Self-Sponsorship as the Alcoholic’s Shortcut to the Next Blackout – Dennis N.

Hello everyone, I'm Dennis Nance, I'm an alcoholic. Man, I ain't been on the lights this bright since the last time I was interrogated. Makes you want to tell the truth. To everybody. Who's that had sunglasses today? Martin. Yeah. I do. My home group is the Harrisburg Group of Alcoholics Anonymous in Harrisburg, North Carolina, actually on the outside of Charlotte there. And my sobriety dated February 1st of 1981. Now, I didn't mean for that to happen like that, it just did. If I had anything to do with it, I think I'd probably still be out there. You know, I was just thinking about something as I sat there, you know. Women, for the most part, say that we're not enthusiastic. We're not emotional. We don't have feeling. We're rational. We're thinkers. See, those women have never been to The Rock, though. See. That's what the deal is. They never get to see this enthusiasm. My story hasn't changed a lot, but I'm glad to be back at The Rock. Glad to be back at The Rock. And I'd like to thank the committee. I call it the White House. The White House is the White House. The White House is the White House. The White House is the White House. and especially Bill and Jewel and Doc. I'll tell you something, any time you've got to speak, Doc don't help your nerves or not. And another thing I thought about, you know, Jewel's a good friend, but I tell you I'm still not comfortable with judges knowing my first name. That's just not a good thing. It doesn't feel like a good thing. I have, I guess, been around long enough to hear some things and see some things change. And, you know, we've gotten real intelligent here, real modern. I like being close to Atlanta. And this roundup has people from California, Ohio, Illinois, I think, lots of people from Florida. You know, we're kind of backwards back up in North Carolina. Our education system is still behind everybody else's. We're still arguing about the school board and all that stuff up there. And, but interesting, there's some interesting theories coming out about alcoholism these days. You know, when I got here, they wouldn't let you talk about stuff like that. They were focused on the solution. And some of them are interesting. But I'll tell you one thing, I am perfectly convinced of this. And it's probably the only thing I'll say up here that's absolutely correct. And that is that I am positively sure that I'm sober by the grace of a loving God that manifests himself in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, and a continuously growing circle of friends like yourself. Now, that circle has grown every time I do what's suggested that I do in Alcoholics Anonymous. It grows every time I do it. It grows every time I take a step. It grows every time I utilize one of the principles contained in these steps. It grows every time I meet new people. It grows every time I share with you. But it grows even more when I allow you to share with me. And I like that. I like being a part of that process. But I didn't like getting here. I didn't like getting here. I got here, I didn't like old timers. I didn't like getting here. I didn't think they liked me. I wasted a lot of time watching them watch me in Alcoholics Anonymous. That's right. That's right. I just always did seem to be right in the middle of the solution, complaining about the problem. And that started in Alcoholics Anonymous. That started in life. And I got here, and these old timers were all sitting on the back row. They're like, I don't want to sit on the back row. I'm a good Southern Baptist. I broke in on the back row. I want the back row. But these guys always got to the meeting early. They got the back row. And the back row had old halfway house furnitures in there, you know, the wore-out sofas. See, up in North Carolina, we buy living room furniture. And when we wear it out, we move it to the den and buy some more living room furniture. And then when we wear that out, we rotate it again. We buy more living room furniture, move living room furniture to the den, move den furniture to the front porch. Front porch furniture, we donate it to the local halfway house. And that's how they end up in my seat. And these guys, I didn't trust people like that. They talk about being sober like it was just so beautiful and blissful. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. They smiled about it. And I noticed that all of them had fairly new teeth. It isn't like they had been used a lot. But they thought it was something happy. I didn't see anything happy about having to quit drinking. And so I spent a lot of time watching them watch me. And these guys were so serene. You could just look at them and tell a bill collector hadn't called their house in two or three days. They were calling me on the hour, you know. They didn't talk about marriage problems a lot. And when you saw them meet their wife after the Al-Anon meeting, they were all smiles. But I noticed that they couldn't seem to stay awake during the meeting. They'd start sleeping when you started reading the tools, you know. Some of them wore bib overalls. They were just so comfortable with themselves. And they would appear to be asleep until I said something dumb. And then they'd all wake up at the same time. And start asking those questions. And they'd start asking those questions. And they'd start asking those questions like my daddy used to ask. And the first question was, now boy, that's what they called me. They didn't want to break my anonymity, see. It's an hour. It's an hour. It's an hour. So now boy, who told you that? And nobody had to tell me anything. I was smart when I got here. I knew a lot of stuff. I knew stuff that they didn't even ask me. I had practiced knowing. And the second question was, can you find that in the big books? Well, I didn't have a big book. You don't need a big book unless you plan on staying sober. I just wanted people to leave me alone. And the last question was always, boy, who's your sponsor? Well, I didn't have a sponsor. Didn't want a sponsor. I mean, why would I go out and purposely find somebody to tell me what to do? I don't like being told what to do. Besides, I got a wife. She's telling me what to do. I've got state highway patrols telling me what to do. Local bankruptcy judge telling me what to do. Boss is trying to fire me. He's telling me what to do. I've got more help than the average man needs, and they want me to hire somebody else to tell me what to do. You know. But these old timers, they spoke a different language. They spoke