Jack B. traces a fuse lit at twelve—bottled courage shared with his brother, a chemical that replaced a childhood chemical imbalance. He rode tankers, shook down Greeks, and ran crap games until the Bowery swallowed him: hemorrhages, wood alcohol, and a judge’s death sentence from three doctors.
Homicidal maniac. Wet brain. Dead in five.
Then his wife asked if he’d try AA again. Filthy, bleeding, on his knees, he let two gentle strangers pick him up. Sixteen years later, he’s a working alcoholic, guiding kids at Lincoln H., keeping cops and robbers from each other, and trading his old life for a daily handoff to his friend upstairs.
The wreckage is the diploma. The program is the only medicine.
of the Independence Group. I certainly want to extend the welcome of the Independence Group
and certainly the gratitude of the members of the group for your being here to help us
celebrate our anniversary. I hate to start anything with an excuse or...
of the Independence Group. I certainly want to extend the welcome of the Independence Group
and certainly the gratitude of the members of the group for your being here to help us
celebrate our anniversary. I hate to start anything with an excuse or an apology, but we
had a little foul up. There may not be quite enough chairs, but they say this is the most
disorganized organization in the world, and I guess a few of us have stood for hours at bars,
so I'm afraid some of us will have to make the best of it. I'm sorry. We were supposed to have
had about 30 more chairs, but they weren't there when we went to get them. Without any further
preliminaries, I'd like to thank all of you for joining us. Thank you.
I want you to meet a man from Mount Vernon, New York, who has become a good friend of mine in the
last few weeks, Jack Brannon of the Sobriety Unlimited Group, also sometimes known as the
Cops and Robbers Group. I'm sure you'll be hearing more about this from Jack.
I was in New York several weeks ago and went to the Al-Anon Club on West 46th Street,
they happened to play a tape that night, and the tape was Jack.
And those of you who knew Howard Benhoff may not recognize, as I did, a certain quality in
Jack's voice, but that tape reminded me of Howard. Or perhaps it was the direct
aggressiveness of Jack's particular brand of AA that reminded me of Howard. I don't know for sure,
but I looked him up.
I looked him up on a subsequent trip to New York, heard him lead a couple times, and I have become
fascinated with the selfless way in which he works his AA. I know I'm embarrassing him because he
just goes and does these things and doesn't think too much about them. They've become his way of
life. To me, it's a fascinating way of AA life and a dedication of the 12th step. Now, without
anything further,
Jack, you're on.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Jack Brennan. I am an alcoholic.
I flew in this morning on a jet. It was my first trip on a jet,
and my stomach is somewhere back there. It's on its way.
We have become very good friends,
Bob and I.
Two minutes after the plane took off, our friendship ceased. That was it.
I don't look forward to going home tomorrow, but it is a long walk.
And I don't know really what to do except to get on the plane again and be sure and let the man
upstairs know it's me. And I got to tell him I'm not in a car this time. I'm in a plane. Look out
for me.
The plane ride reminded me, or AA, I should say, reminds me
of a girl who was on a plane, and she was reading her Bible. And it was something that
always did. The guy was a few too many, and he came by, and he looked at her, and he said,
do you really believe what you read in that book? She said, of course I do.
And he said, you mean you read about Noah and the ark, and you believe it?
He said, if it's in this book, I believe it. And he said, you believe about Jonah and the whale,
too? She said, mister, I told you once, if it's in this book, I believe it.
So he said, well, how are you ever going to prove it? She said, well, I don't know,
but if I ever get to heaven, she said, I'll ask Jonah about the whale.
And he said, supposedly.
She said, no, she's not there. He's not there. She said, well, then you could ask him.
Well, that's about the way my AA runs. And now you've all had a look at me,
and you still have a nice tie on, and my wife insists I bring a tie.
And now you've all seen it, to hell with it, because I can't talk with a tie on.
I choke.
Now, there's one person out there, just only one, who is waiting to hear what I got to say.
He's pretty stupid, too, but that's all right.
The rest of you can wait around for the coffee. It can't go nowhere, so you may as well just sit
there quietly.
Listen, I know that my being here, through Bob and the group, is a direct order from the man
upstairs, my friend upstairs, as I call him. And there is some one person sitting out here
that I'm going to help. And I don't care who likes me. If you like me good, the rest of you,
and if you don't, that's just too damn bad, because I'm here and you're stuck, period.
I'm going to have my say, and then I'm going to go home to New York and hope that the person who
has helped will someday call me up and let me know about it, because then I can tell my friend
upstairs, you see, I'm still busy, so leave me alone for a while. And that's the way it works.
Now that I've proved to you that I'm a very funny fellow, I'm a very chemical lad, I can stand up
here from now until three o'clock in the morning and tell you jokes and have you rolling in the
aisle.
And it wouldn't mean a damn thing, nothing, because I'm an alcoholic and I'm inflicted
with a disease, an insidious disease. And the American Medical Association tells me
that there is nothing I can do about this disease. And they tell me now that my adrenal
gland doesn't work properly, and there's some malfunction in there that when I take a drink,
I go haywire.
And they say, too, that there are people that are predisposed to be alcoholics a long time before
they take a drink. I was one of these people. Now, it just depends on how badly your chemistry is
upset in your body as to how soon you're going to be an active alcoholic in trouble. Some people
take a little longer. Some people spread it out. Some people take a little longer. Some people
a little more. Mine was not so. Mine was fast and furious. I drank early. I finished early.
I almost died. So we look at alcohol today, or disease of alcoholism, I should say, and
a glass of alcohol to me is a match that lights a fuse, and depending on how long the fuse
is, the inevitable explosion if you're an alcoholic. I would like to go back just a
little ways and tell you how I felt as a kid, to prove to you that while this disease
is not inherited, it will prove to you that I have all the makeup of an alcoholic, and
as long back as I can remember. I came from a large family, seven kids. My father drank
periodically. He was an alcoholic. In those days we called him a dirty bum. He was not
an alcoholic, he was a dirty bum. And I can see now in my mind's eye that had AAB around,
he probably would have been a good member. Well, unfortunately, he wasn't.
