Connecting With a Higher Power via the Basic Literature – Don

I'm happy to introduce your speaker for this evening. He's a man I love and a man I respect, and he's given me a lot. We share some of the same meetings together through the week in our neighborhood, and I'm very happy to introduced to you Don Pee from Lakewood. I'm Don and I'm an alcoholic it's good to be here tonight and like you've seen and heard before me it's a pleasure it's great to be sober just to be sober I got a couple of deals I gotta get rid of I wanna thank Elsie Faye and the committee for this invitation of sharing tonight and I got a friend in this room probably the best friend I ever had she's a gal she's not a member of nothing she's a gal that I met at her 16th birthday and I wasn't even invited. And when I met her, I was loaded on wine and weed. And she's been in my life ever since. And I call her my starry-eyed chick and I'd like to introduce my wife Elsie today. And I love A.A., and I love to be sober. And I got two home groups. The Big Book group of Bellflower is kind of a home group to me. I love them very much. And then I got my own group. And like my friend Johnny always says, no matter where your own group is or what it is, you better be very proud of it. And my group is Compton. You newer ones, I'll give you an idea how us alcoholics operate. If you look in the directory, it reads, Compton Sunday Night Group located at Bellflower. And God bless these old-timers. God bless those old-times that I sobered up with. And when I'd get to a meeting on Sunday night, they'd call me wetback. They'd ask me for my green card. And one of our friends' texts that passed on a few years ago and passed on as a champion, sober, used to call me Portuguese and I'll tell you this I'm of a Russian mother and an Italian father and I was raised with the Mexicans and I'm left handed and alcoholic So you can take and do what you want with it. But we got some new ones here. And I don't know who's no or what's what. But for any new ones, no or ones, or anybody having trouble, trouble, I can only tell you what these old-timers told me when I got here. and God bless these old timers God bless them because one night sitting on my hands with my back up against the wall in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting God bless this old timer they shot me down with the most beautiful word in the world the most beatiful and there's a lot of words in this world And there's a lot of great words in this world. And there're a lot words in the so-called Webster's Dictionary that I don't know how to read. And one night they shut me down with the most beautiful word in the world. Because at the end of this life, at the ends of this trip with alcohol and narcotics, narcotics. People, people out there and people, people that were kind of near me, kind of not too close, they stopped saying them to me completely, completely. To be honest with you, I hadn't heard of them for quite a few years. And one night sitting on my hands with my back up against the wall, they shot me down with the most beautiful word in the world. And for you new ones, newer ones, or anybody having trouble, I hope to hell I shoot you down. I hope I do because they told me I was welcome. Welcome to Alcoholics Anonymous. They told me if I was having trouble with booze. If I was having trouble with boozes, I was in the right spot and I was home free. Free. Because AA worked and AA worked good. And I love AA and I love to be sober. For you new ones, hear about God mentioned in AA. And let me tell you this, don't let to bug you. Alcoholics Anonymous is not a religion. There is no way in the world strictly impossible for us members of AlcoholicsAnonymous to take a rubber stamp and stamp religion on our literature. It's impossible. God won't let us. He won't. I asked him, I did he said no way you hear about a power you hear about a powerful greater than yourself and I'll tell you this and don't kid your bones about it it's very very spiritual very spiritual because by all living rights of my life, by all living rights of my life up to this very night, I'm supposed to be drunk. I'm supposed to be this big book of Alcoholics Anonymous that you heard the fifth chapter read out of, which is a heartbeat and a foundation of an AA way of life and that's what AA is. It's a way of life. It' s a way of life for an alcoholic to live very good, for an alcohol to live comfortable and for an alcoholic very sober. And this big book which I call my Bible today gives me Don every right in the world to tell anybody I want about Don and Don only. And I'll tell you this, I was born an alcoholic. Now some people might argue this fact and beef about it and say during the years in their course of their drinking somewhere along the line they drank over an invisible line into alcoholism. And I will also tell you that I ain't got no quarrel and I ain' got no beef because if you're an alcoholic, and I'm talking about alcoholic, if you are an alcoholic your drinking will never get better, never. It'll get worse. And after it gets worse, it'll get worser. And that's just what the hell it did. That's just what the hell it did. I can only share with you what these old-timers shared with me when I got here. I share you a drunken life, and I also share you an AA way of life. And I tell you this about my drunken wife, there is nothing funny or cute about my life before I reached the doors of AA. Nothing. I'm not proud of it. Not one second am I proud of it. But I'll also tell you this, I ain't a damn bit ashamed of it either because