It would be fascinating to know what they were thinking that Tuesday night in October 1946, the men and, given the times, few women arriving at St. George’s United Church at Duplex Ave. and Lytton Blvd. for the first ever meeting of the North Toronto Group of Alcoholics Anonymous. For six months, they had gathered in private homes, usually at Mac H’s place nearby. Their numbers had grown as news of the informal sessions spread by word of mouth. Now, the new followers of the fledgling phenomenon of AA needed a larger space. A call was made to the pastor at St. George’s. And the North Toronto AAs were welcomed in.

Could even the most optimistic of those first members have guessed how many among them would get, stay and die sober after long, productive lives? Did any, in their heart of hearts, dare hope that just maybe they were starting something important and durable.

As the future would show, they did. And they were. For seven decades, the group they established - one of the earliest in Toronto - has continued to meet at that same church, doors open to new generations of men, women and young people desperate for sobriety and a better life.

On Oct. 4, 2016, the North Toronto Group of Alcoholics Anonymous - like many products of the post-war Baby Boom - celebrates its 70th anniversary at what is now Eglinton-St. George’s Church.

In almost every respect, the world has changed hugely in those 70 years. But at North Toronto, AA members who showed up for the first time in 1946 would find things quite familiar were they to attend a meeting in 2016.

One young woman was just months sober when she was asked to be one of the speakers at North Toronto’s 60th anniversary in 2006.

”I was really nervous,” she recently recalled.

As the group took its seats, she told a man and woman sitting next to her that she was trembling at the prospect of speaking. They recommended she say a prayer.

”And I did say a prayer, sitting right there,”. Really, I think it’s what saved me.”

From that day on, that young woman has been a faithful member of North Toronto. In 2016, more than 10 years sober, she was active in planning the 70th anniversary - giving back, passing it on.

”When you find a miracle, you know, you’re pretty grateful.”

In March 1946, ‘The Lost Weekend’ - a movie based on novelist Charles Jackson’s horrifying account of several days in the life of an alcoholic - won four Academy Awards.

It may or may not be coincidence that the seeds of what would become the North Toronto group of Alcoholics Anonymous were planted that month. Or that by fall North Toronto would be established as one of the earliest AA groups in the city.

One NT long-timer joined the group when Mac H., one of the original members, was still around. Mac said that “some people who attended the meeting at City Hall decided to hold a discussion meeting on Friday nights in people’s homes in March of ‘46.”

Due to rising attendance and a wish that spouses could join members at their meetings, they looked for a bigger space. And when Mac phoned St. George’s Church he found Rev. John Short and a warm reception.

It turned out Rev. Short had already received mimeographed copies of the Big Book sent to him by a colleague in New York. “What took you so long?” he asked. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

When North Toronto’s first meeting was held in October 1946 AA was still in its infancy in Canada. The country’s first AA meeting had been held just three years earlier - on Jan 13, 1943, at the Little Denmark Restaurant on Bay Street.

Soon enough, North Toronto became home to some of the local legends in the program and pioneers in recovery. Members such as Alex H., Reg B., Jean T. and Tom G. took seriously the Big Book’s recommendation that “helping others is the foundation stone of your recovery.” They got sober at North Toronto, then carried the message into homes around town and into prisons around the province. They played key roles in staffing detoxes and starting halfway houses and treatment facilities.

In short order, North Toronto became a group of distinct personality, a place where principles were respected, decorum was demanded, and the helping hand of AA was always offered.

”When you walked into that room, it reeked of contented sobriety, it really did,” recalled Winston B., a North Toronto member from 1961-81 who retired to Halifax.

One of the men who joined North Toronto as the turbulent 1960s began was the late Alex H. “I went to the doors of the North Toronto group,” he said years later. “And they didn’t ask me what I had, who I was or where I came from. They took me in.” And for the rest of his life, Alex H. became the embodiment of gratitude in action.

”He was like this spirit moving around,” says Mort W., who got sober at North Toronto in 1961. “He seemed to be everywhere.”