When I was a kid and my father came home drunk, I used to hide in terror. The other six laughed
at him. They thought it was a huge joke. When he fell down the stairs, or when he took three
oranges and juggled them, or he put his hat on backwards and made funny faces for them,
they thought it was very comical. I thought it was horrible. It scared me half to death.
Because, I didn't look at my father any which way except as to what was coming when the
oranges got put down and the boobs ran out. Because then he turned into an animal. And
I knew this, and I feared it. And I was always worried about my mother. I was always worried
about what she was going to do and whether he would better that night or whether he would
go to bed quietly.
And I just worried
and worried
and worry but consequently i didn't go to school too often and when i did i was a very
quiet kid because if the teacher would have asked me a question i was afraid to answer even if i
knew the answer because i felt different from other kids i felt everybody was just a little
bit better than me and everybody knew that the old man was drunk and i was ashamed and i was
all mixed up so when a teacher used to say to me why didn't you do your homework i used to say i
don't know and then pretty soon i didn't say i don't know i just didn't answer so he gave me the
name of surly nasty and my father used to say what's wrong with you why don't you be like your
brothers stand up don't be afraid
and i couldn't tell him that he was the one i was afraid of because when he was coming over
drunk he was just as apologetic as everyone else was and he always promised that it never would
happen again and i used to live in hope and dying fear because inevitably he got drunk again and i
was living in a dream world well pretty soon the love that i should have had for my parents
diminished and i used to go to church
regularly as a kid i was taught by nuns and christian brothers
what little i did go i never graduated from a school because alcohol caught up with me first
but i would like to point out to you that the time that i spent as a kid
my fuse was lit my fuse was lit when i picked up my first drink but the time before this
the distortion of the alcoholic had already set in because i didn't enjoy going to church
i used to go to churches and light candles and like every other kid i used to light candles
or maybe some kid want a bicycle i didn't want a bicycle i wanted a truck to run over the old man
and it didn't happen so i used to look up and i'd say what the hell do you use to go to church
and then it came around and they said now if you don't stop saying that you're too drunk i'm not going to go to church
home from school, that we're going to put your father in jail. And I said, fine. So
I stayed home from school. But they didn't put him in jail, and I was bitterly disappointed.
I was disappointed all my life. And then something happened at the age of 12 that makes me know
today. Of course, I didn't know then, but I know today what it was. My brother and I
went into the bedroom. We were chased into the bedroom because the old man was doping
out the ponies. Now, I don't know whether you know what doping out the ponies is. I
guess they have race tracks over here, don't they? Well, anyway, he was sitting in the
kitchen figuring out the scratch sheet. He wanted to find out which horse was going to
lose his $2 for that day. So my mother said to me, take your brother and get in the bedroom
and kill him. And I said, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to kill you. I'm going
to kill you. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you. I'm going
to kill you. You see, everybody always told me keep quiet. Shut up. Sit down. Keep your
mouth shut. Don't say anything. And I was boiled up inside. So I went into the bedroom
and I told her in a very fresh manner, I said, what do we have to go into the bedroom for?
Why do we have to be quiet? Why can't we be like other people? She said, because he's
figuring out the horses and you know what's going to happen. And if he gets drunk tonight,
there's going to be trouble.
I knew this too well. And I said, well, if we don't bother him and he wins, he's going to get drunk.
And if we do bother him and he loses, he's going to get drunk anyway.
So win or lose, he's going to get drunk.
So she said, shut your mouth and get in the bedroom. So I shut my mouth and I got in the bedroom.
And my brother was a nosy little kid. And he's still a nosy little kid.
Only he was rooting around in the bedroom there. It was raining out and we couldn't go out.
And he'd come up with a gallon of wine. And he said, hey, Jack, let's have a drink.
I said, sure, why not? And my brother took a drink of wine and gave me the same bottle.
And I took what I thought was a drink of wine. But it wasn't.
To me, it was bottled courage. And the first drink I had separated me from my brother right there.
Because when that thing went down and hit my toes and curled them up, I said, my God,
no one's going to get me. And I said, no one's going to get me.
And I said, no one's going to get me. And I said, no one's going to get me.
And I said, no one's going to get me. And I said, no one's going to get me.
No wonder the old man is always drunk.
What a wonderful thing.
If God made anything better than that, he kept it for himself.
And when my brother come along, he said, Jack, let's have another one.
I said, by all means, let's do.
So we had two.
And then I said to my brother, let's have another one. He said, no.
He said, you're going to get sick. It's too sweet.
And I said, this stuff came out of my mouth.
It's going to make you sick.
This is the nectar of the gods.
And I kept sipping on that thing all afternoon because I was not drinking wine.
I was drinking a chemical, alcohol.
And that alcohol was taking a place in my system,
what was missing chemically because of the chemical imbalance.
But I didn't know, as I know today,
that while this thing, chemical of alcohol,
does replace momentarily what's missing,
that when the alcohol is absorbed,
it produces twice as much of a loss.
So we need two drinks to take the place of one,
and then we need four to take the place of two.
And then we need eight to take the place of the four.
And so on it goes.
This is the disease of alcoholism
accepted by the American medical system,
the Toronto Medical Association,
the Toronto Medical Association,
and the World Health Organization.
If it's good enough for those smart people,
it's good enough for me.
Because I know that this is what happened to me.
I only wanted in this world one thing.
I wanted to live with my mother in a little house in Jersey.
That's all I wanted.
I said, someday, Ma, when I get big,
I'm going to have kids,
and you and me are going to go on a trip,
and we're going to go on a trip,
and we're going to go on a trip,
and we're going to go on a trip, and we're going to go on a trip.
I'm going to Jersey, I'm going to buy a little house,
and we're going to live there.
And she said, yeah, okay, Jack.
And that's all I had in my mind.
No violence, no nothing.
Until
I picked up that drink.
So at the age of 12,
I found out
that I could be like other people
if I had a drink.
So from that moment on,
I was never without a drink.
Whether it be beer, wine,
alcohol,
any shape or form,
I had to have it.
And then a strange thing happened.
All the hate that I had built up over the years
as a kid
started to manifest itself.
And now I was belligerent.
And I would tell my father,
drop dead for yourself.
I wouldn't go in the corner
and shut my mouth no more.
I was 10 foot tall.
I was looking for trouble.
