he thinks it would be if

he stopped drinking altogether. The chances are a hundred to one, how ever,

against a true alcoholic's being either willing or able to undertake the test.

The Test: Select any time at all for instituting it. Now is the best time. For

the next six months at least decide that you will stick to a certain number of

drinks a day, that number to be not less than one and not more than three. If

you are not a daily drinker, then the test should be the stated number of

drinks from one to three, on those days when you do drink. Some heavy drinkers

confine their drinking to weekends, but still worry about the amount they

consume then. Whatever number you choose must not be exceeded under any

circumstances whatever, and this includes weddings, births, funerals,

occasions of sudden death and disaster, unexpected or long-awaited

inheritance, promotion, or other happy events, reunions or meetings with old

friends or good customers, or just sheer boredom. There must also be no

special occasions on which you feel justified in adding to your quota of the

stated number of drinks, such as a severe emotional upset, or the appointment

to close the biggest deal of your career, or the audition you've been waiting

for all your life, or the meeting with someone who is crucial to your future

and of whom you are terrified. Absolutely no exceptions, or the test has been

failed.

This is not an easy test, but it has been passed handily by any number of

they were not compulsive drinkers. If by any chance they failed the test,

showing that they were alcoholics, they showed themselves, too, that they

were, whether they were then ready to admit it openly or not. At least it

prepared them for such an admission, and for the constructive action which

normally follows that admission.

It is important to add that observers of such tests should not use them to try

to force a flunkee to premature action. This may well backfire and produce a

stubborn determination on the part of the one who has been unable to pass the

test, to prove that it is not alcoholism that caused the failure. He can and

does do this in several ways: by stopping drinking altogether for a

self-specified time (when this is over he usually breaks out in even worse

form than before, and with an added resentment toward those who "drove" him to

it); by instituting a rigid control over his own drinking, which produces a

constant irritability that makes him impossible to be with, coupled with

periodic outbreaks of devastating nature; or by giving himself a very large

quota and insisting that he has remained within it, even when he has obviously

been too drunk to remember how many drinks he had. In extreme cases, he may

even give himself a quota of so many drinks, and take them straight from the

bottle, calling each bottle "the" drink. The backfiring from too great outside

pressure may also cause a complete collapse: knowing and admitting that he

cannot pass the test and is therefore an alcoholic, he will resist efforts to

force him to take action by saying in effect, "So I'm an alcoholic, so I can't

control my drinking, so I'll drink as I must," and go all out for perdition.

This last, despite the expressed concern of some people (who believe that

admitting alcoholism to be a disease, and alcoholic drinking to be

uncontrollable drinking, is simply to give alcoholics a good excuse to

continue), very rarely happens. Nevertheless the possibility must be taken

into account by those who are trying to help an alcoholic to recognize his

trouble and take constructive action on it. If he is left alone after failing

such a self-taken test, the failure will begin to work on him-it has planted a

seed of knowledge which may well grow into action.

The "occasional drunk" usually comes from the ranks of heavy drinkers,

sometimes social drinkers. Rarely is he an abstainer between his bouts, as is

generally the case with periodic alcoholics. Sometimes called "spree

drinkers," these are the ones who every now and then deliberately indulge in

short periods of drinking to drunkenness, usually at sporadic intervals. They

talk of the "good" it does them to have a "purge" once in a while, or to "let

down their hair" or to "kick over the traces" and have "all-out fun."

Unfortunately for them they sometimes get into trouble during these sprees,

and their drinking habits are thus brought to public attention. But they can

and do stop such indulgences if they find it is costing them too much, for

their sprees are their idea of fun, and not a necessity. "Occasional drunks"

are most often found among youthful drinkers, whose ideas of "fun," for one

reason or another, have come to center around drinking and the uninhibited

behavior which excessive drinking allows.

__________

The following was excerpted from a biography-in-progress of Marty Mann, by

Sally and David Brown. It has since been published by Hazelden:

Marty Mann is scarcely a household word today, yet she is arguably one of the

most influential people of the 20th century. Marty's life was like a blazing

fire, but was nearly extinguished by personal tragedy and degradation. She

rose to a triumphant recovery that powered a historic, unparalleled change in

our society. Through her vision and leadership, the attitude of America toward

alcoholism was changed from a moral issue to one of public health. This was a

tremendous shift, especially considering America's long temperance history

which culminated in the Prohibition Amendment of 1920.

Marty was able to accomplish these things despite numerous, very difficult

setbacks along the way, any one of which might have overcome a lesser person.

She would be the first to claim that her sobriety, found through Alcoholics

Anonymous (AA) in its very earliest days, was the most important factor in her

success. ...

Marty was born into a life of wealth and privilege in Chicago in the early

1900s. Her family sent her to the best private schools. She was blessed with

beauty, brains, a powerful will and drive, phenomenal energy and stunning

charisma. She traveled extensively. She debuted, then married into a wealthy

New Orleans family. Her future seemed ordained to continue on the same

patrician track except for one serious setback on the way. When Marty was 14,

she was diagnosed with Tuberculosis (TB). In those days, drugs for treatment

were not yet available. However, her family could afford to send her to an

expensive private sanitarium in California for a year, and then provide her

with a private-duty nurse at home for another year or two. She had one

recurrence of the disease several years later, and for the rest of her long

life she knew that she was always in remission from this ancient scourge.