a different language. And one of the things I remember them telling me about this AA deal, I remember hearing them saying it vividly. They said, now, boy, the fellowship will get you dry, but it's the program that gets you sober. I had no idea what they were talking about. But I can honestly say today, my life did not change significantly until I began to do what was asked of me, particularly until I began to deliberately take some deliberate action to take the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. And my life has continued to change. I'll tell you one thing right now. Nothing has impacted my life like the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. I've been through a lot of experience. I've been through a lot of things. College, Army, lots of stuff. But nothing has impacted my life like the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. But these guys were kind to me. They outlined a program of action for me. I didn't know how much they loved me. But they outlined a program of action for me. And back then, they didn't tell you don't drink and go to meetings. They told you not to drink and told you exactly what meetings to go to. You know why. Because they were sitting up in the old sleeping, too, harassing people. I was convinced that these people said, well, I worked all day. And most of these guys were retired. And they said at home, with nothing to do but think up hurtful stuff to say to me when I came to the meeting. So we got started. They outlined a program of action for me. And my program of action consisted of all speaker meetings except one on Tuesday night. And it was a step study meeting. But I went there with instructions not to say anything because they didn't want anybody to know they knew me yet. So I showed up every Tuesday night with my 12 and 12. And while you shared, I listened. And sometimes I read. But the magic began to happen for me in these speaker meetings. After a time, I began to hear something differently. I'll tell you what I heard. I heard the onset. I heard the problem. I heard the solution. But the most important thing, I heard the answer. I heard the answer. I heard the answer. And the most important thing I heard was the program of action that brings about that solution. And that's really the reason I go to meetings today. I go to meetings because I want to hear the onset, the problem, the solution. But most importantly, how you utilize the program of action that brings about that solution. Now, I didn't know anything about Alcoholics Anonymous. Didn't want to sponsor. I didn't know anything about the steps. But I knew I had drank like you drank. I felt like you felt. I thought like you thought. I knew I belonged in Alcoholics Anonymous. Thus began my journey in Alcoholics Anonymous. I'm an old country boy from Cleveland County, North Carolina. Born on a cotton farm up there now. And I was ashamed of that for a long time. But I've done some thinking about that. Anybody that was born in Cleveland County, North Carolina in 1953 was born on a cotton farm, too. And I was ashamed of that for a long time. But I was ashamed of that for a long time. But I was ashamed of that for a long time. But I was ashamed of that for a long time. But I was ashamed of that for a long time. I started having trouble right off the bat. Had all these sisters hanging around. Had five of them. You know, they seemed to get special treatment. Wearing pink dresses and pastel-colored dresses on Easter. You know, I'm just an old, egg-head boy. They gave me a pair of shoes and jeans and sent me to church. I was so sensitive that I would cry when they recited that little poem about what little girls made out of, sugar, spice and everything nice. Man, I did not want to be a little girl. I did not want to be a little girl. I did not want to be a little girl. I did not want to be a little girl. I did not want to be made out of frog snails and puppy dog tails, man. I had to cry about that, you know. I just couldn't stand that. Well, I started having some more problems. I started wearing glasses when I was five years old. Now, I hadn't figured out what that was about yet. I couldn't read. I don't know what they wanted me to see so bad, but I had some glasses. I later learned that I've got a weak muscle and an uncooperative muscle in my body. I thought, now that I'm so old, I'm going to be a little girl. my left eye. And, yeah, I look up, it looks back down sometimes, you know. When I start laughing, one eye fly open, the other one close, you know. So I got all my school pictures with one big eye and one little one on them, you know. They tell me to smile, and I try to do it, you know. I didn't know that then, you know. But now, I went to the first grade. I had no idea what was wrong with my eye. I just wore glasses. But I got in the first grade, and I had a guy that sat right in front of me. We had this big table. His name was Albert Ray Chambers. Had some pretty white teeth. Eventually married my sister. The whole family got pretty white teeth. But anyway, he's sitting there smiling at me. I said, well, I'm making friends already. And we went to lunch, came back, and about 2 o'clock, he's still smiling. And he finally leans over the table and says, do that again. I said, do what? He said, make your eye do that again. I had no idea what he was doing. And so, and eventually, eventually, I had to quit drinking because of that eye, you know. I quit drinking. I couldn't drink in bars because of the eye, you know. I guess I'd get drunk, or my eye would be the first thing that got drunk on me. I'd start looking around at people. And I'd get kicked out of the place. You know, I'm sitting there drinking, a little offended because the place doesn't serve Thunderbird. And, you know, I'm drinking. You know, short people will not let you enjoy a good drunk. They just mess up drunks, you know. And I'm sitting there, and I'm drinking. Well, it's usually a short guy on the other end of the bar drinking. They sit on the end of the bar so they can see everything. I'm drinking, he's drinking. I'm looking at him, he's looking at me. Well, I didn't realize my eye was looking at him. So he gets down, and he gets up, and he gets up, and he gets up, and he gets up, and he gets up, and he comes all the way across the bar, across the room. I see him coming. I know it's going to start. And you know how short people start fights. You know how they start. You know how this fight starts all the time. What are you looking at? I tell him the truth. I say, I don't have any idea what I'm looking at, you know. And then he