of what I found in AA. Because of what I found. I know people on this program that come out of $400,000 homes with carpets that dig on it that can buy and sell this part of town financially or damn near. Buy and sell it. Financially wise and educational wise they can stick this part of town in their back pocket and walk away with it and they have the same damn trouble I had same damn trouble booze booze and I share with you many years ago a 15 year old kid standing in the alleys of East L.A. in a Boyle Heights section in an old neighborhood down by the river full of immigrant people immigrant people from the old country Russians, Italians Mexicans Jewish Armenians standing in an alley 15 years old and I got my first jolt of that wonderful stuff called alcohol and I was hooked from my very first drink alcohol never left my life again never, until I walked through the doors of A.A. I was a teenage drunk, and I didn't get loaded in no teenage high school party either. I got loaded in an alley, in an ally behind a city playground with six friends of mine, the neighborhood wino. And this is the avenues that alcohol taken me on. I know the alleys, I know the streets, I know the jails and I know the institutions and my first drink in those days in my time in my neighborhood in those days was commonly known as Mexican Champagne Muscatel Wine and I was a guzzler from the start go because I guzzled for the bottom of the bottle and it did for me then what it did for me for 17 years of living screaming hell because I got loaded, I got smashed I got drunker than hell and I landed in jail the next morning I woke up at the Georgia Street, Pico Georgia Street police station in downtown Los Angeles juvenile tank booked on a common drunk charge and the next moment I woke up, I wokeup sick sick and every damn time I went out and got loaded the next morning I woke up sick thank God there was a water fountain in the joint but I was the only sick teenager in the join and being a teenager that I was and the common drunk charge that I had authorities notified a father up in Frisco to come down and get me out and he did and as we got on this streetcar and we started back for this barrio this bario, this neighborhood the good father that he was he chewed me up and he chewED me down and he told me to stay the hell out of jails and I told him I would and that night he got on a greyhound and went back to Frisco and the next day the next thing the next say automatically automatically I went back to my six buddies at the end of that alley because I found magic in a bottle pure instant magic I loved what alcohol did for me I loved everything about it I loved the feeling it gave me it lit me up like a Christmas tree automatically and it lit the world right around me lit it up automatically. The playground lights automatically got brighter. The kids that were doing the right thing playing football and baseball automatically made more noise. It let me walk down that neighborhood street tough, tough, gang related tough protect my territory in East L.A. We protect territories. We don't know why. Yeah. But we do. It let me stand on my corner and protect my territory. And from that instant on, I knew. I knew that nobody or nothing was going to get in between the magic I had found. I didn't know what it was going to do to me but I knew right then and there that nobody or anything was going get in between them I share with you an 18 year old kid 18 years old and there's no age whatsoever runs between the cover of this book no age what so ever and 18 years old I could have used every bit and every ounce of what this very program has to offer right then and there. But I couldn't have got here no sooner than I did, and I thank my God today. I thank My God today that I reached you people and the doors of AA for one very, very simple, simple reason, and the book talks about simplicity. It saved my life. It saved My life. and that's what the hell it's all about saving lives 18 years old in the old Los Angeles worldwide famous Lincoln Heights Grey Bar Hotel drunk tank drunk tank worldwide famous I think they know about that jail in Europe drunk jail drunk tank not one of these suburb tanks you see today with all those fine painted bars and no dust on them they even tell me they're painted two-tone I don't know drunk tank walls were drunk bars were drunk drunks were drunk there was no high powered murder tank in this jail the Black Mariah ran up 5th Street and Skid Row 24 hours a day and picked up every sick looking feeling alcoholic they can find and they'd stack you in this tank stack you there was no bunks in this tank they'd stick you in they'd stuck you 40 wide and 60 high and when you're sick and you need a drink and you want a drink and you can't go get a drink you need a drink, you want a drink but you can't go get a drink and in an alcoholic's life that's like living between heaven and hell but in those old days we used to have a very simple but yet very serious conversation very simple but yet very serious because we have a very serious disease the very nature The very nature of our disease, very serious. There's nothing funny, there's nothing cute, and there's nothing pretty about an alcoholic. And I'm talking about alcoholic. About an alcoholic going out and taking one drink. The very nurture of our diseases, sure disaster. Short disaster. Down the tube. My life showed me this before I got here. Showed it to me. And my beautiful book, and you beautiful people, you tell me this while I'm here. You keep it right up front for me. Right up front. And I