My Feelings Are Seldom Facts but They Are Still Feelings – Chico C.

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About This Speaker Tape

Chico C. came up through the streets of West Palm Beach — drinking at eleven, carrying a straight razor at fifteen, and running with the roughest crowd in the neighborhood. Born in New York to a Puerto Rican father and Colombian mother, he drank alcoholically from his first drink and was smoking dope by twelve. By seventeen he had been arrested dozens of times, expelled from two schools, and was strung out on opiates and barbiturates while maintaining a savage daily drinking habit.

His first contact with AA came at twenty-five through a religious retreat, but it took four years of bouncing in and out before he stayed. During those years he descended into psychotic episodes, a suicide attempt, and a plan to go house to house with a shotgun killing everyone who had wronged him. What brought him back was not a spiritual awakening but the simple fact that there was nowhere else to go. His sponsor told him five meetings a week — he said he would go but would not listen. That was enough.

Chico's sobriety was anything but smooth. He married his second wife at four and a half months sober, and their early years were explosive — running away from home into the closet, loading a .38 and driving to her office with plans to kill. At three and a half years sober and serving as chairman of his local intergroup, he came within inches of putting a butcher knife through her neck. His central teaching — that we become "sober too long to be sick" — comes from watching an old-timer with thirty-five years take his own life on Christmas Day because he could not admit he was in pain. Chico's humor is legendary and relentless, but underneath every joke is a man who knows exactly how close he came to dying, and who insists that honesty about pain is the only thing that keeps any of us alive.

He's your sponsor, you stay sober under adversity, I'll tell you that. I'll tell you something, you better stay away from those bifocals. I know a guy who had a lot of trouble with those. I mean, he got himself a new pair of bifocals,...
He's your sponsor, you stay sober under adversity, I'll tell you that. I'll tell you something, you better stay away from those bifocals. I know a guy who had a lot of trouble with those. I mean, he got himself a new pair of bifocals, and when he was in the bathroom admiring the big one, the little one peed all over his feet. I don't know. I don't know. I'd like to thank the committee and whoever's responsible for having me here before I get started on my remarks, for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful conference here. I've really enjoyed being here. This is my first time speaking in Texas, and it's really a pleasure and an honor to be here, and I want to thank whoever's responsible for it, and I want to thank you all for being here, because you see, long before I wanted to get sober and stay sober, it was the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous that kept me here. It kept me coming back, and there's a lot of fellowship at a conference like this, and it's sort of the heart of AA in a lot of ways. I have a little story about fellowship I thought I might share with you just to get started so you won't be too nervous with me. It had to do with about a couple that retired. They lived in the city, and they moved out to the country, and they decided they'd supplement their income raising hogs. So they bought this sow, and they had the sow out in the backyard, and every morning the gentleman would get up and look at it. He'd look out the window and see if there was any little piglets. There weren't any. So after a few weeks of being disappointed, he went to the vet in town, and he said, you know, I bought this sow, and we wanted to raise some little piglets, but we don't have any. And the vet said, well, do you have a boar? And he said, no. He said, well, you know, you have to have a boar with a sow if you're going to have some piglets. So he said, the farmer Jones down the road, now he has a boar, so why don't you take the sow down there and leave her with him? So they went out and they brought the piglets. And the next day he loaded up the sow in the wheelbarrow and took her down to farmer Jones, and he left her there all day for some fellowship. That's where the fellowship comes in. Picked her up that night, took her back home in the wheelbarrow, got up next morning, looked out the window, no piglets. Now he did this for a few weeks, and you know, he was disappointed every morning. Finally he said to his wife one morning, he said, I just can't stand to be disappointed one more time. You look out the window and see if there's any piglets. So she went over to the window, and she looked through the curtain, and she closed the curtain back, and she came back in the room, and he said, well, well, are there any piglets? She said, no, but the sow's in the wheelbarrow waiting for you. Now you know, we always wonder if we're going to say the right thing at these conferences, and any time they'll, you know, we have an opportunity to speak like that. And there was a family that lived out in the country, and they had outdoor plumbing is what they had. They got indoor plumbing, and they got this nice wooden toilet seat, and they painted it with white paint, and it was nice and pretty and everything. The lady at the house just couldn't wait to try it out. So she sat down on the seat, and the paint was wet, but she didn't know it, and she sat there a long time just enjoying this new convenience, and when she started to get up, the seat was stuck to her. Man, this was embarrassing. They had to go and unbolt the seat and take her with the seat stuck to her in the town to the doctor, and she was totally humiliated. And she goes into the doctor. In her embarrassment, she says to him, my goodness, have you ever seen anything like this in your life? And he says, yes, ma'am, but I've never seen one framed. Now, I know there are some people here that belong to the Fellowship of Perpetual Revenge known as Al-Anon. And I want to tell a little story that concerns them. And it's a little bit of a story. I'm going to tell you a story. I'm going to tell you a story. I'm going to tell you a story. I'm going to tell you a story. And the story is about my husband and his wife and his wife had an affair. And the family had an affair and he had to go to the doctor. Well, the doctor said, I have bad news and some advice. He said, I'll give you the bad news first. He says, alright, have you six months to live. And he says, oh my God, six months. That's all I mean, he's really upset. And the doctor says, you want the advice. And he says, yeah, it is my advice to use the Marian Al-Anon. And he says, are you crazy? I have six months to live. He told me, get married. The latest is, yeah, but it'll be the longest six months of your life. I guess I'll continue no one's throwing anything. My name is Chico Cortez, and I'm an alcoholic. Hi, everybody. Hi, that's great. You know, I spoke at a conference out of the country. A few years ago. And when I said my name is Chico Cortez, and I'm an alcoholic, we had a moment of silence because they didn't do that. And the silence almost knocked me over. And there's nothing that makes me feel better than to have all that love come back at me. Because you see, I need that. That's important to me. Love is what kept me coming to Alcoholics Anonymous. You know, that's what kept me coming back. Now, I guess that you know by my name that I'm not your typical Irish alcoholic. Actually. I'm a Puerto Rican with an Irish disease. I was born in the capital of Puerto Rico, which is New York City. To be perfectly honest, I'm half Puerto Rican and half Colombian, which is sort of like Miami Vice with food stamps, you know, like that. I used to think I started early on my drinking career and only in alcohol. I think an alcoholic would call it a career. But after listening to some of you talk, I realized that I missed a lot of years. But I did start with my first drunk at the age of 11. Now, I think I was an alcoholic from the very beginning. I drank alcoholically from the first time that I had the opportunity to drink all that I could. And that was at that time. I started smoking dope when I was 12. And I started drinking on a regular basis around 13 or 14. Now, my father had died when I was 12. And I was a little bit older. But I was 13 and we had moved back to Puerto Rico. And in Puerto Rico, you didn't have to be 21 or 18 or 19 or anything to drink. You could just go buy it and it was there. And I ran around with an older crowd. And the next youngest after me was 17. And the reason that I ran around with these high school seniors and college guys was because it got a big kick out of this kid that could drink so much. I mean, I could drink most of them under the table at 13. And that's why I went with them. And so I did a lot of drinking real early. And I smoked a lot of dope real early. And I did a lot of these things. I didn't mention it, but I hope it doesn't make anybody crazy. But I'm a drug addict also. And I thought I'd mention that because it's important for me. And there's a lot about my life and what happened in my life that had a lot to do with who I was before I had that first drunk. I don't know what you were like. But I think that as far as my personality and everything, I was predisposed to alcoholism. I had an addictive personality from the beginning. And I had all the personality traits and characteristics and everything. And I'm just going to tell you one story that maybe someone will identify with. And that was when I was like in the fifth grade or so. See, I was never good at anything in school. I mean, I made straight A's in my studies and all that. But I was never good like at sports or anything that had to do with doing anything with anybody else. If I was by myself, I was okay. But if I had to go play sports or anything, I was okay. I was a good kid. I was never any good at it. And I didn't think I was good at it. And then I proved it to myself. And we used to play baseball at recess. The only time I ever got a hit was if the ball hit the bat. I mean, I'd stand there and if the ball hit the bat, you know, it was like that. Because I was afraid I couldn't do it. And one day the ball hit the bat. And I ran to first base. And I made it there before the first baseman caught the ball. And after my teammates recovered from their shock, they, you know, I'll tell you how it was, man. They chose sides. You know, I was the last one chosen. You know, and the two captains would get together and they'd say, look, I had them the last two times. You know, it's your turn. You know, it was like that, you know. But I got to first base and the first baseman had the ball in his glove. And he was standing like this pretending he didn't have the ball. And I knew he did. But I looked at my teammates and they expected something from me. It's terrible when people expect things from you. I mean, I could never handle that. I still don't handle it well. And I looked at second base, see, and it was over there. And I knew I had to run from first base to second base. And then I had to go to third