wants to fight. So I, so I had more problems. I was born between two sisters who were both skipped a grade in school, both started school in the second grade. I've never wanted to follow instructions. I've never had a desire to play by the rules. And I guarantee I would not be sober today. I would have never taken the steps, had my very life. I enjoyed doing nothing. I found out shortly after arriving on the doorsteps of Alcoholics Anonymous that I'm not just physically lazy, mentally, emotionally, and academically lazy. I'm spiritually lazy. I spent a long, long, long time in Alcoholics Anonymous and wasted time, wasted my time and your time doing nothing in Alcoholics Anonymous. Well, they don't let you do that in school, Lord. So I started having more problems as I grew up. After getting about to the eighth grade, you know, and I think back now, and my parents' home was a good Christian home. Daddy was superintendent of Sunday school. Mom was a supportive wife, you know. And so I was taught good spiritual principles. But even in Sunday school, I began to perfect the very character defects that would keep me consumed by my alcoholism. So I was taught to perfect the very character defects that would keep me consumed by my alcoholism. I was taught to be a good Christian, which is, I will tell you, the greatest of the best in the world. The first thing I began to do is memorize things. If you're going to make it through church, you got to memorize stuff. And I memorized Bible lessons, memorized Scripture, spout that stuff off. And they say, Eldridge, you got a fine son. And I said, well, don't even tell him again, you know. And then I perfected the art of manipulating people. I learned how to act like you wanted me to act, do what you want me to do so that I could be successful. And you know, you know, if you keep your mind on something and you don't like it, you're going to be a fool for a long time, you want me to do, say what you want me to say until you quit looking. I'd do what I wanted to do then. But Dad had long arms and fat fingers, and he could thump you into a coma. Bam! You know, hey. You just, kind of like coming out of a blackout, you know. You just, you figure out, you figure out what it was and, you know, modify your behavior a little bit, you know, at least to get through the deal. But then I, you know, Sheva was a good place to grow up because we missed the whole civil rights movement. We didn't, we were about 13 years old before we realized we were supposed to hate each other. And if you wait that long, I've got to get my water all messed up here. If you wait that long, it's about too late to start hating each other. So the schools went to Grayton and Cleveland County, and I found out that I even felt different from other black people. You know, I was a black man. I was a black man. I was a black man. I was a black man. I'm black, fat, and weet. They knew me when I walked in there. It wasn't true. I said, well, you know, we have Annie Wood, her father. That掰掰 guy of 310 in Jackson County. You know, he told me in 312, he said, wow, I just missed something happens in one of our hips, we dip a little bit when we walk. I didn't do that. I had been pulling that cotton sack for thirteen years, and it took the dip out of my hips, you know, took the glide out of my stripes. And so, and then I had been laying around in the bathtub on Sunday night, you know, taking a bath on Saturday night, listening to a country music station out of Gaffney, you know, Conway Tweety and the Tweety Birds, and the Earl Haggard and the Strangers, you know, bucking the buckaroos. Nobody told me a soul brother is supposed to listen to soul music. So I made it all the way to thirteen years old, and I'm black and I'm not cool. And I'm a soul brother, and I don't have souls. But that summer I found something that would do the trick. It would induce it instantly. We were playing around. We had a little basketball goal we had there, and we got tired, no air conditioning on the farm. We laid up in the corn crib to cool off and found some of grandpa's liquid corn. Yeah, my friend's grandfather's liquid corn. I think it was Old Crow or Kentucky Gentleman, one of them, you know. And we knew a little bit about the United States Constitution, government, and we voted on it, and the Georgia rule, and we drunk grandpa's liquor. Well, now, 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. 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. I'm going to tell you a story. I'm going to tell you a story. I'm going to tell you a story. About five or ten minutes later, my kneecaps began to tingle. That's right, I'm acquiring soul, slowly but surely. And then I acquired 20-20 vision. I was seeing too everything. I didn't need those glasses no more. And we, like two Baptist boys, knew it was illegal to feel that good. So, I said, I don't want to be seen a little bit. I don't want to have that no and be Baptist. So we hid up under the plum bushes between the house and the church and talked about what we'd do if those Brittany girls came along. They didn't come along, we didn't get to do it, which don't bother me at all now because I didn't know how to do it. But anyway, I knew I had to have some more of that stuff. I didn't know how I was going to get it. But anything that made you feel that good, I got to have some more of it. Now, my next encounter with alcohol is going to make some myself. Now, I had not made wine before, nor have I made wine since. But I knew how to make wine that day. See, I understand cyberspace. I understand computers. I understand the ability to grasp information from nowhere and just have it. I've been doing that a long time. So I bought me up some wild cherries. We moved off the farm then, threatened my sisters, you know, not to make them not tell it. Boiled that stuff up in an old pot on the stove there and let it cool. Poured it in two mason jars. But I didn't have that fermentation process figured out. I knew it had to ferment somehow. And it won't ferment while you're looking at it. It won't do it in the light. It's got to be dark. So I dug a hole in the backyard. Buried my concoction. Went back and sat on the back porch for about five minutes. Got to be ready now. Dug that first one up. Couldn't wait. Drank it. I didn't wait for 172 pounds then. A little stomach was poked out. I was disappointed. It did not produce a high. I couldn't figure out how to get the alcohol in it. Finally, out of frustration, I went to the maids. I went to the medicine cabinet and poured a little Rub-a-Dub in it. And I'll tell you what. I