love you for it. I love it. I love you for this conversation. I share the next couple of minutes, it don't mean a damn thing to my wife. It don't mean nothing to my mother. And it never meant nothing to my dad, God rest his soul, because they're not alcoholics. My wife couldn't be an alcoholic if she wanted to be because they don't know what the hell it is to crave a drink, to crave it they don't know what the hell it is for one's self to take everything dear and near that he loves within himself and smash it to death because he needs a drink they just don't know and they'll never know but in those old days they used to look up on your scratch sheet your jacket I heard a gal say one time in an AA meeting God bless her your track record and if you didn't have too many common drunk priors on you common drunk you know like slipping off the curb or walking into telephone post or walking into a doorway where there's no door you know common drunk or coming out of a joint or an alley and maybe you're living or think you're leaving four or five blocks away and you're trying to make it what you call home and by the time you get there you've got damn near killed yourself. Come and drunk. But in those old days they used to kick us out 5 o'clock in the morning they'd kick us out 40 or 50 at a time 40 or 50 at that time 40 or 50 at a time and if you missed that 5 o clock call you knew you had another chance at 830 it was easy riding but if you missed that 830 call then you knew you was had you knew you had to go see the man and after that first line of court would let out 9 30 in the morning, and the rest of us waiting for 10 o'clock court? Has these guys filed out the courtroom and down the cement hallway with smash up to the front of that gate as tight as we can get? And very simple but yet very serious, the conversation ran like this. What's the man handing out? Is he giving out 30, 60, 90, 180? And you hope to Christ whoever was on a bench that morning, whoever he was, the name didn't really matter, that he had the privilege to kiss his old lady goodbye or something good and very special would happen in his life between his house and that bench. In fact, you'd actually pray for it. But many, many, many times, many many times in my life when I got that 30, 60, 90 or whatever the hell they gave me and I got physical healthy and I fattened up on that yellow mushroom beans I had a sincerity inside of Don that all us alcoholics have. We all have it. But in those days, I could never grasp and hang on to it. And when my roll-up day was getting close and I knew I was going to hit the streets again, that little voice inside of Don would jump up loud and clear and with all honesty within, it would say this, next time it's going to be different. I'm going to straighten up and fly right or whatever the hell it took. and it'd take me about 25 minutes to cross those railroad tracks and get back in that neighborhood and get on my corner and then those cops from that Hollenbeck station could have came down the hill and made the big capture any time they wanted to. I share with you a 21-year-old man that grabbed some of that sincerity I had on that second floor tank, straighten up, fly right, settle down like the rest of the people stay out of the streets and stay out of jails and I met a young square chick young square square she didn't cuss she didn'T smoke she went to church and I didn'T I jived and connived and sweet talked her and loved talked her and talked her into marrying me, and with all her young heart and soul, she fell hook, line, and sinker. I told her I would work hard for her and protect her, and she wouldn't have a damn thing to worry about the rest of her life. And with all your young heart, and soul she fell hook,line, and thinker, and we got married, and then I took her on a rip-roaring life of an alcoholic, a living screaming nightmare because the jails didn't stop. The jive and the conniving, the lying didn't start. The common drunk charges stopped because somebody out there educated me a little and taught me how to drive an automobile. And then came the 502s. I share with you a young father and a young husband and a young baby daughter, and I'm standing in an old wooden house in East L.A., and I're in a living room, and I'm sick, sick, and I need a drink and I want a drink, but I don't go get a drink. And I'm the only one doing the talking. I just bailed myself out of the L.A. County Jail with the rent money on my first 502 and when you do something like that you're usually the only one doing the talking but I'm telling this gal for the thousandth and one time in her life I've had it, I'm finished I quit for the rest of my life and I meant every living breath of it I meant every living breath of it. And then came another 502, then came Another 502 Then came Another 502 Then came Two More And then it got worse. I worked hard for a drink I worked hard for a drink and I stole hard for a drink. I'm a thief my wife knows I'm a thief I know I'm a thief God knows I'm a thief now you know I am a thief but when I needed a drink I needed a drink I had a craving and a thirst in this body that wouldn't quit that wouldn't quit. I never once in my life sat there and said shall I take a drink or shall I not take a drink? Not once. I never once in my life sat there and said shall I not drink because the old lady's mad. Hell, she was mad all the time. All the time. I didn't want no part of AE. I did not want to come to Alcoholics Anonymous I had it mentioned in my life twice before I got here just mention once when I was 20 years old