And all these people,
all these normal people,
making little of me,
I would fix them.
Well, I fixed them.
I fixed them good.
Because I drank.
And the more I drank,
I started to get into trouble.
And the more trouble I got in,
the more I figured,
well, this guy up there
is really giving me a bad shake.
And I became a very vicious,
nasty character.
Well, I was now 15.
I was driving a car
in Greenwich Village in New York
on the west side.
At the age of 16,
my mother, who I adored
and always wanted to be near,
came home and found me
threatening my father with a .38.
They found a load of money
on a table that was stolen
and a bottle of whiskey
and me drunk.
And she threw me out of the house.
She said, take your money
and your whiskey, your gun
and get the hell out of here.
You're not one of us.
You're some kind of an animal.
Now I was really hurt.
I took out on my own at 16
and I wound up in a lot of trouble.
I wound up
in a great deal of trouble.
I have had more trouble
than enough for six people.
I have done everything in this world
that a human being could do
and still live.
And I'm only living
but for the grace of God.
Because I was an animal
through alcohol.
I couldn't put it down.
And every morning when I got up
I was nothing.
I was scared stiff
and I had to run for the battle
to get me some more courage to operate.
And the minute I got it
I operated good.
I forgot about the pain of the night before.
And the world was my oyster.
To hell with everybody
and hooray for me.
Church, I laughed at it.
I cursed the higher power.
I cursed my mother for bearing me.
I cursed everybody
that I came in contact with
because I thought I was getting a dirty deal.
My other six
members of the family
were living life
working well
and I was the outcast.
I couldn't see anyone.
I couldn't go near anyone
because I was always hot.
I was a pretty stupid fellow.
We have only one requisition
requisite in our group.
You must be stupid.
When you come into our group
you have to be stupid.
And we tell you right to your face.
Get stupid.
Sit down and shut up and get stupid.
Take the cotton out of your ears
and stuff it in your fat mouth.
And you know
this works very well
but some people get a little perturbed
to say the least.
And we tell
them go out and get drunk
and come back if you're lucky.
Because we know we got a closed corporation.
There ain't no other place to go.
And the smart ones are on the outside
knocking their brains out.
And we stupid ones sit up there
and we look at each other
and we have a good time.
We enjoy ourselves.
Really we do.
But you see it wasn't always like this.
I was the smart guy.
Let me tell you how smart I was.
They thought I was a pretty clever boy
shaking down the Greeks
on the West Side.
I don't have to be worried about here
because I was never in Cleveland.
I hope.
I can't guarantee it
but I don't think so.
Anyway it's a long time.
But down the West Side in New York
when they used to see me coming
everybody left.
Because I was bad news.
And I had to shake down the poor Greeks up there
and I was doing pretty good.
And I thought it was a wonderful sport.
I mean I enjoyed this tremendously.
Work?
That was for horses and fools.
And I didn't look like either.
So I used to walk into a bar
and ask for a beer
and I'd give the man a buck
and when he went to get my change
he'd come back.
I used to show him what the wrong end
of a 38 looked like.
See and I'd say hey buddy
you made a little mistake.
I gave you a hundred dollar bill.
Yeah I guess you did.
And I used to think that this
was a wonderful life.
And if you made about six or seven
stares like this a night
you're doing pretty good.
So you can be a big shot down the corner.
You go around, close the door and drink.
You pay, everybody drinks.
Real big deal.
But let me tell you something.
I got so stupid
that I was setting up crap games
for the mafia there in New York
and I was setting up
card games and crap games
and a couple of times I went back
and stuck up the same games
I had started.
So...
It was not bad enough
the cops were chasing me
the robbers were chasing me too.
So...
I figured I better get the hell out of here.
So I went to Washington
and I got in trouble.
I went to Norfolk, Virginia
and I got in trouble.
I went to Florida
and I got in trouble.
So I went up north to Massachusetts
and I got in trouble.
I went to Maine and I got in trouble.
So I figured what the hell
I might as well go overseas.
And down on a tanker
and I started to sail
around the world.
Well I had a ball.
I think
I went to every country that you could possibly
take a ship into.
I've been there.
And I always thought the same thing.
The inside of the jail
or the inside of the hospital
once.
That's all I've ever seen.
I'm a very widely traveled person.
I've been to Egypt
eight different times.
Eight different times
in Egypt.
And you know I have an affinity
for pyramids
and mummies
and those sort of things.
I love archaeology.
And every time I went to Egypt
I'd say now Jack
get a hold of yourself there boy.
Get over there and see the pyramids.
It's always been what you wanted to do.
And I'd say okay Jack.
I'm going to talk to myself because
you know nobody else would talk to me.
This last time I went there
to see the pyramids
I ended up in disaster every time.
But this last time I said
I got it made.
I'm going to do it this time
if it kills me.
So I went into a bar in Cairo
and I had a few drinks.
Now my pattern was this.
I never wanted to get drunk.
I just wanted to take two drinks
and say thank you bartender
and walk out.
And I used to go there
prepared to do that
and I used to fight for it.
And then when the second one went down
or after the first one went down
I knew that I was like my father
and I said it can't be.
I can't live like this.
I got to take two drinks
to prove I'm a man.
So this time I went there
full of determination
into the bar in Cairo
and had my two drinks
same thing happened.
I said you're not going to leave here.
You're not going to see the pyramids.
I said you're a suck.
You're just like your father.
And I didn't like it a bit.
Only this time I had ace up my sleeve.
I said to a soldier,
American soldier that was standing next to me
I said hey buddy
you got a vehicle outside the door?
He said yeah I got a jeep.
I said good I'll buy it from you.
How about that? And he said okay.
I don't know where he came from
but I'm going to meet him some day.
I got to.
He's going to be in AA
because he sold me a United States Army jeep.
So I threw a case of booze in the back
and I started out across the desert
and it's only 70 miles to Alexandria.
And there's 3,000 square miles of desert
me and a jeep
and one camel
and I had to hit the camel.
Right in the belly.
Right in the belly.
The poor Arab
that was on his back
went over the high rising just like that.
He's still running.
They come out for me and the jeep and the camel
and I was the only one that went to jail
down in the dungeon.
That was the last time I went to see the pyramids.