base. And then I had to go to home plate. And they expected me to go all the way around those bases and score a run. I looked back at the first baseman hiding the ball in his glove. And I thought I'd take the easier, softer way. And I stepped away from first base and I let him tag me out pretending that I didn't know he had the ball. Because, you see, that way there weren't any expectations. And in just that manner I continued to get tagged out in the game of life for a lot of years thereafter. Because it seemed to be the easier, softer way. When I was down at the bottom of the heap, you didn't have to expect anything of me because there wasn't anything to expect. And I started in on my, in West Palm Beach where I did most of my drinking and drugging and everything. I started doing that when I was about 14. I started running with the crowd that did drinking and drugging. I mean, you know, I was smoking dope before it really got fashionable. This was back in the 50s, in the mid-50s. And I ran with this crowd and I got in a lot of trouble and I went to jail a lot. And we had a lot of problems. There was a lot of violence. I learned very early what to do on the street. I lived in a rough neighborhood and I drank in an even rougher neighborhood. And I started suffering from what I've heard some people refer to as another illness. And that's called being terminally cool. You know, and I... I was going to be cool if they killed me. About that time there was a movie that was called The Wild One with Marlon Brando. I'm sure some of y'all remember that. Now, see, Marlon was cool. And there was a scene in the movie where the cops roughed him up. No, it was some of the townspeople roughed him up. And he said to them, being cool, he said, Man, my old man could hit harder than that. And I thought, wow, that's it, you know. I mean, that's what I'm going to do. So the next time that I got arrested and they took me down to the police station and took me to the back for a little interrogation, I said, man, my old man could hit harder than that. Do you know something? I was wrong. It only works in the movie. I mean, you know, like, don't try it because I was wrong all the way. But, you know, I started losing drinking buddies and everything about the age of 15. And I started having blackouts and stuff like that about that time. And people didn't want to drink with me because I was drunk. And I didn't want to drink with me because when I drank, and I heard some people talk about being happy and having a good time. When I drank, I became sullen, unpredictable, violent, which is not a good way to be if you carry a straight razor, you know, which is what I carry. Because I had learned real early that there was basically two types of the people on the streets that I ran around with. There's just two types of people. There was the muggers and the muggies. And I knew which one I wanted to be. So I carried a stiletto with a six and a half inch blade in one pocket and a straight razor in the other. And I learned very early in the game to drink on other people's money. Now, I can tell you that I'm feeling pretty safe here because I probably have never met any of y'all. But when I tell that in West Palm Beach, I usually throw a little disclaimer in case there's anybody there that I might have rolled. See? But that's the way that it was. And I got in all this trouble. And, you know, I went to a parochial school, which was kind of funny. I was their welfare case. That's the way that it was. And I went to this school. And I got kicked out of school. And I went to public school. And I got kicked out of public school. And then I quit school. And, you know, I was out on the streets in the area that I drank in in West Palm Beach. It was sort of a rough neighborhood. And I knew all the hookers on the street. I knew all the junkies on the street. I was one of them. I knew all the people. I knew all the people that were dealing. I knew all the people that were stealing. I knew what everybody was doing on the street because that's where I was at. And I can remember one Sunday morning sitting in the alley with a warm can of beer thinking, Man, I have really arrived. I'm really cool. Here I am. You know, I'm going to be Mr. Big one day on this street. One day on this street, I'm going to handle the drug dealing. And I'm going to have a string of whores. And I'm going to have a big Lincoln. And I'm going to be Mr. Big. But, you know, when you're an active alcoholic and drug addict, it's just hard to be successful no matter what you think you're going to do. I mean, it just doesn't work, you know. But that's where I hung around. And I was, you know, I was real young. I was like 15, 16 years old. And I never had to pay for any booze because all the whore houses and all the places around there, there's a whole bunch of them in that area. That whole block's been torn down now. I was sort of like the mascot there. I guess everybody liked me. And, you know, I had free booze and free drugs and free everything. And, you know, it was like that. And I learned an awful lot real early. And I learned about jail. I learned that jail was sort of a vacation, you know. And when you're at that particular level in society, jail is no longer a threat. You know, jail is where you go to try to recuperate from all the drugging and drinking and everything else that you're doing on the street, you know. And 30 days in jail every now and then is not enough. You know. And it's not a bad deal, you know. Because, I mean, even if they offer you time off for helping them clean up the place, you say no because you just want to lay there and, you know, sort of get well, you know. So you can go back out and get sick again, which is sort of crazy. But that's the way that goes. And so that's like where I was. During this period of time, I withdrew from barbiturates at least twice. I did a lot of drugs during my... I used and I drank for 19 years, okay. And during this period of time, I became addicted to drugs. I became addicted to a lot of different drugs, to opiates and barbiturates. And I did a lot of amphetamines and I smoked a lot of dope. I just did a lot of stuff, you know. I mean, I can walk in anybody's house and open up their medicine cabinet and there's enough stuff in the average medicine cabinet for me to get off on that I wouldn't even have to deal in illegal drugs. Or I can open up your refrigerator, you know. And there's plenty of stuff in there, pressurized stuff you can get off on and all that, you know. I mean, it's just right there. And that's just part of what you want. That's just part of what you learn, you know. The good stuff isn't always available. But by the time that I was 17, I had been in jail several times and I had been arrested dozens and dozens of times. And I had been kicked out of two schools. And I was a junkie and I was an alcoholic. And I'd cut people up and people had cut me up. And I had been shot with birdshot one time in the back. And I had been in a whole lot of trouble. And the interesting thing was that I never thought I was going to be a drug addict. And I never thought I was going to be a drug addict. And the interesting thing was that I never thought that my way of life and the drinking that I was doing and the drugs that I was doing had anything to do with it. It was just a lot of bad breaks, you know. I was really a nice guy. I mean, notwithstanding the fact that if I had drugs and you didn't and you were dying, I would let you die. Notwithstanding the fact that if you had money for booze and I didn't, I would roll you even if you were my friend. You know, but I thought I was still a nice guy besides those things. Because I knew that the people that I ran around with would do that to me. It wasn't a matter of not liking anyone. It was a matter of survival. And at that level, you know, you're going to survive no matter what happens to anybody else. You know, and that's the way that it is. I met a girl when I was 17. And we got married right after I graduated from high school. And she came from a drinking family. And she objected to my drinking. And so I quit drinking for about two months to show her that I could take it or leave it. And it wasn't too hard to do. Because I didn't quit anything else except the drinking. And then I started drinking again. And that was my first marriage. And I say that because I noticed that we in Alcoholics Anonymous tend to do things like that in plural, you know. And I just thought I'd pass that along. But during this marriage, we had three children in this marriage. We were married 11 years. And these children grew up in a home with an alcoholic father. And all the things that go on in a home life. They grew up in a home where when the old man came home and he'd been drinking, everybody got quiet. And everyone sort of held their breath waiting to see if I would stay or go. And if I left, then everyone would stay awake wondering whether I would come home so drunk or so high that I would just sort of make it through the door and fall down in the living room or in bed or wherever. Or would I come home and want to tear the place up. And if I had taken you through a tour of the house, because I was a violent drunk and I brought this into our family life, I could have brought you in the house and I could have showed you the bullet hole in the front door. And I could have shown you the gouges out of the walls where furniture and ashtrays and things were thrown. And I could have shown you the door jam in one of the bedrooms where I had tried to chop my way through the door with a machete one night before I passed out. And I could have shown you on the right day the wife with the split lip or a kid with a black eye or, you know, the bruises and the whole sh- And I used to think when I wasn't drinking that I didn't want to be this way. And that I wasn't this way, but I was. But I was. And I used to try to blame it on the drinking, but you see a lot of it happened when I wasn't drinking, when I was in between drunks. Because my alcoholism and my addiction was not something that I turned on and off like a switch. It was there all the time. And I was the type of... of drinker that when I went to a... party or... there was this family reunion that we went to. Now I don't know how you blacked out, but I never blacked out for days at a time. It was just for hours at a time. So the next morning I could only remember a little bit of what happened. It's like having all these pictures that you couldn't put together because there was space in between, you know. And I was at this family reunion and sometime during the family reunion I blacked out. And I came out of it. I came out of the blackout. With a knife in my hand. With a bunch of family members... pinning me up against a wall and I'm screaming and shouting obscenities about wanting to cut up a relative. And I'm going to tell you something. I was more surprised than they were because I didn't know I was there, you see. I mean I just came out of it. It's kind of hard at times like that to say, well look where I am, you know. I didn't know I was here, that you, you know, because... they start wondering about you. I mean they're already wondering, but you know you don't want to confirm your suspicions. And I had a terrible