doing some time in this famous gray bar hotel an old wino from the San Fernando Valley area one of the unfortunates that our book talks about unfortunate and they are not at fault they are not at fall that failed to grasp some manner of living in physical sobriety or dryness or whatever the hell you want to call it that was just capable of staying physically sober for six ten months whatever this man see me flopping out of drunk tanks and courtrooms for two years straight, mentioned Alcoholics Anonymous to me, had everything good to say about it, but I was young, fast and smart and I turned my back on it and walked away from it. And three years before I got here, this starry-eyed chick that wasn't starry eyed no more that was a full-fledged veteran and cussed like a trooper mentioned Alcoholics Anonymous to me one night and that damn near killed her that night. Because I didn't want no part of nothing, I did not know about the hopeless and the helpless before I got to you people and this beautiful book. But I figured I was going to die drunk so what? It's my life and what the hell is everybody worried about? That's what was buried inside of Don. That's what was buried inside of Don when I reached the doors of A.A. And at the end of this trip, I was hooked on vodka and narcotics and the son of a bitch turned me every way but loose and I couldn't afford it. The narcotic part, I don't know what the doctors call them. I know them as Benny's, Dexy's, Yellow's and Red's and a hell of a lot of weed and a heck of a hell lot of alcohol. And I worked sick and I worked drunk until I couldn't work no more, and then I stole because I needed a drink. And at the end of this trip, I had three important people in my life that were important to me, but I would never tell nobody this. I wouldn't even tell them that, because us alcoholics, we're a strange breed of cats. Strange breed. It's against the grain of the wood for us to cop out. It's again our very nature, we don't like to cop out and coming into AA I found out that copping out is one of the greatest freedoms within oneself. But at the end of this trip this starry eyed chick that wasn't starry eye no more that had three other boys added to this family moved me out of East L.A. one night for the first time in my life, 30 miles south to a little town called Compton, and then I had two places to operate in. It didn't take me long to start operating around Compton. But one night this gal told me this. She said, I ain't going to get a divorce. Don't ask me why. I love to believe today. I look to carry this in my heart and in my soul for my own personal reason. She said, I ain't going to get a divorce. I love to believe because of one of two reasons. One, because of her old-fashioned way and her old fashioned soul. Or two, because her Catholic faith and her Catholic God for better or worse than whatever the hell you have. I'd love to carry that with me today. But one night this gal told me this. She said, I ain't going to get a divorce. You can come in and out of this house as you please. As you please, because I don't care no more. But I want to tell you this, you son of a bitch. The longer you stay away from me and the children, the better off we all are. And I figured you too, my lady, after I worked heart-free all my life. And I slapped her on a shelf of hate, my shelf, my hate, that ran with my alcohol and narcotic beef. Every ounce, every ounce of that hate was mine, only I didn't know it was all mine until after I sobered up in AA. But I walked out and I went over to see a mother-in-law, the greatest mother- in-law a man can have, God rest her soul. She passed on a couple of years ago. The greatest. That sometimes when I was loaded or sick in her neighborhood in the earlier days, I'd go in and jive and conniver out of 75 cents, half a buck, try to get a short dog, try to getting a Mickey, try to Get Well because it's the only way I knew. I learned that from my six friends in that alley right from the beginning. That morning drink was nothing new to me. They told me, get some of the hair of the dog that bit you. And that just came automatically. And in the earlier days, this mother-in-law, she'd cuss me out politely but give me the money and I'd go on my way. and that night she stepped over the line and she told me this ya no cabron, no more I don't think I gotta translate that that runs heavy in any man's language but she said I'm not on your side no more I'm on my daughter's side because you're not taking care of my daughter and you're now taking care of my grandkids And I figured, you too, my lady, you're as bad as your daughter. And I slapped her on the shelf and I walked out. And one day, staggered around a construction yard, an Okie superintendent called me in for a deep, serious conversation. A man that I worked hard for, in and out of jail, but when I worked for him, I worked heart for him and he knew I worked heart for them. He fired me for the third and last time as a bitchin' old drunk. He told me to get the hell out of his life and stay out of it. Out of his wife. And I figured you too, huh, buster? After I worked hard for you all my life and I slapped him on the shelf and I walked out. And then one night, something happened to Don. Along with my hate, I also hated Okies and Arkies and Texans or anybody from the farm country. for no big deal, Palm Springs for no big deal because in my eyes, in my eyes alone you was a bunch of squares from the farm country. I fought with you I drank with you. I lost a hell of a lot of them. I might have won a couple but no big detail