Now I understand the Russians
are flooding the valley over there
so I don't think I'll ever get to see them.
But I've seen a lot of other things.
I've seen tremendous amounts of things.
All bad.
All nasty.
Because after these things happen to you
you go back and you nurse your wounds
and you say how did it happen?
And you start to rationalize everything.
If I hadn't done this
and if I hadn't done that
this wouldn't have happened
and now I know what to do next time.
So you try again
and endlessly on and on.
Just to make a long story
short
I wound up
in a hospital ship.
The war started somewhere
along the line.
I didn't remember when it started
or when we got into it
until one day I was in the Irish Sea
and suddenly I was swimming
and I don't swim.
And I asked
the guy what the hell is going on?
And he said
there's a war on.
And I said oh.
Oh.
Now things were getting a little serious.
Well I said
somebody ought to tell me about it anyway.
Well there was
one door on that ship
it was a cooked door on a galley
it was made out of wood
the rest of them were steel.
Only six men got off that one.
And I landed with that door.
And I don't swim
a stroke to this minute.
Well I think that
this for me was the beginning
of the miracle.
I was not supposed to die.
Some years later
I was in Marseilles
and I
suddenly couldn't drink myself
drunk anymore.
I was doing everything except
pouring my ears.
And I couldn't get drunk.
And the fears that came over me
were terrific.
The world was practically over
we had gone into Normandy
into Sicily.
I was in all those evasions
because I was not a hero believe me.
The only reason that I stayed on these
tankers so long
was that nobody bothered me.
My wife didn't know what I was.
And people used to say
gee look at him he's going out on a tanker.
I'm one of the men in the moon.
But it was the only place
that I could take my booze
and no one would criticize me.
No one would say you drink too much.
They were just glad to have me down
in the engine room.
Because you've got to admit
that nobody but an idiot
would be down in the engine room
of a ship loaded with 125,000
barrels of high octane gas.
And I sailed those things
and it didn't bother me
as long as I had a drink.
They said to me
you tanker stuff?
I said yes.
Why do you stay there?
Well I like it.
No you don't like it.
I was drunk
and I had to stay drunk to live.
And that's the only type
of a place that I could live.
And this time in Marseilles
now the magic medicine
wasn't working.
And it was 5,000 prisoners of war
on the dock waiting for transportation back.
I was getting sober by the minute.
And I said if only I could get a hold of
two of them guys.
Just two or three.
We'll all go out together in a big splash.
And then an air raid started
and I went into the cage with them.
Now these were German SS elite troops.
That they had picked up
hardcore Nazis.
And I told the soldier
I said open the gate I'm going in there
or you'll get killed.
The black guy said don't worry about me
worry about them.
I took two of them by the throat
and another one on the floor
I had my heel on his throat
and I was doing pretty good.
I was doing real handy.
I had their tongues out anyway.
And some of them got behind me
and the lights went out.
Fourteen days later I woke up
I was on a hospital ship coming into New York.
And I asked the doctor what happened.
And he said I don't know kid
I just got you as a passenger.
We're going to dump you off in New York
and you're going to be in the hospital.
I had a broken leg, a broken arm
thirteen broken ribs
double broken jaw, fractured skull
and my nose was all over my face.
And this is the sight that came home to my wife.
And she said what happened?
I said don't talk about it.
It's people like you that lose ships.
She assumed to this minute I imagined
that I was torpedoed again.
I wasn't torpedoed
that was booze.
Put me in the hospital and I was thrown out
in 23 days for drinking too much.
I used to hobble out on crutches
down to the bar in the corner
and drink.
Come back and bring a bottle with me
I had the doctors and nurses drunk one night.
This is the way alcohol took me.
Now I was home
and she said to me one night
she said you know something
you're not a hero.
I said no what am I honey?
She said you're a drunken bum.
You're an alcoholic.
But I wanted to
shove her out through the window.
I wanted to kill her.
Because here again I was
my father.
Don't you call me an alcoholic.
It's alright to call me crazy
don't call me an alcoholic.
So I chased her around the house with a butcher knife
and she got out
and sent back two cops.
Well this was my first trouble with cops
locally.
It wasn't the last.
Because I said to them get the hell out of the house.
And they said to me
you come with us.
I said you make me. So they did.
They weren't at all gentle.
Not at all.
When I got through with them
I didn't go to jail that night.
I went to Kings County Hospital
in a straitjacket.
Because I wanted to kill a cop.
So I was a cop fighter.
I wound up then
with three more fractured skulls.
I had my jaws broken about eight different
times more.
I had my nose broken so often
the last time I went to the doctor
he said you know something Jack
it looks pretty good why don't we leave it that way.
Then I just leave my mouth open
and everything is fine.
It looks fine.
And then there came a day
that I could count
eight different trips
to Kings County Hospital in a straitjacket.
And two different trips
to Bellevue Hospital in a straitjacket.
All time for the same thing.
I didn't want
to be an alcoholic.
I was going to fight anyone
that called me an alcoholic.
Priests came to me and begged me
please don't drink so much.
Drink just a little bit.
And I used to say
get out of here you crump.
Take yourself a walk.
Who the hell are you talking to?
Me?
Do you know what's bothering me?
Can you tell me what's bothering me?
He said of course not.
I said well then get lost.
And go save somebody that needs saving
don't worry about me.
I can take care of myself.
I chased priests
because they didn't know what they were talking about.
And they never helped
me in my life.
And I chased psychiatrists
and I chased psychologists.
I runned them all.
Because no one knew
when they asked me to stop drinking
that they were taking away
my very breath.
I couldn't live without it.
And for a person to come to me and say
stop drinking was telling me
stop breathing.
I said what are you all crazy or what?
Are you all stupid?
Don't you see the condition I'm in?
And you begrudge me a drink?
And my wife said you're going to
kill yourself. I said good.
Better than to live with you.
Better than to live
with anyone.
Why don't you just leave me alone?
I was so full of hate
and venom because now I couldn't even
borrow a gun.
And I couldn't get a job. I couldn't do nothing.
And everybody was on my
back.
The doctors, the priests.
And then finally one night she said to me
come on with me.
I said I can't go nowhere. I need a drink.
She said I'll give you a drink if you come with me.