fear. That's right. I had a terrible fear that at any time, you know, they were going to just take me away and lock me up someplace because I knew that other people didn't act the way that I did. I mean I knew that. And I knew that they lock people up like that. And I didn't want to be locked up and I didn't want to go away. And you know every time that the phone rang I started getting nervous about the phone calls. And every time a strange vehicle rode by I wondered if I was being checked out. And I never hid any booze. Or anything like that because everyone was afraid to throw it away. But you know we've all got something to hide. And what I would hide would be the empty. And I would go out at night with all this... I drank a lot of beer. I'd go out at night with all these beer cans and stuff, you know. And I'd take all the garbage out of the garbage cans and set it on the ground. And then I would sort of put some garbage in and stick a can in. And kind of strategically locate all the trash and the garbage. So you know maybe, I don't know, I thought the garbageman inspected or something. I don't know what I thought. I just kind of do that. And like that. And then I would spend a lot of time doing a lot of crazy stuff. Like for a while I got to thinking that I could be two places at one time. And I thought, you know this is really neat. I know I'm two places at one time. And I've got to catch myself at the other place. So this isn't too sane. So if you're not with me that's okay. I'll get through this in a minute. But I would write myself notes. And I'd say, well you know it's 7.45 and I'm at such and such a place. And I'd write it down. And I'd sit there and I'd wait to catch me not there. See. And like that. And stuff like that. You know what I mean. Yeah well it was strange. I have to tell you. I have to tell you so you understand that when I came to Alcoholics Anonymous, the worst thing that happened to me was the disappointment of knowing that I would probably never experience hallucinations again. Because I loved them. I mean even, I mean you have bad ones once in a while. But I loved them. And there was nothing better than having my senses completely distorted. You know what I mean. That was it. And when I came into the program and I found out that I couldn't do that, I was really disappointed. And I tried to figure out how I could be, you know, sober and still do that. You know. And I was told that it didn't work that way. But anyway, back to the story. So during this period of time. Now I never tried to quit drinking or drugging or anything like that before I came to AA. But during this period of time I went to a religious retreat that my father was a pastor and law conned me into going. It was one of these deals, you know, what's the matter, are you afraid to go? And I said, I'll show you, you know. So I went. And they had a guy from Alcoholics Anonymous speak. And he was 23 years old and he had been sober for two years. Now I have to tell you this was 1964 and there just weren't very many 23 year olds in Alcoholics Anonymous in 1964. Now I knew all about this guy because I had been with him on his first drunk. And so after he finished talking and everything, I went over to him. I was 25 at the time. And I went over to him and I said, you know, I'm going to go to AA. And he said, you know, I'm going to go to AA. And I said, you know, I'm going to go to AA. And I said, you know, if I give it to him, he'll come to AA and I'll give it. He awkwardly gave me a glass of coffee and he was reallyrell but he said, no, I'm just going to go to AA. So every time I went into AA again, he thought that I was not going to care if he's drunk. I didn't want to be in AA ever again. And then he went in and he kicked me in and he pissed me off again all over again in Agave. And I was typing homophobic, and I was like, no way. That sounds great. But, you know, he, he was really compartil Teresa and he kept noticing everything. And I was, you know, so motivated he would go right over to AA, keep on going crazy. And he was almost drunk for 60 seconds. Until, like, 99. He 중에SD. I'm 47 now, okay? Okay. So I went over and I started talking to him. I tried to get him to tell me that I was an alcoholic, you know, but you know how we do, right? And he said, well, it's not up to me to tell you, but he says, I will say this, I think you have pretty good potential. And he told me where Alcoholics Anonymous met in our area, and I said, well, I think I'll check it out, and I never did, of course. And six months later, I was taken to Alcoholics Anonymous. And I had gone back up to this monastery where they had this religious retreat, and I went to see the priest that was there, and I was going to tell him, see, I was okay, but I had this rotten life, and these terrible children, and these in-laws. Man, I hated these in-laws. You know what they were like? I could never get any money together, so they put the down payment on the house that we bought. That's pretty nice, except that, you know, you could always tell the alcoholics, this house, because the grass is always two foot high in the front yard, right? And they'd come by, and they'd say, you really ought to cut that grass. And I'd say, I will, I will. You know, they'd say, well, you know, if it wasn't for us, you wouldn't have this house. And I hated them, because it was true. So I went up there and talked to this priest about the rotten family and the rotten in-laws and this terrible job. I mean, the job was way beneath my ability. You know, I mean, there just hadn't been any openings, and the classifieds lately for Chairman of the Board of General Motors, no experience necessary, you know, or anything like that. But, you know, I started telling my sad story. And he said, you want to do something about all this? And I said, yeah. And I thought, man, we're going to get them now, right? And he said, I think you should go to Alcoholics Anonymous. Man, I was astounded. I hadn't even told him I drank. You know, I don't know how he knew. Maybe it's because I didn't have any shoes on, you know. My clothes were dirty. I had puke on my shirt. You know, could have been a clue, right? You know, I don't know. So I said, yeah, that's a good idea. I think I'll do that. And he said, wonderful. We will take you. I think he'd been around drunks before, you know. So he took me to AA. And that was my first contact with Alcoholics Anonymous. And I became an upstanding AA member. I mean, I went to meetings every day, you know. And I was out of the house. I wanted the family back, okay. So I went to a lot of meetings. And, you know, I bought a big book. I even read it once, you know. I mean, it was like that. And then the family came back. And I was... You know, I was young. And people would say, can you stay away from one drink for one day at a time? And I'd say, sure. You know, and they'd say, why don't you read the big book? And I'd say, I already did. And they'd say, why don't you read it again? I'd say, what for? How many times do you read a book, you know? And they'd say, do you have a sponsor? I'd say, no. And they'd say, well, you ought to have one. I'd say, well, if you were as smart as me, you wouldn't need a sponsor. And they'd just, you know, kind of smile and walk away. So the family came back. And I thought, you know, I really need to pay the family back for all these things that they didn't have. And I only thought of things as material things, you know. I didn't know anything about loving anybody or anything like that. I mean, if I did, I wouldn't have missed the first six Christmases in a row that I was married to this woman. I just couldn't make it home on Christmas, you know. So she had to get the neighbor to come over and put the toys together and like that because I would be out, you know, doing my thing, getting drunk and everything and showing up whenever I showed up. But anyway, so I got a job. And the part-time job was, like, 38 hours a week. And I worked 54 hours a week, the regular job, and still found time to drink and drug in between. You know, of course, some of it was on the job, you know. I mean, what else can you do, right? I mean, if you don't have time, they don't give you time. You've got to do it that way. And I quit going to AA. And I decided, now, I wasn't drinking and I wasn't using any drugs or anything like that. I was sober, such as it was. I quit going to Alcoholics Anonymous. And people would come around and they'd say, Hey, Chico, you want to go to me? And I'd say, No, man, I've got to work tonight. They'd say, Well, you know, you really ought to go to meetings. I'd say, Well, I will. Then they'd come around and they'd say, Hey, go to a meeting with me tonight. No, can't do it tonight. They'd say, Well, you know what happens if you don't go to meetings? And I'd say, Not to me. I'm smarter than you. And I got to thinking how I was probably a little bit hasty in coming to Alcoholics Anonymous so soon. You know, I mean, I was like 26 and I kind of thought it was an Irish disease, you know. There weren't too many Cortez's in the room, I'll tell you that. And, you know, I started thinking about all these things. And time went by and I lost contact with people in AA. And during this period of time, and we had three children, two boys and a girl. The girl was the youngest. And during this period of time while I was still not drinking, still not using drugs or anything, you know, sober as it was, dry at least, we were watching TV one night and my daughter, which was probably about a year old or so, was laying on the couch. She was sleeping. And while we were watching TV, she had a convulsion. And she stopped breathing. And, I mean, everybody went into a panic and my wife was into a panic and I grabbed my daughter, my little baby girl, and I grabbed her and I shook her and she was just as lifeless as she could be. And her face was turning blue and I threw some water on her and nothing happened. I ran outside with her and I started to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I'd never done that before and I've never done it since. So I don't know if I even did it right. But, you know, I started doing that. And every time that I would breathe into her lungs, her lungs would expand. And every time I would stop, she would stop. And I don't know if I would have been able to stop trying. I don't know if I could have stopped trying without someone pulling me away. But somewhere along the way, her breath caught and she started to cry and she started to breathe. And, you know, she lived. Now, you know, you would think that if you were in the position that I was in, not going to meetings, just cry, that I would have looked at this and I would have known for sure that if I had been drinking, if it hadn't been for Alcoholics Anonymous, that my daughter would have been dead because I wouldn't have been there. I'd have been out getting drunk. And you would think at a time like that that someone like me would say, thank God for Alcoholics Anonymous that my child lived because I was home sober. But you see, I didn't think that because I was planning to go out and get drunk. And it never even saved me. And it wasn't too long after that that I started again, drugs first, then booze, and I was off and running. And