because in my eyes, in my eyes alone, you was a bunch of squares from the farm country and I was a big time swinger from East L.A. Big time operator. I swang out of a pool hall to the institutions and back again. Big time operator. Pool hall. Not one of these billiard halls you see today with all that neon jazz and lit up like the May Company. Pool hall. They got them in Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas. Looked like an old garage some of my buddies shoved some pool tables in. And when you went around front you seen a hand-painted sign said pool. And when your walk through the front door you seen their draft beer bar and their mellow wines in the shelf. And when you went back where the tables was, it was dark and dingy and you could smell the weed rolling right around the wall. And I was a big-time swinger. I swang from there to the jails and back again. And along with my plowboy friends, I also hated the Salvation Army too. Because in my time, in my times, if you happen to be staggering down Main Street in Los Angeles, 99 times out of 100 you'd either find the Salvation Army on 2nd, 3rd or 4th or Main and they'd be beating their drums and tooting their horn and doing their thing and I preached the word of love which many, many times in my life before I reached the doors of AA I had many opportunities with this word through relatives and through people and institutions but I turned my back on it and walked away from it because I figured it was for sissies but I'll tell you this loud and clear loud and clearly I know what love is today no doubt inside I'm going to sit down one second tonight no doubt whatsoever I love AA and I love to be sober They mentioned the word of God, and I'd cross the street and go down the other side because I had a deadly fear of the word God. And then one night, something happened to Don. I was on a vacant lot in the little town of Compton, and I didn't have a damn thing, nothing. I had a pair of Levi's and a t-shirt And the Levi's wasn't dark blue either And I was in and out of this house But more out than in Because alcohol had taken its toll Like this very book said it will Your drinking will never get better It'll get worse And after it gets worse, it'll worser And I had full half pint of vodka and I drank half of it and I never drank half of nothing in my entire life not once and a strange thing happened to Don the thought of Alcoholics Anonymous seeped in my head and it said go see just go take a look and I counted three telephone posts to the left and four to the right and I statched a half a half and I figured if I didn't find what I was looking for I'm coming back for you. And I wiggled myself around this town and I found myself in front of this house this house where this starry-eyed chick that wasn't starry eyed and four kids was this house that had been in and out but more out than in and that night I walked in that house I proceeded to do the hardest thing I ever did in my entire life bar none bar none long time, short time any kind of time it didn't really matter but I walked across the living room floor and I got as far as the kitchen door jam I couldn't get no farther and I leaned up against it And this gal must have just got through feeding these kids something, I don't know. But she was trying to jam an old pot in the bottom of this old stove and it wouldn't go in. And as she turned and looked at me from top to bottom and bottom to top, there was none of that deal, hi honey you home. That had been eliminated a long time ago from the abuse of alcohol and narcotics. But physically, physically being nice to myself I weighed 120 pounds soaking wet My arms up here was as thick as my wrists are tonight And my eyes were sunk in a couple of inches And in a very weak, weak, sick, sick voice Not near the voice you hear tonight Not near I said this do you still have the phone number to Alcoholics Anonymous and she jammed that pot around a little and then she told me this loud and clear yeah I got it why? and a little sicker than the first time and a hell of a lot weaker than the first time and with every ounce of anything I had left going for me inside or out I said this, imagine would you do me a favor would you do me and call them for me? And she jammed that damn pot in that stove I thought a shotgun went off and then she told me this, loud and clear, if you want him you son of a bitch call him yourself And I figured, Jesus Christ, you females are something else. Three years before I got here, three years before I got there, this same grown woman, matured woman stood in front of me bawling hysterically like a baby begging me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. and now you give me a shot like this you females or something else but I say this God bless you females and God bless that woman God bless her thank God the cheapest and the best 10 cents phone call in my entire life from day one up was made that night. She dialed and I talked and two complete strangers came and got me. Strangers. Cowboys. Plowboys. And they took me to an old dingy building on the west side of Compton and as I sat on my hands with my back up against the wall I didn't know it then but there is no doubt inside of Don one second tonight no doubt whatsoever that God had finally lifted a deal from me that he had lifted from thousands of us thousands of his alcoholics walking working living and laughing out there sober. Walking, working, living and laughing out there sober. Because for the very first time in my life I was able to see and for the very first time in my live I