In 1941, Dr, Miles N, from Kansas City, Kansas, was in trouble. He had been drinking uncontrollably for over 2 years, was in jail psychiatric unit, and the judge was considering sending him to the state mental hospital.
The doctor’s wife brought him the Jack Alexander article, “Alcoholics Anonymous“, from the March issue of the Saturday Evening Post. The article told him 2,000 people had recovered from alcoholism through A.A., and that drunk saving is life saving for the alcoholic.
Dr, N. was “struck sober”, He was able to convince the judge to let him return home to help other drunks. He immediately started trolling skid row for prospects. Within a year, he opened a hospital for alcoholics in Kansas City. Over the next decades, Dr. N. sobered up 100’s or 1,000’s of people in the hospital or in the basement of his home. His influence, as “one of A.A.’s first doctor-members” was so great, that Bill Wilson described him as “a prodigious AA. worker and a national authority on the chemistry of drunks” on page 95 of the book Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age.
Dr. N. often vacationed in Santa Fe at La Posada de Santa Fe. which was owned by his brother and sister-in-law. One of his visits was Easter week, April 1946. But even on vacation Dr. N. couldn’t get away from the suffering alcoholic. His nephew, Bob, was a lawyer who had recently opened his office in the Laughlin Building, 102 W. San Francisco, just above where Starbucks now sits. He and his partner were very concerned about the man in the office across the hall in #28. The man had been drunk for months. Bob told his uncle about the problem.
The problem was Art S., a well-connected but very drunk accountant, who was living in his office. His wife had kicked him out, and he could afford nowhere else to live. Heading back to his office on New Year’s Eve, he was resolved to quit drinking. He had a bottle of buttermilk hand. He also had a half pint of gin in his pocket. He had forgotten about the street excavation near his office and stepped into an 18″ hole at the comer of Don Gaspar and W San Francisco streets, injuring his left foot. He also broke the bottle of buttermilk, cutting his chin, cheek and hands. Two teenagers helped him up the long, steep flight of stairs to his office, where Art found the gin had survived the accident. Thus ended his New Year’s resolution.
A few days later, Art got Dr. Herman Renkoff, who had an office on the same floor, to patch up his cuts. But Dr. Renkoff was unable to convince Art to do something about his foot. Art was certain it was just sprained. And it was the office’s busiest time of the year. For weeks, he remained in his office alone. His accounting assistant kept him supplied with and liquor. The usual quota was 3 pints of gin per day washed down with 12 bottles of beer plus Seconal to sleep and Dexedrine to wake up. The bellboy from the hotel down the street came by to clean up the trash. Occasionally Art sent down for chop suey from the Chinese restaurant across the street. Finally, Dr. Renkoff convinced Art to go to St. Vincent’s Hospital to get his foot fixed.
But Art would agree to go only after the good sisters could guarantee him a private room. He had no intention of sharing his liquor with a ward full of other men.
Surgery was required to pin his broken heel bone back together. He was put in a cast from his toes to his hip. He had brought a couple of dozen Seconals and a couple of dozen Dexedrine’s with him when he entered the hospital. To his surprise, they disappeared his first night in the hospital. But his friends continued to care for him. At first his assistant would bring in a briefcase with Art’s daily accountant work. After all, taxes had to be done. Naturally, the pills and gin were also in the briefcase. The assistant was caught and banned from visiting. Another friend, the postmaster, took up delivery duties. He was caught, and so sent his brother-in-law, who also worked at the post office. He got caught. Finally, the doctors and sisters had had enough. They told Art they could do no more for him at the hospital than could been done at home and they shipped him back to his office, cast and all.
Weeks went by with the same supply arrangements as before surgery. The only bathroom available was down the hall, impossible to navigate drunk in a cast and on crutches. The only sanitary facilities were his wastebasket. Things got pretty rank. The lawyers across the hall considered calling the health department. Instead, Bob talked to his uncle, Dr. N.