it took me a little over four years to get back to Alcoholics Anonymous. And I'm going to tell you what happens. I don't know if anyone here is here for their first time in AA and they're thinking, well, maybe they've been a little bit hasty, or maybe they've made a mistake and like that. But I'm going to tell you what happens because I think it's important. The first time I came to Alcoholics Anonymous, I didn't want to be here. I came because I wanted the family back. And I don't think that you have to be sincere to come here. Actually, I've noticed that a lot of you newer people don't have the sincerity that we old-timers used to have. But that's beside the point. But you know, what happened was that when I came the first time in spite of myself, I was filled with what I like to call the magic of AA. You know, you go to Alcoholics Anonymous and there's all these clean-smelling people who are laughing, you know, and they're happy and they shake your hand and they get your coffee if you look like you're not going to be able to handle that and sometimes hold it for you if it looks like you're not going to be able to get the coffee from your hand to your mouth. And they give you phone numbers. And they say, come back, we need you. And they offer to take you to meetings. And it's just so wonderful. You know, it's what made me come back. And if you go out and you do a little more research like I did and you come back again, when you come back the next time, there's a little bit of that hope and a little bit of that magic that's not there anymore. And you look at the people that are still sober that came in when you came in before, you know, since you came in, and you look at them and you're like, they're a little resentful, you know, they're still sober, you know, and you're not. And you go out again and you come back and there's a little less hope and a little less of the magic each time that you go out and come back. And if you're like I am, the way that I was, I bounced in and out of Alcoholics Anonymous about four years. And the longest period of sobriety that I had during this time was three weeks and it was only one. Now they do this chip system in Florida, you know, where they give out the white chip and the red chip and like that. And I'm going to tell you something. And I started to notice a few things about you guys. I noticed that when I got my tenth white chip of the month that the applause was not as enthusiastic as I used to remember it. It had been a long time since anybody gave me their phone number. And when that guy that had a couple of weeks of sobriety came over to save me, his sponsor called him away, you know, get away from that guy, you know, he's still contagious. But that didn't matter because you see, I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous not because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous, but because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous. Not because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous, not because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous, not because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous, not because I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought that this time I was going to make it because I had long stopped coming to AA because I thought this time I was going to make it. I was coming to Alcoholics Anonymous. It's okay, folks. They have to go out. We were warned. I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous. That was a rotten thing to do, wasn't it? I just want to let you know that it takes a long time for recovery. I was going to Alcoholics Anonymous because there was no place else to go. And I don't care. How long you've been out there and I don't care how bad it is out on the street. Once in a while you have to get away and you have to just go and sit next to a warm, sober body for an hour and just be someplace like that. And then you go back out again and you continue dying. During this period of time I was divorced. I lost most everything that was near and dear to me. The only thing that I had was a job and the man I was working for was reluctant to fire me and he had no reason why except he thought it probably wouldn't help. And I guess he really didn't need me much because I only showed up to work two or three times a week. And when I showed up I didn't show up to work. I just showed up. That would be a little more honest. But I was living in this apartment that was... They had been chicken coops at one time and they had reconverted them for people like me. And the best way I can describe it is that when I was too drunk to open the bedroom door I could crawl under the space between the floor and the door to get to the bedroom. You know, I mean, it was like that. If it rained I had to go outside and push the windows shut you know, because the handles had rusted off and it was just not the best place. And so there I was in my chicken coop and I was drinking and drugging and there was no kids and no family and no car and no money and no anything. And I was all by myself and I decided that I was going to kill myself. This is in 1960. There was a group then called The Doors that I'm sure a lot of you are familiar with. And they had a song that was over 11 minutes long entitled When the Music's Over. And I decided I'd kill myself to this song. And you see, if you're like me, I mean, alcoholics just can't kill themselves anyway. You've got to do it right. You've got to plan it and you've got to figure it out and everything's got to be right. You know, I had to prop up the pillows and I had this contour couch which originally was not contoured but it got... it had gotten that way, you know. And I mean, I had to get everything right so when they found me I'd look good, right? And so I set the record, the needle on the record and I got on my contour couch, you know, and at that time I was drinking wine and I was doing morphine, you know, and stuff like that. And I'm laying there waiting to die and the record ended. And I had to get up and reset it, you know. Yeah, because I wanted to die when the record ended, see. And so it ended again. I had to get up and reset it. Well, one of the times while I was waiting to die or the record to end I had a convulsion. And, you know, during the convulsion I ended up on the floor, you know. It's kind of a messy thing, you know. And once I got to where, you know, I quit rattling enough to where I could think again or sort of think, I started thinking that this wasn't exactly where I wanted to be, you know. And then I started thinking which is the insanity of alcoholism that as soon as I could get off the floor that I probably would be okay. You know, if I could just get off the floor and crawl back on the couch I'll probably be okay. This is just a minor setback. Well, that didn't work so I decided that the next thing to do was that I'd kill all the people I thought had harmed me. And so I was going to, you know, I had a, I'd done kind of a mental inventory, you know, a postal inventory, right, of them. And I was going to kill all these people and I was going to go out this day and I was going to take this double-barreled 12-gauge shotgun and I was just going to knock on people's doors and blow them out. And I was going to go out this day and blow them away, you know. And I had a list of priorities of who I wanted to get the most first in case I couldn't get them all, you know. And I figured that, you know, by and by the police would find out that Mad Dog Cortez was loose and they'd gun me down and then, you know, they'd do for me what I couldn't do for myself, right? And so it was like that. But the night before I ended up at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. And I remember, you know, I was kind of into one of my drug trips and everything. I used to have this hallucination that occurred that I couldn't see people from the waist up, you know. It's like I could only see them from the waist down. So I was at this meeting and all I could see was skirts and slacks, right? But the skirts and slacks were saying the Lord's Prayer so I had a pretty good idea where I was. You know, I wasn't in church, you know. I mean, there were cigarettes and everything. So it was like that. So I ended up later at my sponsor's house. I don't know how I got there. I don't know if I walked or drove or someone took me or what, you know. But that's where I was and we talked. And he said, you know, just look at yourself. You're going to die. You're really going to die if you just go to meetings and just come to a meeting and just go there. Whatever happens, it's got to be better than what's happening to you now. And I said, yeah, I guess so, you know. And he said, do you think you're willing to go to any length? Now, I figured right there that any length for me, I mean, you know, I still thought I was this wonderful person. I figured any length was like, you know, climb the highest mountain, swim the deepest ocean. That type of thing. So I said, yeah, you know, I thought, well, he's going to say, well, memorize the big book or something like that. He said, well, any length for you is five meetings a week. Man, I had a resentment. That guy didn't understand. He didn't recognize potential when he saw it. I'll tell you that. I mean, he just didn't recognize it, man. He didn't. And I said, well, I'll go, but I won't listen. Now, I like to tell that story for two reasons. First of all, because I want you to understand it doesn't take very much honesty, willingness, or open-mindedness to make a decision. to make this program. And then the other thing that's even more important is that you see, he was a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. And he could look past that anger, past that phoniness, past that fear and pain and hurting and see what was inside. And he could love me anyway. And he could say to me, that's okay, Chico. You don't have to listen. Just go to the meeting and sit your butt down for an hour and that's all you have to do. I said, well, if you put it that way, I guess I can handle that, right? And that's the way I started in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I can remember when I had three weeks tied my record, man. I was telling everybody, I got three weeks, you know, which is interesting because when I first came in, I was so crazy. People didn't talk to me. And I know we talked to newcomers, but they did not talk to me. I had like three sentences left in my head. And I would tell you the first sentence. Then I'd tell you the second one. Then I'd tell you the third one. Then I'd tell you the first one. You know, and it was like that, you know. And I mean, I was really crazy. I was sober about three or four months. One day when I was at home, maybe longer. And I guess it was longer than that because it was just before Pat and I got married. And I was just studying my arm, you know, how we do things like that. And I was looking at my arm and I was watching this hair grow out of my arm, see? And it just grew up like this and then it sort of bent over and it started doing pirouettes. And I thought, wow, look at that, you know. And I had it like this and I called Pat. And I said, look, look, look, watch this. Man, we'll be