drank that one sometime later. But I'll tell you what. It didn't produce a high either. It produced the worst case of gas I ever had in my life. You know, early in my recovery, an old guy named A.D. Roberts. A.D. was strange. He was a strange old-timer. You never know. You never know he loved you. He used to address that state of mind. He told me one time, he said, Now, boy, you know, I thought it was being nice. I got to the meeting early like they had been telling me to do. When I got to the meeting early, an old A.D. was hanging around the meeting. Comes over with his hand stretched out. He said, Boy, I'm glad to see you. Come on in here. We've diagnosed your problem. I said, Wait a minute. Well, finally, he sees that I'm a little different. I'm young, gifted, and black. And the world probably hates it. That's what he's going to tell me. I know it. But A.D. told me something I don't think I'll ever forget. He said, Boy, you seem to be suffering from malnutrition between the ears. Told me I needed some soul food. And, you know, not being real smart back then, I didn't even insult me. You know, I didn't go through treatment. I didn't get to taper off alcohol on liver. I mean, I was a little bit older. I was a little more young and a little more temperament stuff. So I just didn't know. But about two weeks later, I was mowing my grass. And it came to me. I said, I believe A.D. called me stupid. . . But I thought about that a lot. And A.D. didn't call me stupid. A.D. did something to get my attention, to challenge my thinking process. See, A.D. had noticed something about Dennis Nance that everybody else had. that everybody that knew me up until that point had noticed. They noticed that Dennis Nance was consumed with the illness of alcoholism. See, I'd reached that point in my life where the only way I could feel good is by picking up the very thing that made me feel bad. The only way I thought I could solve my problem is by picking up the very thing that would set the problem in motion again. The only way I dealt with my troubles is by doing the very thing that would get me in deeper trouble. I was on the merry-go-round of alcoholism. That had never been brought to my attention. And see, that's why I need Alcoholics Anonymous. That's why I need a home group. That's why I need a sponsor. That's why I need to be deliberately focused on utilizing the principles contained in the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous on a daily basis. Because I can't seem to see myself as I really am. And I need people like you. To help me see me. But I didn't know that then. I'm headed into high school. With my future ahead of me. Didn't know I could play basketball. I made the first varsity cut as a freshman and it just scared me to death. I have started the high school on a college preparatory track. Expecting to go to college. And excel in athletics. Instead, my alcoholism progressed. So rapidly. That I had drank myself out of that athletic program in two years. Drank myself off a school bus route in a year and 19 days. Drank myself from a college preparatory track to a vocational track to a general track. And barely got out of high school. Fast talking teachers. Laying out of school. Shoplifting and drinking wine. I was confronted with my alcoholism. Four times in my last year. The last two weeks of high school. First by an English teacher. Who said, Dennis, I think you have a drinking problem. I'm thinking, I think you've got a nosy problem. You just teach school. She was a preacher's daughter. Probably knew something about alcoholism. I just wrote that stuff off. I just wrote it off. School teachers don't know anything. I was brilliant at 16, 17 years old. But you know the next three people that said something about alcoholism. About my drinking were classmates. They were 17 years old. Just like me. The first of those was another preacher's daughter. Sylvia. Had her doing my history homework. Dennis, I think you are alcoholic. Now, I mean, now that hurt me. You know, I could handle being a drinking problem. I could handle being a hobo. I could handle being a bum or a wino. But I didn't want to be an alcoholic. But she did my history homework and I graduated. Then there was Linda. Linda Lowe. Who pinned in my annual. Dennis Nance, you're a nice guy. Stay off the booze and everything will be okay. And then there was Janice Morgan. I saw Janice a couple of weeks ago. Janice was always forthright, blunt. She was more or less the moral conscience of the class. She also pinned in my annual. Dennis Nance, someday reality will hit you in the face and you won't know what to do. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It took me 10 more years of drinking to see the Dennis Nance that they saw. And see, that's why I need alcoholics and alcoholics. That's why I need a home group. That's why I need a sponsor. That's why I need to be surrounded by people who love me enough to tell me what they see. Leaving high school, I was mad at everybody. Especially my parents. They were trying to give me the things any loving parent would want to give a kid. Since I've messed up my ability to go to college, they want me to go to vocational school. Go to church. Come in at a reasonable hour. Dad sat me down many times and said, son, you don't have to do anything to live here. Just respect your mama. Give us a little to contribute to the household and you're good to go. I couldn't do that. Couldn't do that. So I went to see my local Army recruiter. They had always told me you'd never be able to join the Army because your eyes are too bad. I went to see my recruiter and I could see his expression on his face as I walked in. He said, I'm going to go to the Army. I said, I'm going to go to the Army. I realize I'm a little late. I picked up and I walked up the sidewalk. When I got in, he said, man, that's the best eyes I've seen in a week. So I said, well, I'm the man you need to see. Well, I was in the Army in short order. Went home, and dad was sitting on the front porch as he did, smoking my cigarettes. And that's what he did. In his pastime, you know, we started smoking. He'd start smoking. We'd move out, he'd quit smoking. You know, if he had to buy me, he wasn't smoking them. So I'm sitting there. And Dad had joined the Army. He said, thanks. I said, son, that's good. You're not doing anything else. Go tell your mother. Well, I knew Mom was going to get excited. She wanted me to take typing. She made up excuses for everything. I come in drunk, she'd make up an excuse. Lose my car keys, make up an excuse for me. Give him another