I know a couple, myself.

Seventy-five years ago today, a proctologist in Akron, Ohio, took his last drink of booze.  As a result of his having gotten sober with the help of another drunk, a businessman from New York, Alcoholics Anonymous was born.  More here.

It would be interesting to know how many people owe their lives and the sanity of family members to that happy coincidence, via the rooms of AA and its sister orgrnization Alanon.  We will, of course, never know.  We can surmise that the figure in in the millions, but there is no real way to tell.

There’s a bunch, though.  I know a few myself.  Happy Birthday, AA.

And thanks, from the bottom of my heart.

This entry was posted in addiction, alcoholism, recovery and tagged by Bill. Bookmark the permalink.

About Bill

Birder, cat-lover, pilot, poet. Former lounge lizard, pauper, pagan, lifeguard, chauffeur,cop and martial artist, turned pacifist addiction writer. Tries to be a good husband, father and brother, and makes a decent friend. Likes to take pictures. Stumbling down the Middle Path, one day at a time.

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