millionaires. I've got a train hair in my arm, you know. And she just looked at me and she said, there's nothing there, you know. And I said, oh, it looked like there was something there. It was like that. So, I mean, I was like several months into the program so you can imagine when I was a few weeks into the program. It was like, you know, I didn't sleep the first eight weeks I was in the program. And if you don't sleep for eight weeks, if you're not crazy when you start, you will be, you know. I mean, it was like that and I weighed like 100 pounds, you know, dressed. And I was impotent, but I've recovered since then. I might mention that. And, you know, I mean, it was just, I couldn't eat when I first came in. I mean, the only thing that I could hold down was a few ounces of half and half, you know, and maybe a saltine or something like that, you know. And it was sort of 50-50 whether it would stay because it had been so long since I had eaten, you know. When I had first come in, I had run out of my connections and I knew I was going to crash real hard. And so the first thing I did was I drank everything that had alcohol in it in the house. I mean, I drank everything. I drank everything. Aqua Velva, you know, I drank everything. Aqua Velva is terrible. Menins is much better, I'll tell you. You know, but I drank everything, you know, that had alcohol or had anything that I could use that might keep me from crashing, you know. I raided the medicine cabinet for everything that was there, you know, and all that stuff like that and the refrigerator and whatnot, you know, and it was kind of bad. It took me a couple of days to figure out I had money, you know. And I could have gone out and bought something, but it didn't occur to me at the time, you know. I mean, just the way things go. So I was kind of a mess when I came into AA. Now, I want to set the stage for insanity here because I want you to understand that maybe you did, but I did not get well as soon as I came into Alcoholics Anonymous. When I was sober, just a short while, about, I think it was three and a half months, I was talking to you tonight, it was four and a half months. When I was sober four and a half months, I married my second wife. Now, she was also an alcoholic and a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and she was sober about three months. Now, that would tell you right through the day. We had a death wish for each other, right? On our wedding night, she said to me, I have just made the worst mistake of my life. Kind of a bummer, isn't it? I agreed. I said, I have too, you know. I mean, after that, things started to go downhill. The best thing I can say about this marriage was that we saved two other people by marrying each other. We would have these terrible fights. Now, I would run away. That's the way that I handled it. We'd come home from a meeting at night and we'd have a big fight, right, just before bedtime. That's the best time for newlyweds to have a fight, you know, especially if you're two hostile alcoholics. You know, you've got plenty to be hostile about about that time of night. And so I'd say, that's it, I'm leaving. And I'd run into the closet, which was a walk-in closet, which was the biggest room in the apartment. And I'd get dressed, you know, and I'd walk out and slam the closet door. Slam the front door. Slam the car door. And take off. Well, you know, if you're trying to stay clean and sober and you're brand new, there ain't too many places to go to at 12 o'clock at night, you know. So I'd think, I'm going to drive for three hours. She'll worry. So I'd drive around. Now, at that time in your recovery, three hours is about 300 years long. You know, I'd be looking at my watch and only 20 minutes had gone by and I'd driven everywhere I ever wanted to drive, right? And so I'd like, you know, come back home and sort of sneak in the house, right? Which was never too effective, you know, because I've never been good at being quiet. So, and I'd kind of get in bed, you know, and not say anything. And one night, I jumped up and I said, that's it. And I ran into the closet and I slammed the closet door and started getting ready to run out and slam all the doors on my way to run away again when I heard from the bedroom my wife's voice. Chico, are you running away from home again tonight? Yes. Man, I tell you, that was a cure. I didn't do that anymore. About that time, I thought I ought to have a sponsor that was married to an alcoholic woman because I figured any guy that's married to an alcoholic woman needs all the help that he can get. So I asked this guy to be my sponsor and the best way that I can describe him is to tell you he was a little to the right of Attila the Hun, you know? I mean, that's the way that he was. And we were having, I mean, we were having just terrible problems at this time. She had written her four-step inventory. I had found it and read it. Wow. We had a few things. I had a few things that I wanted to discuss when she got home from work. You know, it was like that. And I mean, and you know, I mean, we had sex problems. I don't know if you had sex problems. I feel, yeah, I feel like Joan Rivers. Can we talk? You know, I mean, you know, it was like that. But we had problems, man. You know, we had problems. And it was, you know, it was during this period of time that I was talking to my sponsor. I mean, it was like, you know, we'd fight over sex all the time. And, you know, and I'd get comments like over my dead body. And I'd say, I thought you told me you didn't want me to talk about last night anymore. You know, it was like that. I love identification. Isn't identification wonderful? My wife finally said to me, she said, why don't you make a sex schedule? I don't want to say you women are hostile. Why don't you make a sex schedule? You know, sort of like when we brush our teeth and when we eat breakfast and when we go to the laundry, you can just fit it in the schedule. Man, I was so sick. I didn't know what to do. You know what I said? I'll have to ask my sponsor. So I called my sponsor up, right? My sponsor said, tell her you don't need any damn schedule. Every night will be fine with you. Scotty, almost. Kidding. She'll be. I was so scared I couldn't face her. I called her up on the phone and said, my sponsor told me to say. That was terrible. That was a terrible time in our life. You know, about this time, the hostility and the anger was there. I mean, you figured that out, right? It was like there was a guy in the area that I had loaned $5 to. And he didn't pay me back. And that time, if you borrowed my pen, you better give it back. Because my survival depended on getting that pen back. And I was going to get it back if I had to kill you for it. You know, it's like that. This guy only had one arm. And he didn't pay my $5 back. Finally, one night, my wife comes home from work. I used to get home before she did. And she walks in the kitchen. I'm honing this machete. She says, what are you doing? I said, you know, so and so. He owes me $5. She said, so? I said, I'm going up to the club. And I'm going to demand my $5. And if you don't give it to me, I'm chopping his arm off. She said, knowing child psychology works real well with me. She said, have you talked to your sponsor? I said, none of his business. She said, you're not afraid to call him, are you? And I said, I'll show you. So I called him, right? I told you it worked. I called him. And I told him what I was doing. He had a moment of silence on the phone, you know? Finally, he says to me, what do you think the judgment is? I said, I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. And I told him what I was doing. He had a moment of silence on the phone, you know? Finally, he says to me, what do you think the judge would do to a guy that chops a one-armed guy's only arm off? I said, hey, murder. He says, well, if he lives, it's not. So he suggested something very novel. I'd never thought of it. He said, why don't you pretend you gave him the money and pray for him? So I said, well, okay, I'll try that. About that time, he suggested to my wife that we have the weapons removed from the house. He said, well, I'll try that. I said, well, I'll try that. He said, well, you know, I'm going to give you the money and pray for him. So I said, well, okay, I'll try that. About that time, he suggested to my wife that we have the weapons removed from the house. I mean, this is really big time now. Like, we were down to spoons, you know? That's the way that it was. I went to see a psychiatrist. Now we had different reasons why I went to see him. I went to see him because I was having trouble with the program. That's what I thought. His version was that I went to see a psychiatrist. I went to see him because I had all this hostility and aggression. Imagine that, you know? I don't know where he got that idea. And I went to see the psychiatrist. And, you know, it's like two weeks into seeing him, now the weapons are gone, right? He said, you know, the problem that you have is that you've got all this pent-up aggression, all this negative energy, and you need to find an outlet for it. So what I want you to do is I want you to buy an ax. And then on your way home, you stop in a wooded area and you go to the store. And you go to the store and you go to the store and you go to the store and you go to the store and you go to the store and you go to the store and you say, I want you to buy an ax. And then on your way home, you stop in a wooded area and you run out in the woods screaming at the top of your lungs and you chop up trees. So I thought, maybe I ought to ask my sponsor, you know? So I asked my sponsor and he told me I couldn't even have a hatchet. You know, I mean, it was like nothing. So I went back to the shrink and I said, my sponsor won't let me have anything that's sharp. So he said, do you have a hammer, a beaker? You say, I have a hammer. He said, I have a hammer. He said, I have a hammer. He said, I have a hammer. I have a hammer. I said, do you have a hammer? Being a construction worker, I said, oh yeah, I got a hammer. And he said, okay, well you run out in the woods with a hammer, you know, and beat up the trees and the rocks with a hammer. So I said, well, okay, I'll try it, you know? I mean, I was desperate, man. I'd do anything. So I ran out in the woods with my hammer screaming and beating up trees and breaking rocks and I went to see him the next week and he said, how'd it go? I said, man, it was the most boring thing I ever did. He said, why? I said, rocks don't bleed, man. I said, why? He said, well, it's just a mind conversation where you tell them what you're thinking about, you know, it's kind of a spontaneous thing. And I said, you know what I just thought of? He said, what? I said, it just occurred to me that if I thought only one of us could get out of this room, I'd jump up and kill you. He went, heh heh. Our relationship started to deteriorate, you know. He wanted me to go to this encounter group and now he changed his mind, you know. It was like that. Well, you know, we got the weapons back after a couple of years and now my wife worked for an agricultural extension office and she had three bosses. And one or the other boss would take her to lunch once in a while, you