A North Toronto member with 44 years sobriety and another sponsee of Alex H., said that, even now, he can close his eyes and picture the first row at open meetings in the 1970s. Roy C., Bob B., Al P., Roy McK.

”You didn’t dare sit in their seats,” the late Steve H. of Isabella-Crosstown recalled at North Toronto’s 60th anniversary. “It was reassuring to see them there every week. But it was also a little frightening. They were men who could see right through you.”

If commitment to program fundamentals seemed particularly tenacious in those days, it was because there were fewer meetings available to early AAs, fewer members around town to rely on, fewer options for alcoholics trying to recover.

”In the beginning, we had such a faith in the program and an objection to anything that was questioned about it,” said Kay H., who achieved more than 50 years of sobriety. “It got us sober, so we were so sure it was a solution and we hung on to it tooth and nail.”

In NT’s early days, someone always had the coffee ready in time for a newcomer to smell it stepping in the door. There was always a greeter on the door. Certain lengths of sobriety were required to speak or chair. Meetings started - and finished - on time.

”God help you if you were the speaker and you went on too long,” Mort laughed. “Gosh, the coughing!”

Use of profanity from the podium would also earn a private word, he said. “An old-timer was bound to say quietly that ‘if you cut out the four-letter words, you’d have a shorter - and much better - talk!”

At North Toronto it was understood from early on that alcoholism was a family disease, that spouses had a role in recovery. Through the early decades, spouses - usually wives in those days - made meeting nights a social occasion, churning out sandwiches and baking.

Perhaps because of that, and its address in an affluent part of town, North Toronto became a rather stylish place of china cups and fancy dress, its membership including judges, cabinet ministers and Bay St. money-men.

”They sat there in their three-piece suits,” Mort recalled.

”Everyone was dressed up.”

One of those who found that to be the case was Alan J., who arrived at North Toronto in his late 60s. When he died in 2012, Alan had enjoyed several years of sobriety. And is grateful family said in his obituary that “Alan lived one day at a time.”

As with all groups, North Toronto found its membership rise and fall over the years. After the heady days of its beginnings, numbers fell during the first year or two of the new millennium when the group held its meetings in another church while St. George’s was renovated.

For a time, in fact, North Toronto even became known as the “Grumpy Old Men’s” group. But to the women who arrived at the doors in the 21st century to find sobriety this proved to be no great barrier. One woman remembered that about the time she arrived in 2010 a core group of North Toronto women had started a Big Book study before the open meeting on Tuesday nights.

”That was really helpful. It was definitely these women who made an impact on me and kept me coming back to North Toronto.” There was also a satisfying sense of defiance, she laughed, in “becoming part of the ‘Grumpy Old Men’.”

That fact that the group had shrunk in size actually helped her feel more comfortable, “My presence was noticed".”

Another woman, who has become a leader in the small but solid women’s caucus at North Toronto, agreed that a sense of being recognized, valued and belonging is a huge factor in her recovery.

It makes me feel so good to be a part of this group and walk through the doors Tuesdays and Fridays,” she says. “I’m grateful and know my sobriety is built on the messages and learnings of those who came before me. It’s solid and somewhat old-school and I like that.”

Through the years, the formula for success at North Toronto has remained more or less as it had always been. Don’t drink. Go to meetings. Join a group. And get active. People arrived, got active and became stalwart members. Another woman said she felt “at home right from the start” after transferring from another group, in large measure because she attended business meetings and became Intergroup rep. “I think doing service helps me to be part of North Toronto.”

As it has been for 79 years, the AA steps, the fellowship and service have produced contented sobriety, true friendship and a profound sense of gratitude.

At a memorial for the legendary Betty B., who was a frequent presence at North Toronto’s Friday night discussion meetings and a mentor to legions of young women, One of those women sang a hymn for her friend.

What she sang was Amazing Grace. Seventy-nine years on, as generations of AAs could attest, it could very well serve as North Toronto’s theme song.