was able to hear. And what I seen was people that drank like I drank and been where I've been and they were sober. And what I seen was people that drank like I drank and hadn't been where I've been. And they were sober. And what I heard, God bless this man. God bless him. May he rest in peace. And I know he is. My sponsor, Gus Hood of Linwood, passed on a year ago. Passed on as a champion with 31 years of constant sobriety, because AA worked and AA were good. Unreal goat. Tough old Irishman. Tough. Ball-headed, crooked nose, finger mints on one hand. Told me I had a disease. Nobody never told me I'd have a disease? Never. They used to tell me I was no damn good. And hell, that part didn't bother me too much. Not really. I never hung on that too much before I got to AA because I ran around with a hell of a lot of guys I knew weren't too damn good. Besides that, with my crazy conception in God and family before I guided to AA, my own conception, I figured God threw one black sheep in every single family on earth. some families had three or four but every family had one but he didn't say that he told me I had a disease he said this you being alcoholic you being alcoholic the first drink got you drunk and I always thought it was the last fifth or whatever the hell it took he said you being alcoholic once too many and a thousand ain't enough and this sponsor in his own way seen that I walked straight down the line of Alcoholics Anonymous seen that there was no jiving and conniving he told me if I took these twelve steps in the fifth chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous which are tools to a sober life and applied applied if I chewed them up and swallowed them and digested them within oneself that nothing but good would happen to me nothing but god nothing but God that I'd be given a brand new life and that's what I live today a brand spanking new life completely opposite of the habitual drunk that I am. I ain't had an eyedrop of alcohol I ain' had a drag of weed tranquilizer, sleeping pill nothing chemical put in this body in 22 years 10 months and 28 days. And I tell you, no one's this for one reason and one reason only. AA works, and AA works good. Profession? I'm a professional ditch digger. That's my profession. All right, brother. you know these big billboard signs you see all around town and up and down the freeway that the city fathers and politicians keep screaming don't want up I put them up or I did put them off on the first of last month I'm now what you call a retired tits digger the first of last month I was retired by doctors on a medical retirement because of a bum damaged leg but I talk about this job for one reason and one reason only I got no education they paid me very well they let me take care of what I got in East Lakewood tonight and I'll tell you this I got very much very, very much I still got that same starry-eyed chick only she's starry eyed today because you people and with the faith and the strength and the belief and the wisdom of the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous had a word called love you put a little crazy gleam back in her face and a grin back on her face that I wiped out 22 years ago and of myself this very night could never replace. And I love AA and I love to be sober. I got four children, a daughter, three sons. Each in their own way have showed me total forgiveness. My daughter is a dietician supervisor one son's a diesel mechanic for the Don Deere cooperation one son is a welder and a labor and the other son's a truck driver and a laver and my youngest boy had never seen me take a drink and if you walk up to this boy and you look in his eye you'll see a gleam in his eye and a grin on his face, and no shame within his own body. He'll tell you this, my dad's an alcoholic, and my dad is an AA. I know what a house means to a woman, or little more than I ever knew. Not the full package. Because I'm street people. I come from the street. But way down deep in every woman's heart, there's a similar little spot. I don't care if she lives in a chicken shack. I don'T care as long as she's got her name plate on it and she lives in a Chicken Shack and she's gotta get up every morning and scrub it and delouse it and get presentable for her friends of the day. There's a certain little thing in her heart. I drank up their home they had in Compton. For 15 years, I drank it up. I lost it through the wreckage of the past that my book talks about, four years after I was sober. And I lost this for this reason and this reason only. And I tell you new ones, newer ones, or anybody having trouble, I tell you old timers as I tell myself tonight You listen and you listen good And you listen with an open mind Because we got a sentence in this book That eliminates us from everybody else on earth Everybody It says remember We're dealing with alcohol Cunning, baffling and powerful and each and every one in this room in our own way, in our own life, knows what it is to deal with alcohol. I know what it is to work hard for it. I knowwhat it isto lie and cheat and steal for it and I knowwhatitis to hurt loved ones for it and God bless these old timers that I sobered up in Alcoholics Anonymous with with their tough love that comes out of the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous told me the very nature of our disease the bottom line in Alcoholics Anonymous physical sobriety has to be number one it's gotta be the book puts it this way willing to go to any lengths any lengths it don't say a half a length three quarter of a length full length Any place, any