know, and one day she came home and she said, so and so boss took me to lunch and I thought, I've heard that a little too often. I was really paranoid then, you know, big time. I used to leave to go to work in the morning and I kicked a welcome mat at an angle. Then I'd try to memorize it, you know. Then I'd come back in the evening and I couldn't remember how I left it. You know, it would make me crazy. I'd sit at the meetings, you know. You know how it is at a meeting when someone says something that you really like or you really identify with and you go like that, right, just like that. Well, one of you guys nodded your head at the same time that my wife did. I think, a signal. They're signaling each other. It's a code. It's a rendezvous. And I get all worked up at the meeting thinking I'm going to kill them, you know, and I'll listen. And then they call on me and I couldn't talk, right, because I was all worked up. But anyway, you know, I thought I've heard just a little too much. So I got the 38 and I loaded it, set it on the seat, drove to where she works. I knew she'd be back at 2 from lunch. And I remember it was in July or August. It was really hot, you know, and it was just a miserable day. And I didn't have any air conditioning in the car. You know, that's the kind of cars alcoholics have in Florida when they're new. And I was sweating, you know, and I was just angry which makes you even hotter, you know, and just ready to kill. And I thought, I got there half an hour early or so because I didn't want to miss the murdering, you know, so I got there a little early and I waited for them to show up. And I knew she'd come drive, you know, they'd come drive around the side. She'd probably be sitting next to them looking so cute. They'd stop and I'd jump out and gun them down, right. Two o'clock came by. They didn't show up. 2.15. Man, I'd been out there over a half an hour sweating in the sun, hating. And I said, if they can't show up, I'll find time to hell with them. She didn't go out to lunch that day. So she was inside having lunch, totally oblivious to this little, you know, panorama that was going on outside. Sometime later, see I had brought all this violence into, into my AA life, you know. That's the only way I knew to be. I didn't know anything. I didn't know how to react any, any other way. If I was afraid, I reacted with anger and I couldn't, I couldn't see that it was fear and I couldn't tell you that it was fear because I had so much of it locked up inside of me. And I, it's the only way that I knew to react. And one morning when, when I was sitting at the breakfast table and I don't know what was said, words were said and I started knocking off all the silverware and dishes and glasses off of the table and everything. And she picked up a cup and threw it down and broke it. And I jumped up and I started hitting at her and she was trying to protect herself and she had her head down like that. And she backed over towards the counter and when I went over to hit her there was a butcher knife in the counter and I picked it up and I came down like that and I stopped about that far from putting that butcher knife clean through her neck. And I looked at what I had almost done and I set the knife down and I turned around and I walked out the door. And I thought, what do I do now? I was sober three and a half years in Alcoholics Anonymous. Chairman of the local intergroup association. Supposed to have it together to some extent, right? I was working in Fort Lauderdale. I live in West Palm Beach. I drove down to Fort Lauderdale and I called my sponsor and I couldn't get a hold of him. And I called his sponsor and I got a hold of him, my grand sponsor. And I told him what happened. And he said, a year ago you would have killed her. And I thought, is that all you can tell me? You know, my life is blown up in my face here. What am I going to do? And he said, well, just go back home when you get off work. Stay at work and wait and see what happens. It was a long day. I got back home and I got home about 10 or 15 minutes before my wife got home. First thing I did was check the closet to see if her clothes were there. And I sat and waited and she came home and I looked at her and I said, I don't know what to tell you. I mean, I just don't know how I could say I'm sorry and have it mean anything. And she said, well, this is a one day at a time program, you know. Why don't we start our day all over again right now? I tell that story because, you see, she, she had a pretty good time. She had a good grasp on the program. And it allowed her to do something like that. And so we started our day all over again one day at a time. You know, we come to Alcoholics Anonymous and we get a few 24 hours under our belt and we think that we're not supposed to go to meetings and be sick. We go to meetings and people got used to us and, you know, maybe in our group we're the one they call on last, you know, sort of to straighten everybody out, right? And we go to meetings and we learn the code in Alcoholics Anonymous. I mean, you walk in a meeting and they say, how you doing Chico? Fine, you know, I mean, that's it. That's the word, fine. And, you know, you're dying on the inside. Do you think I went to a meeting that night and I said, let me tell you what happened today. You know, I mean, I didn't say anything because I was fine. And the time comes, I think for many of us, where we find ourselves in Alcoholics Anonymous and we find ourselves in a position where we've been sober too long to be sick. And that's when we start to really sicken. That's when we really start to die because we can no longer tell people what's going on in our life. It's like, you know, we're going to this meeting to recover from an insidious illness and then we act like we're okay. And we're going to get through this. And we're going to be okay. I spoke a few years ago at an anniversary meeting in Pompano Beach, Florida and I told this story that I just told. And after the meeting, a guy came up to me and he was crying. And he said, I've never heard anybody say anything like that since I've been in AA. And I've been sober almost 5 years. And my wife's been sober 3 and a half years. And we just had a terrible fight tonight. And during the fight, I grabbed a pistol and I pointed it at her. The shooter. And she ran out the door. And I don't know if she's coming back. And I don't know what's going to happen. And after she left, I thought, how can I do this? I've been sober 5 years. This doesn't happen. This is AA. I'm sober 5 years. And I wondered what to do next. And I thought, should I just stick the gun in my mouth and pull the trigger? Or should I go out and get drunk? Or should I go to a meeting? And I thought, maybe I'll go to a meeting and see what happens. And I came to this meeting and I heard you tell this story. And we talked and we shared and I don't know what happened. I've never seen him since. But I like to think that maybe he walked away from there with a little hope that 5 years notwithstanding, you don't have to be well. That we all have pain in our lives and we all have difficult periods in our lives and that they don't necessarily go away because we've got 5 years or more. Because you see, since I've been in the program, I've seen people with a lot of years. Who had decided that drinking was no longer an acceptable alternative. And we had a man in our area that way. 35 years in the program. His wife had died after a lingering illness and he couldn't tell people how bad he hurt. He couldn't handle living without her. He couldn't handle the pain in his life. But you see, he was the founder of the group and he was the bleeding deacon of the group. And he'd done all this 12 step work. And 12 step just about everybody in the group. And he couldn't go there and walk into the room and break down and cry and tell them how bad he hurt. And how he couldn't go on living with all this pain. And he couldn't go on living without his wife and how much he missed her and everything else. So on Christmas Day, he stuck a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out. At 35 years in Alcoholics Anonymous. Because he'd been sober too long to be sick. And I don't want to be that way. And you know, we all want to be that way sometimes. But I can tell you tonight that I don't want to be that way. I don't want to be the type of AA member that is incapable of sharing his feelings with you. Because you see, my feelings are seldom facts. But they're still feelings. And I have to, I have to ventilate those feelings with you because you're the sounding board in my life. I have to be able to express being a human being. With you. Because when I stop, I sort of start to die on the inside. You know, there's a story that I heard about a man who had been a medical doctor and somewhere along the way he decided to become a missionary. And he and his wife had gone to Africa to be missionaries and they wanted to work in an area where there had never been missionaries before. And they had set up this little hospital there and this little mission and they lived there for quite a while. And they had a little house there. They lived there for quite a few years. And they had a child there and he delivered his son. And the natives in the village and everything were friendly but he could never quite bridge that gap between them and him. And when his little boy was about six years old he died from some jungle illness or other. And no matter what the father had tried to do with all his medical knowledge and experience he just wasn't able to save him. And he went and got the village blacksmith to help him dig a grave to bury his son. And they went out into the bush and they dug a grave by a large tree and they buried this little boy in there and they covered the grave up and had it to earth down. And it was about all this man could take. And he threw himself down on the damp earth and he started to cry and sob. And the blacksmith looked at him and he looked at him this way and he looked at him that way. And he looked at him some more and he turned around and he ran to the village shouting at the top of his lungs. And you know what he said? As he ran he shouted, The white man, the white man! He cried. He cried. You see those people had never known that he was human, that he was like them. Because he had done and said all the right things at the right time but he had never shown them that he was a human being. He had never shown them that he could laugh and he could cry and that he had feelings just like them. And don't we do that in Alcoholics Anonymous when we go to meetings and we get to where we've been sober too long to be sick. When I came to Alcoholics Anonymous I considered myself an atheist. I don't know if you've heard about the dial of prayer for atheists. You call them up and nobody answers. But I had considered myself an atheist at the time and I wanted to keep it that way. And I came to Alcoholics Anonymous and I dare you to try to change my mind. And it took me a while to see that, you know, I didn't come here because one day I decided that Alcoholics Anonymous is where I wanted to be and that a lot of things that happened in my life that there wasn't one single thing that I could think of that was a