Happy Birthday to NA – 57 years old and counting!
The first meeting of Narcotics Anonymous was held 57 years ago on Monday October 5, 1953 in Sun Valley, CA at the Dad’s Club on the corner of Cantara Avenue and Clybourn Street.
Frank C. Chaired
17 people attended
$10.81 was collected
$0.91 was spent on coffee
Flyer for the 1st NA Meeting
http://magshare.org/narchive/NArchive/1953/Los_Angeles_CA/Flyer_Made_for_First_Meeting.pdfNotice "Our Purpose" on the 1st meeting Flyer Jimmy got that from the Oct 5th 1952 ‘Key Newsletter’ they printed off inside Lexington Federal Prison in Lexington Kentucky at the Narcotics Farm print shop ,last page Our Purpose
http://magshare.org/narchive/NArchive/1952/TheKey_Oct_05_1952.pdf Sign In Sheet from that 1st Meeting JK signed in Last
http://mwbr.net/narchive/founding/Founding53_7.pdfWhile there were multiple attempts at starting 12-step meetings for addicts prior to this, including a group called Narcotics Anonymous in New York as early as late 1948 the effort in 1953 eventually resulted in the Fellowship that exists today.
It’s rumored that the first format was an "Architects of Adversity" meeting, or 5th and 10th step meeting. They held weekly meetings in that location for about a year.Ironically though, while they started as a service committee in a sense, by the end of 1953, everybody who had been elected in this committee had resigned, including Jimmy Kinnon. They all had their different feelings but the meeting continued Until February 1954 at that location then moved. From 1954 to 1959 there was basically one regular meeting and rabbit meetings. The one regular meeting took place at a Doctor Shrier’s detox center. They nicknamed it "Shrier’s Dryer" where people could go and dry out.
Here are Jimmy’s words describing the first meetings:
"It was very hard to find a place to meet; after we got together and agreed what we were going to do. You couldn’t find a hall to meet in. Nobody would allow us in. They didn’t trust us in any way, shape, or form. And it’s pretty sad when you go from one place to another after you’ve got something real good going and nobody will let you use their hall. You know! Eventually we did find a Salvation Army hall and they allowed us to use it for five dollars a month. You know, that’s pretty good, but there were no facilities there. There was one little restroom with a hand basin and a bowl in there, and that was it. There was no kitchen, so we had to go out and buy a little electric stove and some coffee pots, some cups – which I still have at home. I found them just this week; I’ve had them all these years. We used to give them to each other because this week you might meet at my place and next week we might meet at your place. So you took the cups with you so everybody would have a cup to get their coffee in. You know, not many of us had more than a couple of cups in our houses then; in tact, not many of us were working. But that’s the way it was. I still have those things."
"I got news for you, the Sunland Lumber Company is now defunct, but we’re still living. The Salvation Army hall is still there – Today it’s a Spanish church. Some of the other meetings we had We called them "Rabbit Meetings" then because we never knew where we were going to meet. If there were 5 or 6 of us at a meeting tonight we decided then whose apartment or whose house we’d have the meeting in next week. And you would take the cups and sugar bowls and the format with you, you know, and then we’d meet at your place next week.
It wasn’t that we who were getting into the program then were so afraid of the law but the newcomers were scared to death. I made a sign and we put it outside of the front door of the church there (about twice the size of this – three times the size of that) that said NA Meeting tonight at 8:30. And then we opened the door for business and we’d get about a dozen alcoholics in there who came to help us. And then a car would pull down around the comer slowly and they’d look at the sign and then they’d split. Nobody trusted nobody – you know they thought it was staked out. They wouldn’t believe us when we told them there was no surveillance. And we weren’t just too sure in the beginning ourselves."
As Jimmy described, the first meetings were not attended by many newcomers, as they were afraid of being arrested. At that time, there were laws in effect that would criminalize addicts merely by association. The Rockefeller Laws, as they were called, made it illegal for two or more addicts to be in one place at any time. The founders’ solution was to go have a face to face discussion with the police department, and here, in Jimmy’s words, is what happened:
"Because as a group we decided we were going to get right with the law at least and we went down to the Narcotics Division. And we told them, we didn’t ask them, we told them we were going to have a meeting of addicts. And they raised their eyebrows a little bit when we first mentioned it. But there were 5 of us down there. A Miller, I forget if he was a Lieutenant or a Captain then, he listened and he said: "It’s about time something like this happened, I’ve been trying to help addicts for years and with no success; I can’t help anybody". And so he called in a lieutenant to listen in on our conversation and see what he thought. And he was a hard-nosed, old style, hope-to-die cop who knew for sure (who knew for sure) that none of us could recover, you know. And he listened and Miller was saying: "I like that idea", "I’ll go along with that idea", "I buy what you have to say", "I’ll do everything I can to help you". All the way down the line he was all for us. He kept his word, by the way. And he said to this lieutenant "what do you think?" (lieutenant): "Ain’t gonna work, once a Junkie always a Junkie, you know that, God Damnit. There’s never any of them gonna get any better. I don’t care what you say, I don’t care what these people say, it ain’t gonna work." So he looked back at us and I didn’t know what the Hell to say, you know I’m only one of the group. I looked at Doris and she didn’t know what to say. And Frank didn’t know what to say. And old Pat, who was sitting back there with his mouth shut all this time and never opened his mouth says: "Lieutenant, my name is so-and-so, I was born and raised in such-and-such a place, I got arrested the first time for such-and-such a thing, and I was sentenced such-and -such a time for so many years; and starting there I want you to go back and check my record all the way through. I’ve been in every God Damned Federal Pen., except Danamora, in the country. I’m the last of the Petermen, and I haven’t had a bit of Junk for 18 years. I haven’t been in Jail for 18 years; and this program works for me. Now you look it up and prove it to yourself because I was never out of jail from the time I was a kid until the time I found this program." And the guy didn’t know what to say. Pat said: "Now I mean it, check it out."
"Whether the guy ever checked it out, I don’t know; but I know that the police department and the Narcotics Division kept their word and they never staked us out , they never busted us in any way, shape, or form – never rousted us coming or going to meetings. And so, we in turn kept our word, we policed ourselves and we followed the Traditions as best we knew how."