I got two drinks to get
on a subway. And I almost
died. And then I got two drinks
to get off a subway. And I said
where the hell are we going?
She said never mind. Come on.
So I went. And I went into
an AA meeting. And I sat in the back.
And I said what kind
of a journey is this?
They look like a bunch of nuts.
And she said shut up and listen.
So I listened.
And it was some jackass up here
like I am tonight.
And you know what he said?
Here I am. She said this is the answer
to all your prayers.
It's that I don't pray. You pray.
She said this is the answer.
This is what you need.
AA. I said so?
Tell me something. And this guy
told me. You know what he told me?
Don't take the first drink
and you won't get drunk.
Yes.
And I sat.
And I was shocked.
I said what did he say?
What is he?
A comedian?
That's the funny part, right?
Who is he talking to?
I'll kill him if I get close enough to him.
Don't take the first drink.
How the hell can you get drunk?
I had the
answer but I didn't want it.
So I beat the cops out of there
by about two minutes.
I wrecked the joint.
I said you dirty crumb
all the way from Brooklyn to New York
to listen to this jerk?
Here I am taking
ships across the ocean.
Me in the engine room.
Of course I didn't know where I was but I took them across.
I was a big deal.
And this bum said
don't take the first drink and you won't get drunk.
I'll kill him.
So I went out.
That's what I thought he said.
Up until this point
in my life I had no trouble.
It wasn't trouble
to me.
When the cops bagged me, okay
you win.
No fight.
But they caught me for a legit bit.
But when I get out
then it's my turn. Then we play again.
Cops and robbers, right?
And if I caught them it was their turn.
So I was well prepared
to pay at any time.
And I didn't mind the arrest.
It didn't bother me.
Because I figured
this was the way of life.
And then I came to a point
where I did have trouble.
What I consider trouble.
So I would like at this point
to point out to anyone that might be here
new, but don't wait
until you have done
what I did.
Not necessary at all.
Because what you consider trouble
may not be trouble for me.
And what I consider trouble
may not be trouble for you.
So you take your inventory.
I'll take mine.
All this garbage up until now
was not trouble.
My trouble came when I was taken out of
Kings County Hospital once.
The last time.
And I was taken
instead of being turned loose
I was picked up by two dicks.
And they had a stop order on me
and they took me down before a judge.
And my wife was there
and there was a cop
and then my two children.
And I stood there
and I was very sassy.
And the judge said to me
how do you feel Jackass?
I feel fine.
I feel wonderful.
And you know something?
I was a big fat liar.
Because in my stomach
I had ice water.
I was scared stiff.
That was my business.
Don't nobody look behind
my alcoholic wall.
Take a look over here.
You see I do magic.
I feel one way
but I make you think I feel this way.
And nobody knows the difference.
They look over here
and I die over here.
And I died that morning.
But I wasn't about to ask for anybody's
forgiveness
or help or anything else.
I'm an alcoholic.
Remember?
I have a very insidious disease.
So I stood there
and the judge said to me
how do you feel Jack?
He called me by my first name.
He knew me well.
I have a record of arrests
that total over 125.
Over 125.
I got tired counting
when my wife said
what the hell is the difference?
That's enough to get you into AA.
Let's quit and go to bed.
He told me to take my inventory.
125 arrests.
And you know something?
About 3 quarters of them
I was glad to get in.
I was glad to get in
to get off the street
because then I felt a little security
when that thing went bang behind me.
But this time I was standing
and I was scared.
And he said to me
I have a little news for you Jack.
I said you generally do.
The time is a little different.
He said we've had an extensive report on you
from three doctors.
And I said
them of the guys up there with the white coats
that make me put the little round blocks
in the little square holes?
And he said yeah the same ones.
I said well they're crazy anyway.
So I said I don't much be interested
in what they have to say.
So he said but we are.
And he said you better listen.
So I said listen I will
because you generally have the last words.
And when he started talking
I turned around to see who he was talking about.
And I asked him
I said who are you talking about?
He said you.
I said that's not me.
And it wasn't me actually.
It wasn't the me before 12 years of age
before I picked up my first drink.
This was not the kid that wanted to go
and live in Jersey with his mother.
It was nothing like this.
My mother had died.
And she never saw me sober.
She saw me with head like this.
Headlines in the paper.
Cops coming in the middle of the night
pulling me out of bed.
And me hiding under the bed full of blood.
And her telling cops I wasn't home.
Hadn't gotten in yet.
And then me going out the window.
This is all my mother ever knew of me.
She had died
and I was up before the judge.
And he said this is what the doctor
say about you kid.
He said that you're a homicidal maniac.
That you might
wipe your family out overnight and not know
if you did it.
And it said also
that it was physically impossible
for me to tell right from wrong.
And it also
said that I wouldn't live five years.
And if I did live five years
that the last part of the five years
would be in a mental institution with a wet brain.
And it said I was positively incapable
of ever doing another day's work in my life.
And I said who you talking about?
He said you.
And I couldn't believe that.
And now when I think back
I can believe it.
Because I remember the day I went into a bar
and a guy accidentally hit me.
He accidentally hit me
one hit someone else and I fell off the stool.
I wasn't hurt.
But I was so mad
that this guy would do this to me
that I come up with a steel bar stool.
And to this minute
I can hear his head when it crunched.
And I was three weeks
in the tombs waiting to see whether he lived
or died.
And the pitiful part is that the judge was right.
I just didn't give a damn.
He hit me first
and whatever I did was alright.
So I stood there in court that day
and I said well what do you want me to do?
He said well we're not going to lock you up
no more.
It doesn't do you any good.
He said but I want you to do one thing
and get out of Brooklyn.
I said don't come back to Brooklyn.
I was mortified.
Who the hell ever got thrown out of Brooklyn?
He said anybody can go there.
He said but not you.
And I was lost.
So he put me on a subway
and my wife went home with my two kids.
And about two and a half weeks
three weeks later
I was down in Bowery in New York.
And I lived down in Bowery in New York
for the next two weeks.
And I was there for about
a month and a half
and I was there for about
a month and a half
and I was there for about
a month and a half years.
Now if anybody here wants to know
what the Bowery in New York was like
I'll tell you all about it.
Not now.
But after the meeting.
It's a filthy, lousy, stinking hole.
