Page 24 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

BILL’S STORY 3
cial reference service. Our friends thought a lunacy
commission should be appointed. Perhaps they were
right. I had had some success at speculation, so we
had a little money, but we once worked on a farm for
a month to avoid drawing on our small capital. That
was the last honest manual labor on my part for many
a day. We covered the whole eastern United States in
a year. At the end of it, my reports to Wall Street
procured me a position there and the use of a large ex-
pense account. The exercise of an option brought in
more money, leaving us with a profit of several thou-
sand dollars for that year.
For the next few years fortune threw money and ap-
plause my way. I had arrived. My judgment and
ideas were followed by many to the tune of paper mil-
lions. The great boom of the late twenties was seeth-
ing and swelling. Drink was taking an important and
exhilarating part in my life. There was loud talk in
the jazz places uptown. Everyone spent in thousands
and chattered in millions. Scoffers could scoff and be
damned. I made a host of fair-weather friends.
My drinking assumed more serious proportions, con-
tinuing all day and almost every night. The remon-
strances of my friends terminated in a row and I
became a lone wolf. There were many unhappy scenes
in our sumptuous apartment. There had been no real
infidelity, for loyalty to my wife, helped at times by
extreme drunkenness, kept me out of those scrapes.
In 1929 I contracted golf fever. We went at once
to the country, my wife to applaud while I started out
to overtake Walter Hagen. Liquor caught up with me
much faster than I came up behind Walter. I began
to be jittery in the morning. Golf permitted drinking