condition for me coming to Alcoholics Anonymous. There was no way that I had ever earned a privilege to come to Alcoholics Anonymous. Surely it had to be through God's grace. Surely it had to be through God's grace. You know, back then I used to like this poem entitled Invictus by William Henley and the last two lines, you know, say I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul. And the sad part about that was he committed suicide, you know. So I didn't know that at the time, you know. When I came to Alcoholics Anonymous it was people in Alcoholics Anonymous who gave me the God of my understanding. Because I had no God. You know, it was God's grace that brought me here and it was God's grace that kept me here. It was God's grace that allowed me to grow because I didn't know anything about loving and caring about anyone. I didn't know anything about how to be a good father or a good son or a good husband or a good friend or good anything. Because you see, I had never learned those things. The years when I should have been learning to do all these things I was out there drinking and drugging. And that's all I learned. You know, I mentioned those children from my first marriage. And they're adults now, they're all grown up. And I have a couple of stories that I want to tell about the children because sometimes we think that if we get sober real early that the children aren't affected. But I can see how alcoholism has affected my children. When my second oldest was 14 years old his mother sent him to live with us. You know, there's a time when you fight over who gets to have the kids. Later there's a time when you fight over who's going to keep them, you know. And he came to live with us. Now this kid had been conditioned by his dear old dad, the alcoholic drug addict's father. And one day when we were eating supper he reached over for a glass of milk and he knocked it over. And he spilled milk all over everything. And he went, And I said, that's okay son, just get another glass of milk. And we were trying to wipe it up and all that. He said, no that's okay, I don't want any more. And I said, sure you do, get another glass of milk. No, that's okay, I don't want any more. And I realized that for a lot of years if he spilled that glass of milk I'd say, well kid, too bad you spilled that milk because that's your only glass of milk. And I conditioned him to know that he was worth about eight ounces of milk. And that was it. And I had to get up and go get his glass of milk because he could not get it. Later on, about five or six years ago, he and I were riding to the northern part of the state together one weekend and we got to talking about drugs and everything. And he was using drugs at the time. Still is as far as I know. And we were talking about drugs. And I got to tell him about all the things that I did, you know. And he was telling me about all the things he was doing. And somewhere in the conversation he said, Dad, this is really neat, you know. We were talking about drugs and everything just like I was talking to my friends. You know, most parents would just freak out if their kids said anything about drugs. He says, this is really neat. And I said, well, it's not too hard to understand. You see, I've already paid my dues and I'm not paying yours. Puts it on a totally different level. You know, he just looked at me and he knew what I was saying. He knew where I was coming from. And it was okay. You know, in my old days, I was a little bit more of a drug addict. You know, in my old days, I was a little bit more of a drug addict. And I was the oldest son who probably was affected more than any others. He was married a few years ago and I have a grandson three years old and another one on the way. And wonderful daughter-in-law. The only problem that her and I are having now is that she gets a little upset if I date anybody younger than her. You know. And I'm single again. That's in case you're confused. But. And. This son of mine. The last Christmas that I was at home before his mother divorced me. I bought him a telescope. And there was something wrong with the telescope. And it didn't work. And he said, Dad, you'll get it fixed, won't you? And I said, yeah, I'll get it fixed. And I never got it fixed. You know how those things are. I mean, that was Christmas. I left in April and the telescope was never fixed. And I used to think about that telescope and I used to cry about that telescope. And I used to. You know, it was sort of a focal point of who I really was. All the uncertainties. Who I was. All the unfulfilled promises. You know, all the commitments I had never met. And it haunted me for years and years and years. And about six or seven years ago, one Christmas, he came over with his girlfriend and he said, I got to show you something. Come here. And I went outside. There was this beautiful telescope. And you know what I thought? I thought about the telescope. And I said, son, I got to tell you something. I went over and I put my arm around him and I said, you remember that telescope that you were in? The telescope that I bought you that I never got fixed? And I talked to him about the telescope and I talked to him about what it meant to me. And all the promises that I had made that I'd never fulfilled. And all the shortcomings of the band. And how much I regretted it. And how much I hoped that I would be able to do different. And he put his arms around me and he said, dad, I love you. And he hugged me and he kissed me and he said, let's look at the stars and the moon and everything. And it was okay. Now, back when I mentioned that I had run out of my connection with drugs when I first came into the program, the person that was supplying me with the drugs was the guy that married my ex-wife. Okay? And they wanted me to sign adoption papers for the children. And the trick was that they were going to give me $10,000 in cash and a plane ticket anywhere I wanted to go. And I would sign these adoption papers. Well, being a good doper, I strung them along for about seven weeks, you know. Saying, I'm still thinking about it, you know. And finally the day came when he said, hey, we can't wait any longer now. You know, we got to know. You got to sign these papers right now. And it was at the lowest point in my life, I'm sure. And I looked at this man and I said, you know, I'd rather die than sign those papers. And he said, okay. And he turned around and walked away. And that's when I almost died. Well, I never told this story because I didn't want my children to know about it. And sometime later, several years ago, when I was speaking out of the area, I was speaking out of state, and I told this story. And of course, I came back home with tapes. And my son and his fiancée were over. And he said, I want to hear the tapes. And I said, well, I just assumed you didn't hear them. He said, why? I said, well, is there something I shouldn't hear? And I said, well, yeah. And he said, look, you know, I'm 21 years old now. I'm a grown man. There can't be anything on there that I can't handle. And I said, well, okay. So I gave him the tapes. And when we got to that part of the story, he said, is that what you didn't want me to hear? And I said, yeah. And he said, I've known about it for a long time. And you know, it's kind of a nice thing because they had known the dear old dad did not sell them out. He didn't sign them off. And they'd never said it, but apparently that love and that trust had been there. And the story goes on because about a year later or so, I was in Seattle waiting to change planes to go to New York. I was waiting to change planes to go to Vancouver to a convention. And my wife says to me, did you know that Tammy, your daughter, is planning to ask you to give her away at the wedding? And I said, no, she hasn't told me yet. And she said, well, she is. And she's already talked to everybody and gotten everything taken care of. My daughter is very outspoken. And she's got it all straightened out. And she said that Richard, her stepfather, said, well, I've raised you for the last 12 years. You know, I should do it. And she said, no, you're not my real father. And he said, your real father left you. And she said, no, he never left us. He only left our mother. And the day came, it was on May 15th of that year, that I walked my little baby girl down the aisle. I was a proud papa that day. I walked her down the aisle. And then we stopped and I pulled her veil back over her face. And I said, Tammy, I love you. And I kissed my daughter. And I went over and stood in the pew and cried with everybody else. Gave the bride away. Because one day I came to Alcoholics Anonymous not knowing if I would ever make it. Not knowing if there was ever an opportunity for me to ever die anyway but in the streets. But the love that you people gave me in Alcoholics Anonymous allowed this to happen. Now, you know, just because we get sober doesn't mean that we don't have problems. And problems I've discovered are God's way of building character. I've learned a few things in Alcoholics Anonymous. I've learned that I have to be honest with myself and I have to be honest with you. And I have to be honest with my feelings. And I've had a lot of feelings. I've had a lot of wonderful opportunities to grow in Alcoholics Anonymous. I had also the opportunity to be the area delegate for our area. That's where I met Diane, who used to be my friend. After this morning. Just kidding. And that was a wonderful experience. While I was a delegate, I was asked to do a eulogy for an old timer in our area. And another old timer had asked me and I said, I don't know how to do that. And he said, well, you're the delegate. I said, okay. And I remember just before it was time to do it, I was praying and I said, dear God, please show me what to do. Because I have no idea what I'm going to do. And I went up there to do it and I looked at everybody and of course it was mostly AA people. And I said, I would like to open this meeting with a moment of silence followed by a serenity prayer. And it was okay. And I discovered something as delegate. That the highest position you can attain in Alcoholics Anonymous is sober today. And that service is nothing more than love and work clothes. Giving us an opportunity to express it. But you know, times come in our lives when we do have problems. And we have situations in our lives. And we have times when we cannot compromise our feelings and the honesty that we've learned in Alcoholics Anonymous. And this is a difficult part of my story to tell. But you know, after 16 and a half years of being married to Pat, I asked Pat for a divorce. And it was a difficult time for me. I can tell you there were no third parties involved. It had come to be a time in my life where I just found that I could no longer say the things that I was expected to say. Because I didn't have the feelings on the inside to go behind them. And I had to ask her for divorce and tell her that I was not in love with her. And that there was no one else. That's the way that it was. It was a very difficult time. It was October 22nd of last year that this came about. And even if you're the one that initiates it, it's still not easy. And it was a difficult time. I moved out of the house and I moved in