And this was where I found
my trouble.
Because I was doing things now
that I didn't want to do.
I was laying on a sidewalk
and I would have cops kicking me
in the ribs and telling me hey bum
get up.
And I used to say
if only Christ would give me the strength
just for five minutes
so I could get up and take this
fat cop with me
I'd be glad to go.
And then there were times
that I had to puke
and I couldn't roll over.
And there were times that I was
so lousy and filthy and dirty
that I could smell myself
before I could see myself.
And this is what the Bowery
in New York was like.
And I've done just about everything
in my life.
I've hurt a lot of people
and I'm not proud of it.
And I lay on the Bowery there
and everything went back to my mind
and it was one thing
thank Christ
I couldn't be wiped out.
And that was the pictures
of what might have been.
See?
And every time I came through
in the morning or in the night
where it happened to be
little pictures in the back of my mind
the last remaining segment
of my sanity
used to be pictures of my wife and kids.
And I used to lay there
and I used to have to run
as quick as I could
and get about.
I had to drink.
I had to bury the pictures.
I wanted them to go out completely
so it wouldn't haunt me
but they didn't.
They stayed with me
because one day
I had hemorrhages of the stomach
and it's not important
but I drank
everything that came with alcohol.
There were 62 men
died not too long ago on the Bowery
or 61 men
and one woman.
And I drank
many and many a gallon
of what they died from.
And I drank
wood alcohol
I drank steno
I drank witch hay
I drank anything at all
that would blot out the pictures.
So this is the filth
and the degradation that I know.
And while we're on the subject
let me say one more.
There were 61 men
and one woman
and one of the men
was a Catholic priest.
So if you think you're sitting out there
a real smug and contented
and say that these things
can't happen to me
because I said the same thing.
These things always
happen to the other guy.
But now I was in it.
I was there.
And it's a long, long way back, believe me.
For I had hemorrhages of the stomach
and I damn near died.
Now up until this point
I was a very nasty individual.
No love of God
I hated everybody.
But when my brothers
wouldn't come
and my wife wouldn't spit on my hair
I was on fire.
And if my sisters wouldn't come near me
they were ashamed of me.
And nobody would tell me
where my father lived.
And no self-respecting cop
would even club me anymore.
That's a pretty miserable way to live.
And when everything was gone
and I was about
dead with hemorrhages
my wife asked me
she said
would you like to try AA again
and I said yeah.
I would love to.
And I had a beard
down to here
I was full of blood and throat
I had two shirts
two pants
a pair of shoes
no underwear
and no socks.
And she said
I asked for a doctor
and she said no.
I'll give you a razor blade
you can cut your throat. But no doctor.
Would you like to try AA again?
Big shot.
Now this is the point in my story
that my second life begins.
You must listen closely
to try
and understand me
because I'm stupid.
And you may be one of these smart people
I'm stupid
and I'm simple.
But I know one thing
that this is a God
given God inspired program.
I call on my friend upstairs
now
but remember the condition that I was in
cursing everyone around me
and then I needed help.
So I have it figured
thusly
that the man upstairs sits there
and he waits for we alcoholics
to our sponsors
to get the dangle of AA
that he dangles in front of us
to our sponsors.
And when he saw me
on my hands and feet
on my knees
hanging in the toilet bowl
bleeding like a stuck pig
he must have been quite happy.
He must have said this guy is getting ready.
Because
it was the first time in my life
when I saw myself
literally running down a sewer
that I said to myself
Jack
maybe you are having a little trouble
with alcohol.
Yeah.
Because I couldn't find nothing else to blame.
And he must have said
good.
Then my wife came and asked me
about AA
and I believe it was
them pulling the wires
because why let my education
go to waste?
Well this bum had a lot of trouble
we need him.
We'll give him one more rat.
So I had my one more rat
and he said
we better teach him good.
He's an arrogant bum.
I used to go around in bars and fight
about being an Irish Catholic, right?
I never went to church.
But I was an Irish Catholic.
And if you were anything else
you were here for me to stick up.
That was it.
Minority groups
get out of my way.
Steamroller over them.
I hated everybody.
But Irish Catholics
at least I give you car fare.
Back.
Well the man upstairs
teaches us lessons good.
In my case he had to work fast.
Because I wasn't long for this world.
But my wife called AA.
I come out of a bathroom
on my hands and knees.
Filthy, dirty, lovingly wrecked.
Half crazy with fear.
Didn't even know my own name.
Couldn't talk because
I had an infected mouth.
And then AA came.
And who do you think came?
Pat Kelly?
My friend upstairs
had a very funny sense of humor.
My sponsor's name is Sam Cohen.
Yeah.
Yeah.
And his wife's name is Ida.
And she was with him.
And you know something?
I cried.
I said to myself,
Jack, you are a dirty, rotten bum.
You have never done anything
in your life that was right.
You have been wrong
since the minute you were born.
And I realized
all of a sudden
all the rotten, despicable things
that I had done.
And I thought of how
I had abused so many people.
And all of a sudden
I said to myself,
if only I could get sober
just long enough
to make amends
so that when I die
people will say, well, he wasn't much
but at least he died sober.
What length of time
this entailed, I didn't know.
In fact, I couldn't tell you
from night, night, from day.
But these two gentle people came
and they picked me up.
And I was only deathly afraid
that they would say, gee, lady,
it's too bad you didn't call us
a couple of months ago.
I thought that they would turn around
and walk out when they thought
of the condition I was in.
But they didn't.
They said, come on, kid.
We'll take care of you.
And they did.
They picked me up as dirty as I was
and they put me to an AA meeting.
When I got to the meeting
they didn't sit me on a chair.
I heard one of them say
don't sit him on a chair
he might fall off
and hurt himself.
So they sat me on a little ledge
that ran around the room
that covered the water pipes
or the steam pipes.
It was the Hotel St. George
in Brooklyn.
And it was by then, by far
the most elaborate meeting
in Brooklyn or New York area.
And everybody there
welcomed me.
Nobody chased me.
I didn't shave. I couldn't.
And when the meeting was over
I didn't hear nothing.
These two people said to me,
come on, Jack, we'll take you home.
And a guy come up to me
and he poked a buck in my pocket
and he said, kid, do me a favor.