time, anywhere, anyhow Willing My last eyedrop of alcohol My last drag of any kind of weed Tranquilizer, sleeping pill Was on July the 5th, 1960 On a vacant lot Nine months physically sober A member of Alcoholics Anonymous Going to meetings daytime and nighttime Hanging on to anything I can hang on to One morning I woke up in a courtroom, and I've been in many courtrooms in my life, but I've never been in a courtroom like this. And I was in Court 95 at the Los Angeles County Hospital Mental Court, and a wife was sitting on one side of me crying like a baby, and a dad, a construction logging man, sitting on the other side of him crying like he was a baby. and a beautiful bald-headed old man with a crooked nose and a finger missing off of one hand was standing beside me representing me as a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and speaking for me because I was unable due to the fact that the last five years of constant use daily of a combination of alcohol and narcotic barbiturates A judge and seven psychiatrists had my jacket up in front of them, and on the last page in red letters an inch and a half high and a halftime. Half an inch wide, stamped, 32 years old, chronic alcoholic, uncurable, and court ordered me by the state of California and sentenced me to Camarillo State Hospital for the rest of my life on what the medical authorities figured was a wet brain. Four years later, locked under key, marched to the mess hall and marched back again, a hell of a lot of shock treatments, and the help of God, they opened the doors at me at Norwalk State. And I love AA, and I love to be sober. Fresh out of Norwalk state, I never went back and asked this okie superintendent for a job. I chalked it up as a wreckage of the past that my book talks about as a complete loss. Fresh out of Norwalk State, working in a sandblasting outfit in the Watts area for $1.85 an hour, Marshall's Garmer, she might check three times a week. I was A number one on the blacklist of credit. I couldn't buy a toothbrush on credit, and I was going to meetings and staying sober because AA worked and AA worked good. And I love AA and I love to be sober. Fresh out of Norwalk State, one Friday night I came home from this sandblasting outfit and I walked in the living room of this house in Compton and this gal was standing in her living room bawling like a baby and I told her, what the hell's the matter with you? And she said, we gotta move, we lost our house. And I said, no big deal, we'll move. And she says, you don't seem to understand. We gotta move by Monday. And I say, no Big Deal, we're moving. And she said, you don't seem to understand, smart guy. You alcoholics always claim you're so damn smart. Well, tell me how smart you are, wise guy. You got me and four kids and no deposit for rent. So where in the hell are you going to take us? And I said, down your mother's house. Yeah. I panicked and I walked over in the corner and I asked God and God said go down your mother-in-law's house and my mother-In-law God rest her soul with the kind heart she always had gathered us in gathered us like a mother hen gathering her chicks with no questions asked, and we stayed there for a while. And then we camped out in a condemned house in East Lakewood. And within a period of seven years of sobriety, my Opie superintendent called this gal up one day and hired me for a 90-day commitment. And I have been working for the man ever since, ever since the end, the last month, without a bit of trouble. No trouble whatsoever, because it says in here, practice these principles in all our affairs, not some of our affairs. I say this. I say this. You take what lies between the cover of this book. You take the faith and the strength and the hope and the wisdom along with a word called love, and you put some in a house with you and you put some on a job with you and you let it walk beside you in the street and there ain't nothing gonna touch you or bother you. Nothing. I don't think of a drink, need a drink want a drink I'm completely free of what this very book talks about completely free and I love AA and I live in the world and I don' t love to be sober acceptance acceptance acceptance within oneself is the greatest freedom on earth who you are what you are where you are why you are how you are. No beef, no quarrel, no nothing, zero. Of myself I am nothing. Of myself I have nothing. When me and this wife lost this house we accepted the fact that would never own property again for the rest of our lives. No beef,no quarrel or nothing. Fourteen years ago on a rainy night living in a condemned house, escrow handed me a keys to a house. And I couldn't buy a toothbrush on credit. And it's not my house. It don't belong to me. It's not mine. It' s not a fabulous house. My wife calls it fabulous. I say it's a very comfortable house. It's the first house we've ever had with complete floor-to-floor carpeting and drapes in it because it come with the deal. And I called up some of these winners I ran with, and you know ones? They say stick with the winners, stick with them. The ones with constant sobriety because that's what the hell it's all about. And I call up some of these winters on a rainy night and they did like all alcoholics do. They put the bedroom in the kitchen and the kitchen in the bedroom and they drank up all my coffee and they left at 3 o'clock in the morning. And as I went to greet my friends goodnight and I went to close the door and my boys were much smaller then and they were fast asleep and the house was warm the roof didn't leak and it had a floor