with a friend of mine in the program. We both belonged to the same group. She started going to meetings for that group on Monday. I went on Thursday. We had a lot of problems. We had a friendly divorce. We settled all our property and everything. We had a property settlement that was fairly easy to do. We sat down one night after a couple of chicken dinners and we divided 16 and a half years worth in one hour. During this period of time I discovered a lot of things. I discovered I had no idea what to do if you went out on a date. I mean that was really a trip, you know. Dating was something that I couldn't even remember doing. And I started dating. I started dating. Yeah, that's great, right? I mean, you know, there's all kinds of dates. You might have heard about the wolf trap date. That's the kind that when you wake up in the morning with her, you'd rather gnaw your arm off of the shoulder than wake her up. I know there's a lot of one-armed gals too, so don't get resentful, girls. But you know, it was really, I mean, the whole experience was really something. And during this time where I'm trying to get back into, you know, being single, whatever that was. You know, when I was single before, I was using and drinking, so now I'm sober. I'm going through a divorce sober. I'm single sober. And it was a whole new experience. And, you know, I had all the attendant problems that go with divorce and with coming to grips with my feelings and everything. I've been married to someone that was really, is really a very wonderful person. And we're still good friends. And I guess the saddest commentary that I can make about the whole thing is that I still care about Pat and treat her. Exactly the way that I did when we were married. And it's kind of sad after 16 and a half years. And I recognize that there's a lot of shortcomings in myself that I have to deal with. Because I don't have to deal with hers, I have to deal with mine. During this period of time, Saturday before Christmas, I broke a crown. And I went to the dentist for some emergency repair. And he gave me a shot to dead in my mouth and did the emergency work. And I went off. And I noticed during Christmas that I was sick. And I was sort of sliding into a depression. The day that this happened that night, I was in a terrible depression. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. And later I thought, well, maybe I had a reaction to the shot. You know, having used all the drugs that I used for a period of time that I'd used. On January the 6th, I went back to the dentist for three and a half hours worth of dental work. Gave me a couple shots to deaden the pain in my mouth. And he was going to give me a third shot. He had the hypodermic ready and everything. He said, is your mouth still numb? And I said, I don't know, you know. And so he didn't give me the third shot. That night, I went right into a terrible depression. And the outcome of the depression was that after 17 years, I went into a compulsion to want to use morphine. I wanted to shoot morphine so bad that I could hardly stand it. And it lasted for a month or a little over. I mean, I had a compulsion to use drugs day and night. I dreamed about it. I thought about it. I could visualize the needle in my arm. You know. I just hit it. I could just about feel that rush. And I go through these depressive episodes. And when I'd come out of them, I'd go through a simulated withdrawal. You know, I'd be craving sweets. One day, I drank 18 diet drinks in a row, trying to kill the craving. I'd eat candy. Then I'd be freezing to death when everyone else was warm. And I'd be sick. And I'd go through all this stuff. And I tried to talk to people about what was going on. I did not use any drugs or anything. And the only thing that I can tell you is that my life was saved because I had something to do. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. And I was able to do it. I had 17 years in the program. My clean date, my dry date, my sober date, whatever you want to call it, was January 20th, 1969. And I have not found it necessary to use any drugs or alcohol or substitutes of any kind since then. And I have become programmed to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. And I went to meetings. I went to these meetings. And I went to the meetings. I went to this meeting with a friend of mine. And I had this whole conversation. And I said, you know, I don't know. And he said the other day, well, I'm going to go to the police station and I'm going to do a little job and I'm going to try to save my life. was January the 20th of 1969. I have not found it necessary to use any drugs or alcohol or substitutes of any kind since then. And I had become programmed to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. And I went to meetings. I was going to meetings twice a day during this whole period of time. And I had sponsors. And I had worked on a program of recovery, the 12 steps, right? And I had done all these things, but I had this compulsion. And I tried to talk to, I had one sponsor, I tried to talk to, and he had no idea what was going on because it wasn't his experience. I mean, right in the middle of the pits of this depression, I was telling him what's happened. He said, have you tried prayer and meditation? And I said, don't you hear me, man? I'm dying. And I went to my home group. And they couldn't handle the fact that I was going through all this. The fact that I was going. Going through a divorce. And the fact that I was bouncing off the walls with this compulsion to shoot morphine. And that I was, you know, emotionally completely racked out. I mean, they couldn't handle it. I had started the group. The group was 13 years old, you know. And I was the soberest, the longest in the group. And it was like, can't you work the program, you know? And that's it, you know. I was in all this pain. And people were sort of backing away from me. And I didn't know what to do. And it was during this period of time, that a group of people that had similar experiences to mine gathered around me and supported me and held me up. And kept me going. And because of the love of people in Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12-step programs, that I survived this period of time. And I managed not to go out and kill myself. Because that's what I want to do. That's the bottom line. That's really the bottom line is suicide. Suicide. Suicide. You know, you talked about suicide. You know, you talked about suicide. You know, you talked about that earlier, Diane. And that's the bottom line. That's really the bottom line. But you see, Alcoholics Anonymous is a program of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other. And because somewhere along the way, I had learned the lesson of not being sober too long to be sick. I could tell you what was going on in my life. And if you walked away from me, I found someone else to tell. Alcoholics Anonymous. Alcoholics Anonymous has taught me how to love and care about other people and that you loved and cared about me. And I believed it. Alcoholics Anonymous has given me the God of my understanding. And you know, during this period of time, it's the only time since I first came in the program that I really hated who I was. I hated me. I hated who I was. I hated God. I hated what was happening in my life. And yet it was through God and through the people that gave me this God that I found my way to survival again. It was a difficult time in my life. I'd like to tell a little story that has a lot to do with God as I understand God today that I want to share with you in closing. And it has to do with a man who was an actor in the London Theater and his name was McCoy. He was a man called McCoy. And he had been born in a small English town. And he had been tutored by the Anglican priest in that town and encouraged to go on to greater things. And he had become a great dramatic actor in the theater. And after some years, he had been invited by the mayor of the town to come back. He was the most prominent citizen. Come back to the town to a big testimonial dinner on his behalf. And he agreed that he would come. And they had this big dinner and all four or five people were there. And they had this big dinner. And all four or five people were there. And they had this big dinner. And they had this big dinner. And they had this big dinner. hundred people in this small town showed up and after everyone had eaten and and toasted and everything they asked him if he would come up and say a few words if he would do them the honor of quoting some verses from whatever was his favorite and so McCorkle got up there and he quoted the 23rd psalm and he spoke in his deep voice and he he quoted it without flaw perfectly and when he finished there was a thunderous standing ovation for their most prominent citizen and then the mayor said well I think the best way to close this is to ask the father here to quote some lines from his favorite verses of scripture so the old priest came up and he shuffled up to the front and he said well I have to tell you that my favorite lines are also the 23rd Psalm. I probably won't do them the justice that McCorkle did. So the old priest recited the 23rd Psalm and when he finished, the room was completely silent. And the silence lingered. And finally McCorkle stood up and he said, I think I know what's happened in this room tonight, ladies and gentlemen. You see, I know the words to the verses, but Father here knows the shepherd. And you see, it's through the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that I've come to know the shepherd. And it's through the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that I have come to know that God works through people like you. It's through the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that I have learned that when I'm unlovable, you still love me. And that all that I have to do is to love you when you need to love too. Some years back, we went to a conference where there was a lot of hugging and everything going on. I took a new guy with me and he didn't like the hugging. There was one guy there, the best way I can describe him was, he was really unhuggable. And I hugged this guy about ten times in a couple of hours that we were there. And finally the new fellow that was with me said, how can you stand to hug that guy? That is the one most gross human being I have ever seen in my life. And I said, well, did it ever occur to you that I don't need to hug him, but that he needs to be hugged? And it completely stopped him. You know, we think a lot of times that there's no miracles in modern day times, but I submit to you that there are lots of miracles in Alcoholics Anonymous. That the emotionally crippled are made whole again. And that the blind do see in Alcoholics Anonymous and that the deaf do hear. And all we have to do is look around and open our eyes and open our ears and open our hearts. Because Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other. That they may solve their common problem. As this tells me that you and I can walk arm in arm today and begin our journey to trudge on the road of happy destiny. Thank you and God bless you. Thank you for watching!

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