He said, go down the bar for Christ's sake
and get yourself a drink
before you drop dead.
I said, huh?
I had a dollar's weight of rye whiskey
in a water glass.
The bartender looked daggers at me
but my sponsor thought
don't worry about it, we'll take him out.
And that's the last drink I had.
Because that night I made a decision.
I made a decision that I was wrong
and these people were right
and I wanted what they had.
And that was 16 years ago.
So I've had 16 years
of my second life.
Too late.
Two lives.
One complete miracle.
It was almost a year
before I could talk.
It was almost a year
before I could see.
I'm still blind in one eye.
I still can't hear out of one ear.
And I have a hell of a time sometimes.
But I tell you something.
I'm so full of gratitude
to AA
and to the higher power
that there's
just no, nothing else
in this world for me but AA.
And to come to these meetings
is a privilege.
It's a privilege.
My first year in AA
people used to come by
that knew me
and they used to leave a cup of black coffee on the table
where I was sitting in the back of the room.
And in their kindness
they used to walk away.
Because I couldn't pick it up.
And I used to have to stoop down
to it with my mouth like an animal
drinking.
And it's the first time
that anyone in the world
ever said to me
don't worry about it kid.
We know how you feel.
And they didn't tell me
not to drink.
They didn't tell me
that I shouldn't drink.
They didn't tell me
that I was going to die in hell.
Or they didn't tell me
I was going to go to a nut house.
They didn't tell me nothing.
They said you come with us.
And we'll show you how.
And we'll tell you why you can't drink.
Not that you shouldn't.
You can.
So I hung on to the Fadil life
because here is what
I had fished for
all my life in the bottom of the bottle.
Understanding.
And I got it.
And suddenly I realized
I was sober a year.
And then it became two years.
Then I came home one night
and my wife said
are you still sober bum?
And I said
yeah.
We weren't living like man and wife.
My kids still weren't allowed near me.
I was just a
boarder and I was very grateful
to be there.
If the kids come to me for anything
she said come away from that man
he's crazy he might kill you.
And didn't those people in AA
ever find out about you yet?
Don't they know what you are?
I said yeah they did.
They know what I am.
But they like me.
And she said they must all
be crazy.
And I said well why don't you come along
and find out.
For on her own she started to go
to AA meetings.
And she learned more about AA.
Now my wife was of a different
religion than I was.
And five years after
I came into AA
she went up to church
to where I was.
She was converted.
And we were married in a church.
And my kids were baptized.
All my big problems
now were diminishing.
And all I was doing
was staying away for one drink
for one day.
My jobs got better.
You have to save money.
And then a wonderful event
happened to me.
I have a 10 year old boy now.
And he is a smart little boy.
He's like me.
He's a genius.
Believe me.
He certainly can't
take after my wife.
I got to get a break somewhere.
Now think of the beauty
of the AA program in my life.
I was deprived
of my first two children.
So my friend upstairs
sent me another one.
And me and him are growing up together.
He's 10 and I'm 16.
And we have our wonderful time.
We watch the shooting
of the game up.
We watch Mickey Mouse.
And we watch the Flintstones.
And we go fishing.
Only we don't go fishing.
We go out and drown worms.
I have never thought of that.
But we're happy.
And my kid knows more
about AA
than a lot of people
sitting in this room.
And it's been my privilege
to be connected
with a lot of nice people.
When I was
in AA a little while,
I began to think,
well, I came into a meeting one night
and there was somebody who said,
there's a cop here.
And I said, where is he? I'll kill him.
And he told me, Jack,
we don't do it that way no more.
And I said, oh.
And I said,
just keep the bum away from me
because I hate them.
And then you know something?
I soon learned
that we were in AA
because we were alcoholics,
not because we were cops or robbers.
So now we have up there
what we call
the cops and robbers group.
17 cops
and 17 robbers.
And I'm in the middle.
I keep them separated.
Sometimes we get a cop that is a robber,
but we have to put him back with the cops
because...
And we can't get more of one
than the other because they get nasty.
Their ego swells up.
And we have two priests
in our group.
And we have an Irish Christian brother.
And we got a marriage brother
who's the principal of a high school.
Yeah.
And we have a Christian brother.
And we have a police lieutenant.
And can you imagine this guy
six foot six?
A lieutenant in the police department.
And when he walked in the door
I said, hello.
He said, hello, I'm a lieutenant.
I said, sit down, you're a bum.
Well that went up like a lead balloon
with him.
But he sat down.
And every time he opened his mouth
I said, shut up and get stupid.
And he got stupid.
He got good and stupid.
And he's so stupid
that he's the best man in Mount Vernon
police department now.
And the two priests.
Hey,
we don't care what you are.
Take your collar off,
hang up your coat and shut up.
You don't know nothing.
But I'm a...
Sit down, you're a bum.
Sit down and listen and learn.
Because this program
doesn't care who you are.
It will bury you.
And thank God they listen.
So now I'm connected with the Christian brothers
in a kind of an offhanded manner.
I'm working on a couple
of other orders too.
They thought they had a license
to drink.
No.
But what I would really like to say to you
is that I work for Lincoln Hall.
Which is a boys
institution.
It's just one grade
before prison.
These kids range in age
from 11 to 17.
85% of them are alcoholics.
95% of them have
fathers and mothers who are alcoholics.
So if there's
anybody sitting over here
that tells me,
well I don't know nobody, nothing.
I only drank and I hurt myself.
I say you're a damn liar.
Because I can
prove it to you.
285 kids.
And when they get out, they're mine.
They belong to me.
And I gotta guide them back
to where they came from.
And sometimes, the
home is so bad
with booze
that we turn the kids loose
but we don't let them go home.
We put them in foster homes.
And these people still
insist that they
don't have any trouble with alcohol.
So this is now my
work. This is where
I live. This is where I hope to die
helping these kids.
We have a regular AA meeting up there on a
Sunday that runs for hours.
And we have about 85
children and about 60 adults
from the outside.
Everybody the same. All alcoholics.
So
this program works
for anyone.
Your trouble is booze, it works for you.
These kids printed
up these things for us.
And we brought them down here
for you tonight.
I would read it to you, but it's too
damn long.