chance. But I joined the Army, and I told Mom, I said, Mom, I joined the Army. She said, no, you didn't, Dennis. I showed her the paper, and she started crying and hollering and rolling all over that bed. And I said, I finally got her back. And I got one. Yeah. Thank you. I said, I finally got her back. And while she was sitting there crying, I went into my bedroom and sat there and listened to her. And, you know, about four weeks later, I was down in Fort Jackson. I was in there crying and hollering and rolling all over my bed. I was there. I did that a lot. And I got those phone bills with six-second hang-ups on them where I'd call home and start crying and hang up. But the Army was good to me. It seems like the Army likes big belligerent, sorry, self-centered drunks, and so I made rank fast. I only did six months in Vietnam, came back to the 212 group for a year, did 40 months on the Czechoslovakian border, two years as a drill sergeant, and I'm out. Eight years on active duty. Well, coming back from Vietnam, I didn't realize it, but I went into nuclear weapons. I remember a first sergeant telling me, Dennis, you'll never have to work again if you just keep your nose clean. But I couldn't do it. I began to drink backwards. I began to drink stuff like Thunderbird, Mad Dog, and Night Train during the week and taper off something light like Boone's Farm or Annie Green Springs during the weekend. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. I don't think. But I began to get arrested and get cited for drinking-related infractions of the law. I won't bore you with the details, but I had five of them. The first one ended up resulting in me being assigned to Germany because you cannot be in nuclear weapons or be an alcoholic. So to keep me from being convicted of a drinking-related charge, I got sent to Germany. I got sent to Germany. Well, in Germany. I was sent to Germany. Well, in Germany. I got three more. They covered them up, slid them to the side, and eventually fined me $50 one time to keep me from going to jail in Germany. But when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, my reality was so distorted that I had forgotten about those things. I look back, and there are two definites that I see. One, as my alcoholism progressed, my concept of God seemed to deteriorate. And as my alcoholism progressed, my ability to be honest deteriorated. So when I got to you and you asked me, Dennis, have you ever been arrested for a drinking-related charge? My answer was, of course, no. Because in my mind, if I was not convicted of it, I didn't do it. It took me about three years in Alcoholics Anonymous to get healthy enough to accept and assume the responsibility for all that stuff. And that's when my alcoholism began to really impact me. Well, coming back, making this transition out of the Army was a problem for me. See, I knew that the Army was right on my case, getting ready to catch up with me. Libra had been on my case for a long time. So the Army's way of doing it was sending me to an unaccompanied, two-or-two career. Libra's way of doing it is divorcing me while I'm gone. And so now, look, I know when people are trying to get rid of me, so I just say I'm getting out. I was up for two discharges at the same time. So we start transitioning out of the Army. Bring Libra back to North Carolina, and I go out to Oklahoma, and I begin to drink like I want to drink with the wife and kids gone. And things begin to happen rapidly. I begin to wake up in places. I've never been with people that I don't know, doing things I had never done before. And enjoying some of them, I might add, you know. The house barely escaped foreclosure on the house. A kind gentleman bought that house and kept it from going into foreclosure. Salvaged $4,400 out of a $21,000 house. It's easy looking back. In 1977, we got off the planes from Germany. We were entirely debt-free. We had just paid off all the credit cards. Why? We had all the credit cards. We bought a small parcel of land in North Carolina and went back out to Oklahoma and bought a house out there. And we're just kids, like 23, 24 years old. And here we are, roughly 24 months later, we're absolutely bankrupt financially. And it took some time in Alcoholics Anonymous before my wife and I, and in our non-perspective, we quit fighting about this stuff. See, the first thing is, that 20, after salvaging that $4,400, I sent Libra $1,300 of it and promptly drank myself into a blackout and woke up broke. Don't know what happened to that money. And I didn't understand blackouts when I got here. Couldn't explain that. And that just gnawed away at me all the time. So I got back in North Carolina. I came back to North Carolina. I came back to North Carolina like a good drunk's supposed to, drinking wine and writing bad checks. And got here, and Libra says, where's the money? Well, I can't tell her where the money is. So we have a big argument and a big fight. And she gets in the car, and she says, well, I got a house in Greensboro. I'm leaving you anyway. And she got in the car, and she drove off. Well, I got in the other car, and I followed her. You know, if you're going to leave me, I'm going to see you do it. You know? And she gets the Greensboro. She gets the job the same week. I apply for one job a day. If I'm not hired, my next stop is a liquor store on Church Street. I don't have time to be begging people for jobs. I'm a businessman. I just don't have business yet. You know, I am. Well, eventually, I get a job at a local prison unit. And I start getting promoted real quick again, because I come in drunk on first year, and I'm not going to be able to get a job. And they put me on second year. Well, second year was a little better, because I could get to work on time. Now, sometimes I wasn't in real good shape when I got there, but I got there. But I couldn't go home. I got off at 10 o'clock at night. And what rational drunk is going to go home at 10 o'clock at night when he's already out of the house? Just keep going, man, and you won't have to. And that's what I did. Well, I got put on third year. And third year was where I wanted to be. That way I could drink all day, work all night, maximize my time. But I started having alcoholic hallucinations there in the dormitory. I started seeing little fuzzy things crawling across the baseboard. And these guys couldn't see them. See, my eyesight had got pretty good by the end. I could see stuff they couldn't see. And I'd see bubbles floating through there, and stuff like that. And eventually, these people in prison started signing petitions