Marty was no sooner past this hurdle when another disease began to assert

itself. When Marty was 17 she could drink as an adult. Moving at a fast pace

in an elite social group, she had a "hollow leg." A party girl from the onset,

she could outdrink anyone and be the only person left standing to get

everybody else home. Later, she was to learn that her unusual capacity was an

important early sign of alcoholism.

Suddenly her father lost all his wealth, and she had to go to work. Untrained

for any specific career, she was nevertheless favored with important moneyed

and social connections in this country and abroad. Her natural talents led her

into the world of public relations.

Marty's drinking was an occupational hazard in her line of work. Within 10

years she went from a bright, assured future to a hideous existence of

round-the-clock drinking. She lost one job after another. She became

destitute, living off the goodwill of friends, convinced that she was

hopelessly insane. Two suicide attempts nearly killed her, and desperate

drinking threatened to finish the job.

At this point, friends intervened. She was accepted as a charity patient at

Bellevue Hospital in New York City, then transferred to Blythewood, an

exclusive private psychiatric inpatient center in Connecticut as a charity

patient. There were a few patients who were alcoholics, like Marty, whose

behavior had become bizarre or unmanageable.

It is difficult these days to imagine a world where the term "alcoholism" was

virtually unknown and there was no treatment except "drying out." Alcoholics

Anonymous didn't exist. The medical profession was as much in the dark as the

alcoholics and their baffled families. The concept of alcoholism as a disease

-- and a major, treatable one at that -- was scarcely known.

Then in 1935, two alcoholics, Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith, happened to come

together to help each other stay sober. Alcoholics Anonymous, probably the

most famous grassroots, self-help health movement of all time, was launched on

its shaky way.

Within four years, Bill and Dr. Bob and a handful of other pioneers had

attracted two small groups of men who managed to achieve sobriety; one in

Akron, Ohio (Dr. Bob's home), and the other in New York City (Bill W's home).

They decided to write down their experiences in the belief and hope that they

could thereby broaden their outreach to other suffering alcoholics. The book

"Alcoholics Anonymous" was born, and at the heart of it was the famous "12

Steps," which have been adopted and adapted by literally hundreds of other

kinds of self-help groups. The year was 1939.

The year of 1939 was also a fateful year for Marty. She had been a patient at

Blythewood for months, still unable to remain completely sober. Her

enlightened psychiatrist, Dr. Harry Tiebout, gave her a manuscript of

"Alcoholics Anonymous" to read, convinced that it would help her in a way he

could not. This opened the door to her recovery.

Eventually she was persuaded by Dr. Tiebout to attend her first AA meeting,

held in the home of Bill Wilson and his wife, Lois. This was still during the

time that there were only two AA meetings in the whole country. Each little

group met just once a week. Many members literally drove over a hundred miles

each way to attend the fellowship. Contrast that scene with the thousands and

thousands of AA meetings available across America today, the majority a short

distance from home.

Furthermore, all of the AA members were men. A few women had drifted in and

out, but the stigma against women alcoholics was as strong as ever. Women

rarely had the courage to seek help, even if they acknowledged they might have

a problem.

Marty loved and appreciated AA from the beginning. She was immensely relieved

to learn she was not incurably insane, but instead had a disease which

manifested itself as "an allergy of the body coupled with an obsession of the

mind." Scientific research describes this condition as a biochemical

abnormality affecting the body and the brain in ways which increasingly limit

the predisposed person's ability to function or to stop, despite dire

consequences.

Marty had three relapses during her first 18 months in AA. Slips, or relapses,

while distressing and sometimes tragically fatal, are not uncommon with many

of those who come into AA. Later, Marty settled down, and the real healing

began as she started to apply the 12 Steps to her life.

Five years after she found AA, Marty had a dream. Her vision was to educate

the whole country about alcoholism. She was obsessed with eliminating the

historic stigma attached to chronic inebriation. She joined forces with the

Yale School of Alcohol Studies (now at Rutgers), where early significant

scientific research into alcoholism was underway. Eventually her nationwide

educational efforts led to the creation of a separate organization, the

National Council on Alcoholism (now the National Council on Alcoholism and

Drug Dependence or NCADD). NCADD has been this country's most important

educational, referral resource for alcoholics, their families and communities

all across the country.

Marty was the right person at the right place and time. She was extremely

fortunate to find a wealthy donor, Brinkley Smithers, who was committed to her

goals and generously supported her organization. Marty was intensely focused

on her mission. More than one person said she was like a train coming down the

track -- jump on or get out of the way. Her elegant appearance, captivating

charm, intellect and breathtaking charisma swept people off their feet.

