The Life of Bill Wilson
By the time you read this article, a manuscript copy of the “Big Book” of AA will have been sold at public auction through Sotheby’s of New York. It is expected to fetch between $300,000 and $500,000. Few alcoholics reading one of the manuscripts circulating back in 1938 could have imagined such a thing. Back then they were too busy editing Bill Wilson’s flowery first drafts and hurriedly writing their comments in the margins. The book was due for publication and the book’s investors along with Bill were anxious to finish it.
Bill Wilson dreamed of wealth and glory from the time he was a boy. Now just three years sober, he saw his simple program to treat alcoholism taking root in the lives of others and he was ready to cash in on it. Wilson had visions of specialized hospitals for alcoholic spread throughout the land and staffed by paid missionaries. He, of course, would oversee them all! He also thought that a book outlining the program might prove helpful for those without benefit of contact with the too slow growing band of recovering men. His hopes were dashed, and the program was probably saved, when some balking was heard from John D. Rockefeller Jr., to whom Wilson had made an impassioned plea for financial help. The tycoon was deeply impressed by Wilson’s new program, seeing it as “First Century Christianity in action.” However, the financier was quick to note that just as wealth and power had dulled the edge and vitality of Christ’s message, he was “afraid that money will spoil this thing (too).” God looks after drunks and little children, there often being little difference between the two, and Rockefeller’s wisdom proved providential in countering Wilson’s spiritual immaturity.
Diverted from building hospitals, Wilson now poured all of his entrepreneurial energies into the creation of a new book. In addition to spreading the gospel of recovery, he saw it as an opportunity to make a personal fortune. Stock was sold under the name of Works Publishing. Old-timers say the name was chosen because of the much-loved line from the New Testament’s Book of James that reads, “faith without works is dead.” Others said that it was because this was only “the first of many works” envisioned by its backers. Still a third reason given was that while other programs had failed to help alcoholics, “this works.”
As the author, Bill’s share was originally earmarked at a third. His partner in the enterprise was Hank Parkhurst, a fellow alcoholic whose drinking had cost him a vice-presidency with Standard Oil. Out of Hank’s office in Newark, New Jersey, Wilson dictated to Hank’s secretary Ruth Hock while he paced the floor and chain-smoked his cigarettes. Manuscript copies were sent out to recovering members both in Akron and New York. The Akron group, heavily influenced by Dr. Bob, was by and large more spiritual in approaching the program than were their New York counterparts, and they wanted the book to reflect that. The New Yorkers generally balked at this and so emerged compromises like the addition of the phrase “God as you understand Him” and surrendering “on your knees” was struck down as too religious for the temperament of east coast alcoholics.
Wilson wrote most of the copy. When it came to the chapter eight “To Wives,” he asked Dr. Bob’s wife to do the honors. When she declined, Bill’s wife expected to be asked, but she never was. Wilson wrote the chapter himself and Lois Wilson nursed a long standing resentment over this intended slight. When Wilson coined the phrase, “we are not saints,” Lois could well attest to that truth.
Chapter Five gave birth to the Twelve Steps as we know them today. Until then, the alcoholic members of the Oxford Group had used six principles that outlined their actions but Wilson wanted these expanded. He said he “wanted to eliminate any loopholes” for alcoholics as they seemed prone to seek these out and exploit them to their own demise. He wrote later that he lay on his bed and prayed for guidance as the Oxford Group had taught him to do. “Finally, I started to write. … With a speed that was astonishing, considering my jangled emotions, I completed the first draft. It took perhaps half an hour. The words kept right on coming. When I reached a stopping point, I numbered the new steps. They added up to twelve. Somehow this number seemed significant. Without any special rhyme or reason, I connected them with the twelve apostles.”
Finding a name for the book was a challenge. Bill’s original motion that it be called,“The William Wilson Movement” probably died for lack of a second. Other titles were “The Way Out” and “100 Men.” It’s interesting to note that while “100 Men” gained legendary status in the fellowship as the number of men who originally found sobriety and who helped author the new book, the truth seems to be that, at the time, there were only 40 or so men who were sober. But Bill thought 100 sounded better than 40 and that if they counted their wives and a few others they could raise themselves to the better sounding number. (Our history of being master manipulators with a propensity to stretch the truth certainly has very deep roots!)
The final title of Alcoholics Anonymous (written with and without an apostrophe “s”) emerged the winner. It seems to have originated from a writer named Joe W. who often wrote for the New Yorker Magazine and had sporadic periods of recovery. The original dust cover was a bright red and yellow that some called the ‘circus edition.” It was later changed to a more subdued dark blue and white. The paper used to print the first edition was unusually thick and hence was referred by some of the members as “the big book.” The name stuck and so did the program it introduced to the world.