So you take one home and read it
yourself. What the hell do I look like?
It's too much. It's hot.
I would like to tell you this.
There is another little piece
here the kids also printed.
It says,
Leave the path to the mercy of God,
the present
to his love, and the
future to his providence.
This is the way I live.
These are gifts from the
kids to you.
In the hope that you
will help them and they will help you.
I could think
I've been here all night and I don't intend
to.
I don't feel too
very good tonight.
But I can't leave ever
without drawing you just
one little picture.
All my garbage.
I have never
been to school.
I don't know
much about anything.
I don't know about stocks in barns.
I don't know
anything about anything.
I do know about booze.
I damn near died for it.
I died
a thousand times and
I died for booze.
I know where it can take you.
And I say this to you.
You don't have to go.
You can quit anywhere along the line
where you heard me reach a point
because I was at that
point too. I continue
to drink. But I look at it
this way. The man upstairs
needed some of us to be
honorable examples of something
I don't know.
So my past
has been given to me
as a diploma.
And this is my knowledge.
And this is my school.
And I put it to good use.
So don't nobody
be offended at anything
I might say. Because I
don't know no better.
All I know is one thing.
Don't try to imitate me.
It's not necessary.
Because A.A.
now is working so well.
The people coming in don't
need to go down to the Bowery.
They don't have to find out what the
inside of a jail looks like.
It's all unnecessary.
We have kids that are in A.A. up
there sixteen years of age.
Believe it or not. Sixteen years
of age. We have one particular
kid that was at his
anniversary in New York
who went home from Lincoln Hall
and brought his mother into A.A.
and between the two of them
they went out and brought the father in.
And the night Bob was at the anniversary
there, they were all three
celebrating their first anniversary
together. And this is the power
of the program of A.A.
God given, God
inspired program.
I am not overly religious.
But I have to look somewhere
to put my gratitude.
I have a wonderful ten year old boy.
The boy without a
doubt is a genius.
He is a genius.
We sent him this summer
or last summer
to Iona College to take
an advanced course in
English Literature.
He was then nine and a half.
This kid has a mind
that is fantastic.
And this is what was given to me
by the man upstairs.
So I go home at night
and I say to my friend, I say
hey cousin,
I'm pretty tired.
I've got a lot of problems.
So I wrap them all up in a bundle
and I say here, catch them.
I'll hold them until I get up in the morning.
And you're going to be up all night anyway.
And sometimes you know
it becomes unbearable.
So I pull off
the side of the road somewhere
and maybe my head is pounding
like no one knows
and maybe I can't see.
So I pull off the road
and I say hey cousin,
why don't you just get off my back
for a little while.
And get on somebody else's.
Let me breathe.
And I always breathe.
And this is the way I have a close relationship
with the man upstairs.
He is forever sitting on my shoulder
or whispering in my ear.
I can't hear nothing in his ear
except what he says.
Because that's my conscience.
And when the phone rings, I have to go.
Because I know that I was left
on this earth for one thing.
To carry the message
to a sick alcoholic.
And this is why I almost died.
And this is why I'm in AA.
And this is why I have been blessed
with such wonderful good fortune and good luck.
To carry the message
to other alcoholics.
And if I don't,
he is liable to look down and say
come on Jack, you're tired, come on up.
I don't want to go.
I enjoy it.
Now let me tell you about my little friend.
He said to me the other day,
he's a very comical little lad.
He said to me today,
the other day,
do you know, I want to ask you a riddle, Pop.
I said, okay, ask me a riddle.
He said, well, you know the new Met Stadium?
I said, yeah.
He said two girls went over there.
And they drank a bottle of whiskey
while a ball game was going on.
And they finished it.
And he said, now you tell me,
why did you bother?
And what was the condition of the game on the field?
I said, how the hell do I know?
He said, well, it's very easy.
It was the end of the fifth
and the two bags were loaded.
Another day he said to me,
Pop,
do you know what mixed emotions are?
I said, no, John, what's mixed emotions?
He said, well,
if you were to see your mother-in-law
going off a 200-foot cliff,
but she was sitting in your brand new Cadillac,
you would have mixed emotions.
Well, I do have mixed emotions.
I have mixed emotions about those
three poor doctors.
They condemned me to death
20 years ago or more.
They figured without
this guy upstairs,
they figured without the higher power.
And they were right.
Only they left out
one ingredient,
faith and hope, which AA gave me.
So I came into AA.
And now these doctors
leave me with mixed emotions
because two of them are dead.
And I don't know whether to say
I'm glad or I'm sorry. I don't know.
And the third guy,
he's not looking well
at all.
And every time I see him,
I tell him the same thing.
Doc, take care of yourself.
The normal people need you.
I don't.
I have what I need.
AA, here, I have a new way of life.
I know what to do in case of any emergency.
And I go on
and on.
It's a wonderful, tremendously
easy way to live
if you just throw in the sponge.
Quit.
You're fighting a sucker's game.
You want to know how to
pick up a drug store?
I'll tell you. Don't try it.
I'll tell you about it.
You want to know how to roll a drunk?
Or crush a man's skull?
I'll tell you.
You want to know how to set up a crap game
so you can't lose?
Yes.
Because this is my knowledge.
But if you want to know
what it feels like
to go home and sleep with an easy mind
and have no fear whatsoever
and have a tremendous
and simple faith
in an unseen
higher power
and watch miracles happen
day after day after day after day
then you surrender.
You say yes.
Before I knew I shouldn't drink
now I know I can drink.
What a hell of a difference that makes.
For a while
I'm going to wind up here.
I want to just tell you
one little poem
that I have a little prayer
that I say in the morning.
Every morning in our group
I'm going to leave some copies of it here for you too.
And it goes like this.
It's called The Secret.
And it says I met God in the morning
when my day was at its best
and His presence
seemed like sunrise
like a glory in my breath
and all day long the presence lingered
and all day long He stayed with me
and we sailed in perfect calmness
o'er a very troubled sea.
So I think I know the secret
learned from many a troubled way
you must seek Him in the morning
if you want Him throughout the day.
And with that I want to thank you all
for being so patient with me
thank you for having me here
and God bless you each and every one.
Thank you.
Welcome to sobrietytalksataol.com
Thank you.
Discussion
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