furnace but on that last click all of a sudden this house got a funny kind of quietness to it. That special kind. You know the kind. That scary kind. The kind you feel like somebody's in a room but you can't see them. The kind that you feel if you had a pin and dropped it from this height on a rug might sound like a bomb. and I didn't hear an ounce of noise and I wondered where in the hell this starry-eyed chick of mine was at and once again many years later I walked across the living room floor and once agin many years later I got as far as the kitchen door jam I couldn't get no farther physically I was capable up to this very night I'll never know why not but this gal was standing with her back towards me looking out this back kitchen window looking at this fine mist of rain falling on her garage and this fine Mist of Rain falling on her yard. And as I walked up there to put my armor on her because I wanted to put My armor on Her. But as I got up to her and I looked at her the water was running out of her eyes water. And I told her this I said, what the hell's the matter with you? And this is what came out of her. She said, I can't believe it. I simply can't believe it, and with my lips sealed and no explanation whatsoever, I stepped back by my icebox and I thanked my God and each and every one of you in Alcoholics Anonymous for making a thing like this possible because I could never do this before I got here. Never. And then I did step up next to her and I did put my arm around her and without explanation I told her this, don't you worry about it. Don't you worried your head about it one second. It belongs to you and it's yours. In fact, it's your Christmas present for the next 30 years. and I'll take about four or five minutes, and then I've got to shut up. But I want to share. I want to share some faith, some strength, some hope that I found in A.A. Mine. I only owe five things in that house. That's all I own. I'll fight them for it and they know I'll fight them for it and I'll fight them for it tonight then they know I'm going to fight them for it tonight I own one little corner by my bed my wife said it's the lousiest corner in the house not because not by what's there it's the way a house keep it but right next to my bed sits a picture of what AA is all about. And it's given to me by the prisoners at the Federal Penitentiary at Terminal Island. And you old-timers have seen it, and you new ones, you ain't seen it. You stick around, you will see it. And that's what AA Is All About. And that talks to me every single morning. And it's that sick drunk sitting on the side of the bed. And he says, man, I'm sick and I know what you're talking about. And there's two complete strangers sitting in front of him with a suit on and a tie on and this very, very same big book in their hand. And they say, you come with us and you stay with us and you'll stay in AA and you're staying sober. And it belongs to me, it's mine. And right next to it is an AA praying hands, a nightlight given to me a few years ago by this starry I chicken mine on one very, very warm, sunny Easter morning. And it belongs to me. It's mine. And wrapped on a wall is a plaque given to me by two Texas women that I love very much. And its that great prayer that saved my life many, many times because it works and it works good. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and it belongs to me, it's mine. And in my dining room sits another big picture called The Grace given to me by a mother a mother that hadn't seen or heard from me for eight years and this picture, The Grace is a picture of an old bum sitting at a table and he's got a different kind of big book in front of him with a cross on it and he has an old bowl of beans and an old loaf of bread and an own knife and this old bum has his hands grasped in prayer and he thanked the almighty for the bread we have today and it belongs to me it's mine and back in my corner by my bed sits another big book handmade by this starry-eyed chick of mine a couple of years ago. Handmade. You've seen the kind. It's the kind they open up and they glue it and they shellac it so you can't close it no more and they stick it on a wooden deal and on one side is a picture of Christ and on the other side is a prayer or sayings that kind of finds myself of my own findings in Alcoholics Anonymous and it reads like this I sought my soul and my soul I could not see I sought my God and he had looted me I sought my brothers and I found all three and I loved the faith strength and hope I found in AA and I'll tell you this and then I gotta shut up Alcoholics Anonymous Alcoholics Anonymous has done a fabulous thing in my life, fabulous it has taken a rebel like me out of left field and set me right smack in my family circle my loved ones and dear ones are very close and very dear to me today but I want to tell you this without condemning a thing or a soul out there I wantto tell you this, you're the greatest of them all. You're the greatest of them all because you're the only ones I know on one cold night never told me to get the hell out. You said stay in AA and you'll stay sober. And I say stay in AA and you'll stay sober. I want to thank my good friend Elsie Fay and the committee for inviting me. I want to thank each and every one of you for letting a stumble-bump drunk like me come in and get a little piece of life. Un pedazo de vida. A little piece of life, because that's what the hell it's all about. Thank you. God bless you. And I hope to hell nobody in this room has to take another drink. Thank you! Thank you very much.