By all accounts, she was one of the most spellbinding speakers this land has

ever seen. Even audiences initially skeptical of her message, that an

alcoholic is a sick person who can be helped, ended up enthusiastically

supporting her. For most of her 24 years as director of NCA, she maintained a

speaking schedule of over 200 talks annually. The purpose of Marty's talks was

to establish local volunteer groups in every major city. These affiliates of

NCA would carry out NCA's mission to provide education, information and

referral for their respective communities. Government financial support was

minimal to nonexistent. Most of the funding for the affiliates came from

local, private donations.

By now, one would think Marty had it all. Restored health, sobriety, the

realization of her dream. Then, once more, she was felled by a disease beyond

her control -- this time it was cancer. Several surgeries were required, and

eventually she recovered from the cancer. Doctors were amazed by her medical

history: recovery from three major diseases, recurrences of severe chronic

depression, plus the physical consequences of her early suicide attempts.

When she was 65, Marty retired with some reluctance from active management of

NCA. It was not easy for her to relinquish control of her creation and the

central focus of her passion for over two decades. As NCA's promoter without

peer, she continued a punishing speaking schedule on the organization's behalf

for many years, but gave up her personal involvement in day-to-day affairs.

In the early 1950s, Edward R. Murrow, distinguished journalist, selected Marty

as one of the 10 greatest living Americans. During her lifetime, Marty was

extremely well-known in the local, regional and national press. Her

appearances before state legislatures and Congress were unforgettable for

those present and produced results. She was made an honorary member of

prestigious professional groups here and abroad.

Marty's last talk was before AA's international convention in New Orleans in

1980. Two weeks later she suffered a stroke at home and died very shortly

thereafter. She was 75.

The organization and history of NCA after Marty has been mixed. There were

some rocky periods, which are to be expected following the retirement and

demise of a long-term, extremely dynamic and charismatic leader. The

affiliates across the country also experienced some ups and downs. However,

the organization persisted, stabilized and continues to be an effective public

voice on behalf of alcoholics.

Marty's legacy is sparingly reported in the histories of Alcoholics Anonymous,

probably because NCA was not an arm of AA. However, AA grew enormously in the

decades that Marty was active. Wherever she spoke, she generated extensive

publicity, and new AA members appeared in droves. Her appearances were

especially important in attracting women alcoholics. They figured that if a

person as impressive and inspiring as Marty could admit that she was an

alcoholic, they could too. Women like Betty Ford are direct inheritors of

Marty's example.

_____________

The following is from the 1980 Nov-Dec. Issue of ALCOHOLISM, "Pioneer,

Persuader, Inexhaustible Advocate, Marty Mann."

Included in the article is a tribute by Susan B. Anthony:

(Dr. Susan B. Anthony, author, lecturer, theologian, and counselor, is another

long-time friend and colleague of Marty's. The great niece and namesake of the

famous suffrage leader, she is currently lecturing on women and alcoholism,

and has authored seven books and many articles.)

Putting on paper my tributes to Marty helps alleviate the frustration I felt

when I could not get up north for her Memorial Services to share with old

friends of hers and mine.

What I did do when NCA called me to let me know of her death was to put my

emotion into prayer, for her and for us. Prayer was a gift that came some

years after sobering up in Marty's office on August 22, 1946.

I last spoke with Marty just a few weeks before her death, on July 3 when I

was visiting my sister. When I called her, she said in her rich, resonant

voice, "You just caught me. I am going out the door for the New Orleans AA

convention!"

She sounded buoyant and happy, her voice as young as the day I first met her

34 years ago. When I told her I had been one of the 500 nominated as public

members for the National Commission on Alcoholism and other Alcohol Related

Problems, she laughed "It's not 500, my dear, it's 700 or 800 nominees."

In July it seemed so natural that she was taking off for a talk. Just three

weeks before her death (even as my own great-aunt Susan B.) she was setting

forth for one last stint on the road. As her obituary in THE NEW YORK TIMES

said on July 24, Marty had averaged 200 lectures, all out of town, of course.

I was part of one of those flights, in 1977, en route to Des Moines, Iowa, to

keynote a conference commemorating the Council she and local friends had

started there. I had just spoken at another NCA conference celebrating her

birthday in Pennsylvania, flown home to Florida and was now flying to Des

Moines, getting off to be greeted by the program chairman when I saw Marty

ahead of me.

"Were you on that plane?" she asked. "I was in first class," she said

apologetically. "I sometimes splurge on that -- I get so tired."

She looked frail and I recalled the millions of miles she had journeyed for

alcoholism education, for alcoholics, miles that were marked by broken hips,

and illnesses. And that she felt she must apologize for the greater comfort of

first class, though she had passed three score years and ten!

When I couldn't get to her Memorial Service I wrote her family:

"My gratitude to Marty since sobering up in her office in 1946 surpasses even

my sympathy for you since we and the world know her work for alcoholics is

deathless."

I often wonder whether I would be alive and sober today if Marty had not

provided a quiet, private office uptown (at the old Academy of Medicine

Building, New York City) where a prima donna radio commentator, a woman at

that, could seek help for alcoholism. I was not ready at that point for the

old clubhouse downtown. Though Marty was not in the office that day of August

22, 1947, her aura dominated the pleasant serene office, and her volunteer AA

secretary carried the message to me, as Marty later did by her being as well