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October 2010

About six months after coming into AA, I was feeling great. Then, for some reason, I became restless and discontent, and fell off the early sobriety pink cloud—with a loud thump. We were living in Syracuse, N.Y. at the time, and my sponsor Ed suggested I try a few different meetings, and once again stressed the importance of getting involved with AA service. That’s when I stumbled into the pancake breakfast meeting one Saturday morning, and my journey to happy sobriety really started.

“Can you cook? Our regular is a no show,” asked a very large man holding an 18-inch spatula near my face. Sensing that “no” was not the correct answer, I chirped “yes” and followed him to the kitchen. “We normally have about 50 for breakfast, but this is chip day, so there may be more,” he said, as he pointed to the big box of pancake mix and a huge stack of sausage patties.

Fortunately, I was early and had a few minutes to get the batter going and the stove temperature to the point where my first efforts at least looked edible. Regulars soon started to arrive faster than I could crank out the food. I got some much-needed assistance when a couple of other eager newcomers jumped in to help. We soon had a semi-functioning system up and running and the grumbling for more pancakes slowed down.

After the breakfast hour, there was a great meeting, then a huge surprise. Lee E., the group’s chair, made a few announcements and finished with “and I’d like to thank Norm and the kitchen crew for a nice breakfast.” There was lively applause, and a few said, “Good job, Norm.” I could have won the lottery, and not felt better than at that moment! I was only six months into recovery, and this neat group of people was actually thanking me for doing something that had been fun and rewarding!

After the meeting, during kitchen cleanup (the stove and spatula sparkled as never before), Lee asked if I could help the following Saturday. Wow! I could not wait till next week. I was there at 6:30, a half hour before she arrived to open. That started a commitment of more than a year as cook/coffeemaker, which gave me a firsthand taste of the benefits of service. It was a 10-fold return on any effort expended, just as my sponsor, Ed, had promised.

My second Saturday was even better. I’d done some homework with a few cookbooks, and my pancakes were soon golden brown, uniformly sized, and the sausages “just right” by the time members started arriving. Another thank you from Lee, a couple more “way to go’s” at meeting’s end—a team of wild horses could not have kept me from that cooking job! Within a month or so I had that kitchen humming by 7:30 A.M. In my mind I had become one of the great pancake makers of the century. I freely shared that information at other meetings all over Syracuse. And then … black Saturday.

It all started when I took a two-minute break from my post as head cook to refill my coffee. Returning to the kitchen, I was shocked—Dirk had taken over my spot! He was using my spatula to turn pancakes on my stove, and had moved the pancake batter. Silently furious, I deferred to his seniority (he had over a year in AA at the time), and I took the demeaning position of juice pourer, mentally recording every mistake he made. When Lee thanked us that morning, I was very embarrassed, as many of Dirk’s pancakes were the wrong size, and several of his sausage patties were burned. I sensed my reputation going up in flames.

An urgent meeting with Ed was called for. I vented my anger over Dirk’s pushy ways as Ed looked at me with bemused patience. He told me not to take myself so seriously, let it go, and keep on with my duties at the pancake meeting. It would all work out. He repeated that I always tried to play the big shot, and reminded me that I had a tendency to pole vault over fly droppings. “Your childish ego is getting the best of you—again,” were his parting words that morning. Now I had two resentments—Dirk and Ed.

I was able to solve the problem the following Saturday, and thereafter. As soon as I arrived at 6:30 A.M., the spatula never left my hand during the breakfast hour. I also had a new guy I was sponsoring bring my coffee refills to the stove, so no one could intrude on my command post. I don’t think I bothered to tell Ed about my creative solution. Ego aside, it was an important time in my recovery. Arriving early, I got to know some of the group members well, and made some friendships that continue to this day. The commitment and responsibility needed to do that job carried over into other parts of my life, and I became a better husband, father and employee. If I could keep the stove and spatula clean, maybe I could help my wife around our kitchen. If I could bite my tongue at Dirk’s intrusion, perhaps I could be more patient with my kids. And if I could listen to Ed, maybe I could lighten up on myself and those around me.

After about a year as pancake king, my son started playing in a youth hockey league, and I volunteered to help with team practices. Our ice time at the rink was Saturday from 7 to 8 A.M., so I reluctantly gave up my important position at the meeting. To my surprise, I found myself as responsible around the practice rink as I had become at the pancake meeting. A few of the good habits developed as cook/coffeemaker found their way to my role as a father. A nice surprise.

After the four-month hockey season ended, I returned to the pancake meeting. I was fearful that it may have closed down, since I had not been there to run the place. Surprise … it was bigger than ever! And during the thank you’s at meeting’s end, it was never once mentioned that a former celebrity cook was in the room! Hard to believe. But by this time my ego had been downsized just a little, and both Ed and I got a chuckle out of Lee’s oversight.

Many other service opportunities have popped up over the years, always a return far in excess of effort expended. A while ago, my wife Lesley and I went to a meeting we hadn't attended in a while. We learned that the coffeemaker had not shown up the preceding week, attendance was dropping, and the meeting was in danger of closing. She volunteered us to take over the coffee duties, and within a short time, the meeting was back on its feet. No applause this time, but it was a great feeling to see energy come back into the room and enthusiasm return. Once again, an outsized reward, which I now believe to be the norm for AA service opportunities.

We moved to North Carolina three years ago, but I often smile when I think of my first service opportunity at the pancake meeting. I have also been fortunate to locate many other chances to help in the program over the years, such as coffeemaker at many different meetings, a couple of group secretary spots, several treasurer posts and GSR; and I have been privileged to sponsor quite a few men. All have been important in my recovery, and rewarding far in excess of any effort on my part.

I was told early on you can’t keep it if you don’t give it away. For me it’s a privilege to be part of this wonderful Fellowship. It has been an even greater privilege to have been involved with any AA service. I was told as a newcomer to not drink, go to meetings, work the Steps, and get involved—wonderful advice that has led to a great life.

NORM H.

Cary, North Carolina