Art responded to a knock on his door. Dr. N. walked in and said, “you’re having a little problem with alcohol?” Then he told Art his own story and offered to take back to his apartment at La Posada to get sober. At first Art still didn’t trust this stranger. So, he checked him out with the attorneys across the hall, who urged him to take the doctor’s advice. He agreed and was carried down the same long flight of stairs and off to La Posada. Dr N. detoxed him with same recipe he used in Kansas City: 2 ounces of whiskey in 4 ounces of water every 3 hours for 5 doses; followed by the same every 6 hours for 3 doses; alternated with 1 teaspoon of salt in a glass of water every 3 hours between the diluted glasses of whiskey. It worked.
In the meantime, Dr. N. had somehow convinced Lenna, Art’s ex-wife, to let Art move back in with her. Even though divorce had been final since January, she let Art move into the front of the apartment. 5 or 6 months later, they were remarried. In 1948, Lenna joined AA.
Before Dr. N. went home to Kansas City a few days after Easter, he told Art, “You are sober now. You will never another drink the rest of your life. If you want to stay sober, you must get into A.A. and work at it, and I really mean work at it. Dr. N became Art’s first sponsor.
Nephew Bob suggested Art get a copy of the Big Book. Art promptly wrote to New York, asking for one to be sent C.O.D. About a week or so later, he was paid a visit from Bill B, Sr. Bill had also been in touch with New York, inquiring how he, his son, Bill Jr. and a waitress from La Fonda could start a meeting in Santa Fe. Somehow word about Art had gotten to Bill. So, the Santa Fe Group of Alcoholics Anonymous, now known as the Downtown Group, started with these four in the spring of 1946.
The Santa Fe Group grew rapidly from its first 4 members in 1946 to an average of 30 attending open meetings. Early on, they met at Jack, ‘the radioman’s place. However, Jack soon fell behind in rent, and the Group had to move to the basement of the public library. In August 1947, at an open meeting in the library basement, 117 alcoholics were present. Next, they tried the Diggle Photo Shop on College St (now Old Santa Fe Trail) at perhaps No. 415. Dissatisfied with these arrangements, they moved in 1948 or 1949 to a 5-room residence on East DeVargas, between College and what is now Paseo de Peralta. They called it their clubhouse.
The next move was in 1952 to much larger quarters the Ruth Laughlin Alexander house at 116 East DeVargas. They shared that building with the New Mexico Commission on Alcoholism, leading to some controversy in the community regarding the Traditions So they moved again to Montezuma just west of Cerrillos in 1958 or 199. Even without the Traditions controversy, the Group would have had move again anyway, because the Alexander house was torn down in 1963 to make way for new state office buildings and parking lots.
By the mid-60’s, the Group met at the American Association of University Women on Johnson Street. In the early ’80’s, they were meeting at the Church of Holy Faith. From there, the Group moved to the First Presbyterian Church, then St. Bede’s, then the Santuario de Guadalupe School, and finally to the Westminster Presbyterian Church where it presently meets.
As soon as it formed, the Group became very active in twelve-step work. Numerous drunks were detoxed, using the Dr. N.’s method, at the various clubhouses. While using the Alexander house, the Group had 4 beds available for in-house detoxification. The Group helped other groups in Las Vegas, Raton and Taos. Already in 1946, at Group expense and at a financial loss. they published a Spanish translation of a booklet from the AAs in Salt Lake City, “Who, me?” A member, Antonio J. M., the Editor of the Spanish edition of the local newspaper, the Santa Fe New Mexican, was the translator. The booklet went on to be distributed in the thousands at 10 cents a copy, mainly to Los Angeles and Southern California It also got to Central and South America, where, incidentally, it received some criticism for the use of colloquial New Mexican Spanish. Art tried to spread the word to Spanish speakers and had an extensive correspondence with Joe A. of Mexico and Los Angeles. It was mainly through his connection with Joe that the translation of “Who, me?” spread throughout Southern California. Joe, hosted by the Santa Fe Group, visited Santa Fe and other parts of New Mexico to share with English and Spanish speaking A.A,’s and help raise interest in establishing Spanish-speaking groups.
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