and writing grievances trying to have me fired. And mind you, some of these people were psychotic. Some of these people were pre-sentence diagnostic, didn't know what they were in prison for, but they're trying to get me fired. I've surmised that when you're so sick, crazy people don't want to be around you. You're in bad shape, you know. 1980, I was invited. I was invited back home for a Thanksgiving dinner. And I got back to the Thanksgiving dinner, and I found out that they had assembled the family to find out what they were going to do with me. And they asked me about my alcoholism, my mother and my sisters. And they asked me about going to a Veterans Administration facility, and they asked me about talking to the minister at the church. And I promptly cussed them out. Started a big fight. See, because I was sure at this time that God was out to get me. Just didn't think he liked me very much. He seemed to work well for other people, seemed to help them prosper, but he just didn't seem to do a lot for me. So, if you're going to win those fights, you've got to cuss them out and leave. And I did. And I woke up out of what I know now to be my second recognizable blackout, headed back to Greensboro, headed back home. That night, I had that moment of clarity that we hear a lot about in Alcoholics Anonymous. For some reason, I reflected back on my time in Germany, around 1975. My wife's uncle had gotten sober in this strange thing called Alcoholics Anonymous. Nobody knew much about it. They just knew that Dan was sober. Dan was the town drunk when I was growing up. And we got letters from two or three family members. Said Dan had quit drinking. He was caught in the heavy again. Had gone back to school. He was going to some kind of school. Had gone to meetings. And he was working in the Chapel Hill area in the college community. I said, I'll just call Dan and ask him about this thing called alcoholism when I get there. Of course, when I got home, I could quit alone. I didn't need Dan to call me, so I just didn't call. But Dan called me. I think God had begun to work in my life a long time before I realized it. Dan came by. And he said, and being nice, I said, Dan, come on in. Make yourself at home. He did. Dan just pulled off his shoes, laid down on my sofa, and went to sleep. I hated people that could do that. I went out to check my car, meandering around. See, I'm cooking Sunday dinner, hoping that my wife won't leave me. And on the way back in, I look in the back windshield of Dan's car, and he has an old faded out book. Didn't know it was a big book at the time, but I could make out Alcoholics Anonymous on it. Had pages in it were brown. The book looked like it was out, fairly worn out. Had some pamphlets in there on alcoholism. And immediately I tried to get in Dan's car, because I would have stole that book if I had gotten in that car. So I went in and asked Dan about it. But Dan, just tell me about this thing called alcoholism, and what did I do that for? Dan talked for what seemed like two hours. Probably no more than ten minutes. And finally Dan said, well, dinner's a five dollar number. Will you talk? I said, Big Dan, if you just shut up, I'll talk. You know what I mean? And I talked to a guy named James. James wanted me in his office at 9 o'clock Monday morning. I went down there. James gave me a little 20 question test. I made 100 on it. I could take tests pretty well. And he talked with me freely about his alcoholism. Talked about being locked up. Talked about neglecting his family, neglecting his health, abusing his family. Talked about being locked up. Talked about neglecting his family, neglecting his health, abusing his family. Talked about being locked up. Talked about neglecting his family, neglecting his health, abusing his family. Abusing his kids. Being charged time and time again for the same alcohol related crime. And I didn't trust him. I had never heard anybody talk about themselves like that. I said, I'm not telling this guy anything. He'll probably have me arrested after I start talking. But I wanted out of there bad. I was uncomfortable. So he talked for a while and he said, Dennis, if you're going to stay sober you're going to need this book. He gave me a brand new big one. And before I could get out the door, the door, he said, well, wait a minute. He said, Dennis, do you think your wife and your kids will come in for counseling? Well, I knew they would come in for counseling. I knew Lever was ready to get in front of anybody that would listen to her about my drinking. And my kids was just, I think, five and seven. You can't trust kids that young. They'll tell the truth if you're not careful, you know. So I thought maybe they'd be down there telling my business. And I didn't want anybody knowing my business. I've learned since then that drunks don't have any business. And if they got any, you give them a drink, they'll tell you their own business, you know. Give them any more than that, they'll tell you your business. They know it. So Lever just started going to Al-Anon. And the kids went to a couple of counseling sessions, and Dennis slid into Al-Ateen when he was nine years old. But the family dynamics changed. Lever got real bossy. I'm going to Al-Anon on Monday night. And if you want to go anywhere else, especially to an open-air meeting, you need to take the kids. You're their father. It's about time you do that. My type, it was a starting argument. And while she's crying and snorting and all that stuff, I just get in the car and ease on out and stay going all night. But she had got to where she would not respond to my little smart remarks. She'd just back out of the car and go right on to Al-Ateen. And then, maybe a couple of months later, she does it again. This time, she wants to go to retreats, workshops. Dennis, I'm going to Bonadun. What's Bonadun? It's an Al-Anon retreat. How much does that cost? She tells me, Lever, we can't afford that. I said, Dennis, I've been living with you. Can't afford not to. She gets in the car and leaves. So, she's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. She's going to Al-Anon. So, I'm driving down here. I drive past the White Oak retreat. That was a big deal back then. Dennis, I'm going to White Oak. What is that? It's an Al-Anon retreat. Don't y'all have meetings like we have? Yeah. But this is a whole weekend. How much does that cost? She tells me, Lever, can't afford it. Can't afford not to. Gone again. I'm there with these little nail-biting discipline problems I've raised. Didn't even know them. So, I'm breaking out of the house and learning how to make up beds, clean up house, do a little cooking. Good for me. Didn't know it was at the time. Got so frustrated, I started hanging around these AA meetings. Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing me drink. So, I started going to AA meetings. I like those meetings where the coffee pot and the doughnuts are all in the same corner. That way, you don't have to walk much, you know. But as soon as the Lord's Prayer was said, I was out of there. I was out of there. I didn't want people hugging on me, telling me to keep coming back. I didn't want to be there in the first place. And, but after about two weeks, I got to feeling sorry for y'all. You guys are powerless over alcohol and your life had become unimaginable. I said, these people can't drink wine like me. That's what's wrong with them. And then, I couldn't take step two because it implied that I might be insane, or at least my behavior might be indicative of me being insane. I couldn't take that step because I was not insane. So, I went on to step three. Well, see, step three had God in it. So, I ain't ready to deal with God yet because He don't like me. I go on to step four. See, I didn't get skipped through schools. I'm skipping through the steps, you know. By that time, people are noticing me. How you doing, Dennis? You've been around a while now. Yeah, sure. Been around two or three weeks now. Have you got a sponsor yet? No, I haven't got a sponsor. Well, you know, I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. I've got a sponsor. You need to get a sponsor because the sponsor can take you through the steps, and that way you're transitioning and not just not drinking, but truly learning how to live sober. I said, well, I'm already taking the steps. I'm on step four already. I said, no, Dennis, you cannot take these steps without a sponsor. You need to take these steps under the guidance of a sponsor. I said, okay. So, I started looking for a sponsor. It didn't look hard. I'm making one whole meeting a week now, you know. So, I go back to the meeting Monday night, and the sponsor patrol is out again. Have you got a sponsor yet? No, I haven't. Have you thought about James? No, I haven't thought about James. Well, James is 6'9", weighs about 350. His afro is bigger than me. I don't want him to be my sponsor. Come back next Monday night. Have you got a sponsor yet? No, I haven't got a sponsor. I'm thinking about changing home groups. I think I'm going to go over to Eastside where they don't harass people about sponsorship so bad, you know. Well, I go over to Eastside and Margaret Galloway walks in. Sits down right beside me and looks at me and says, you ain't mean. I've heard about you. If you got a sponsor. No, I ain't got a sponsor yet. Then Libra finds out. Dennis, have you got a sponsor? No, I don't have a sponsor. I thought, well, if that's big a deal, I'll start looking. But I couldn't find anybody black enough. Couldn't find anybody cool enough. Couldn't find a Vietnam veteran who had a good sense of humor. Couldn't find anybody who was a good sense of humor. Couldn't find anybody who was a good sense of humor. Couldn't find anybody who was a good sense of humor. Couldn't find anybody who was a good sense of humor. Couldn't find anybody who invited me or invited me by questions. Couldn't find anybody who was going toASA. We'll battle it ourselves. At the African Academy of English cognates. At that time, I had got about prob it's around 20 gentlemen from minnichamber. voir membrane Epidermi and chord bakın. Over in the 80's, I worked as an audit service. In Radio Haven, we were rough dung hunters in America. I had eight point two months time in service and been married nine point two years with two kids. Something's wrong with everybody. So I did the only logical thing I know to do is I sponsored myself for a while. Sponsored myself for 81 whole days. Did a good job and easiest time I've ever had in alcoholic nonetheless. I didn't have to go to meetings unless I wanted to. All I did was search wherever I've ever had in alcohol, it's an honor. Didn't have to go to meetings unless I wanted to. Didn't read the book at all. I was reading stuff like Playboy, Esquire, Jet, you know, Essence. Couldn't have felt any sorry for myself. I was at the East Side meeting. I don't know what the speaker was talking about, but I was thinking about how I could use some substitutes. And it occurred to me that marijuana doesn't start with an A. I said, that's right. Got my ink pen out. I said, well, maybe I can use some of that. I said, well, that's not something you do. You know, you just don't make a decision to go out and use alternate substances without talking to your sponsor. And I said, that's right. I better talk to my sponsor. See, that's what I like about this self-sponsorship. You have direct access. So me and my sponsor were riding home. He's in the rearview mirror. And me and my sponsor decided that we ought to use some of these alternate substances. So about two weeks later, me and my sponsor woke up 140 miles from home drunk and naked. And so I had to get back to Greenfield. And I said, well, I'm going to go out and do some change-bearing and hire on some new sponsors here. February 1, 1981, I walked in to the patient seat group of Alcoholics Anonymous. Those old-timers are still sitting back there in my seats. Come here, boy. We've been waiting on you. I go on back there. I said, now, after the meeting, we want to talk to you. We're going to have another little meeting. I said, well, they finally recognized my leadership ability. I felt good about that. I said, I don't drink a little bit, but I guess I'm on the board of directors now. And I went to the meeting after the meeting. And after I got there, I found out I was the subject of the meeting. I asked me some pretty direct questions. I asked me, I said, boy, did you pray the day that you drank? Did you ask God to keep you sober? And I don't know what happened. I had lost my ability to lie. I said, no, I didn't. And, man, I tell you, that felt so good. Because, see, after I, when I tell the truth, I, you know, I didn't have to worry about what lie I was going to cover that lie up with. I didn't have to worry about getting anybody to verify it. And what I like now is, what I think about now is, you know, it doesn't take long to tell the truth. Just one or two words, yes, no, I don't know. But then his response was, now, boy, how do you expect to stay sober five minutes if you don't use this program and the people God has surrounded you with? He said, it's evident to me that you can't keep yourself sober. Now, they said a lot of things that night. See, when they ain't got your insurance money and your mom and daddy's money and your treatment money, they can talk. They can talk to you in a language that you understand. I understood. I left that meeting that night with the basis for my recovery. I've known since that night that Dennis Nance can't keep Dennis Nance sober. I'm going to need Alcoholics Anonymous to do it. I've known since that night that Dennis Nance can't replace his alcohol with any other mood-altering chemical. It's got to be total abstinence for me. That's just for me. Third thing I learned is that Dennis Nance is going to have to effect and maintain a relationship with God as he understands him or as he misunderstands him. And the best way to do that is through these steps. It just happens automatically. Which leads me to the fourth thing. Dennis Nance is going to have to get a sponsor, keep a sponsor, and take the steps under the guidance of that sponsor. Hadn't had a drink since. A lady named Flora Smith knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She know Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knew Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She knows Dennis Nance. She own who she is. And she 만 dios Are not to take the I was praying. I wouldn't think I was praying sober just by myself. But after a while, my prayers changed. I started praying for the courage to pray in my own bedroom. I felt guilty about using the power of God to stay sober and not acknowledging that openly. Libra came home one night from an Al-Anon meeting, frustrated. She said, I've been telling my sponsor I'm going to do something I hadn't been doing. I'm going to start doing it tonight. And she just stormed right down the hall, right on back to the bed. And I thought maybe she had a little Victoria's Secret something laid out back there. So I followed her on back there. Got back there and she had dressed for bed and she was kneeling on the side of that bed praying. And since that day, we've begun to open and close our day with prayer and meditation, sometimes jointly, most of the time separately. But it's a must. Kids somehow just gravitate right into Alateen. So I know the power of A.A., Al-Anon, and Alateen. I know what can happen in a family. Doesn't happen to everybody. But every family member deserves the right to get well. My life has changed so drastically from what I thought it would be in Alcoholics Anonymous that I don't have time to tell you all that. Opportunities that were passed up and drank up reappeared. Been married to the same woman 34 years now. My kids are grown and gone. Libra and I got married so young that we educated ourselves. One would go to school a while, another would go to school a while. And eventually I was able to go back and finish an undergrad and then on to a master's. Second third grade, a out of state. Upstate second grade certificate. My 씨ed is on a Bisa Road Territorial Regènment Race toodi byão towards Ouch., because my mother was skeptical about I was supposed to do and that combos can not worry about it anyway. That one also thought my wife needed to all often again was I did have while working at your whole research program and maintaining the marriage problems, job problems, money problems, car problems. I've had all the problems we have in this program, just good old life problems. I guess sometimes I forget about those problems because they're just so much better. Life is just so much better than it ever was when I was drinking. Sometimes I forget about how hard it was. Even coming down here, I've lost two sisters since being sober, one at 47 and one at 54, both of congestive heart failure. One as recently as March, so settling her estate and going through all that legal stuff. And then another friend was buried and will be buried tomorrow at 11 o'clock, longtime member of Alcoholics Anonymous, dedicated member of Alcoholics Anonymous that helped a lot of people in our area. My first sponsor lost him. Job changes, layoffs, reorganizations. As a matter of fact, I'm on call now. I just got somebody to handle it, so I've got to leave early. I won't be able to stay the whole weekend with you. But you know, all of these problems are problems that I used to wish I had when I was drinking. And this program gives us a proven way to work through those problems. Life is good. Life today is good, pretty good. I have a job where I'm able to be of service to God's people most of the time on most days. And I think sometimes about my grandkids. I learn a lot from my grandchildren. They know how to live life a day at a time. They know how to ask for help when they need it. They know where help is. They know how to go to it. And they seem to do it naturally. My oldest granddaughter, I think, is training to be an Al-Anon. Came home from AA one night, and she was already dead. I walked in. She just jumped up off the couch. Hey, Big D, how you doing? That's what my friends call me. And then my son jumped up, and he said, don't call your grandfather that. You call him Grandpa. Well, she comes up to the bedroom after I get undressed and says, hey, Papa, I know your real name. I just can't say it. Then another time I come in, and she says, she says, Papa, we're going to have ice cream and cake after we eat dinner. But I've already looked in the refrigerator, and we don't have any ice cream and cake. So I'll go with you to get some. It's like, yeah, you're going to make something drunk on the ice white. Then there's cute little Inez, left-handed and gifted, photostatic memory. And she's just as manipulative as she can be. Talks nonstop. Don't know where she gets that from. I'd pick them up on Friday afternoon. I was off on Fridays back then when I first moved to Charlotte or Greenville. And I'd pick them up, and so I'd be with them all day Friday, most of the day Saturday. And by Saturday, I'm worn out. Inez has just talked me out, you know. So I sneak up to get a nap. And Inez sneaks up, too. While I'm sleeping, she's on the side of the bed talking. And she wakes me up. Papa, I don't go to sleep. She starts back talking. I start back sleeping. She wakes me up again. Well, about the third time, I wake up, and she's laying right on my chest just looking at me. I said, what are you up to now, Gary? She says, Papa, I like you. I said, well, Gary, you just paid your college tuition. You know, just pick up your phone. You got the college you want. Go on when you want to go. And then old Chris arrives on the scene, my grandson. For some reason, he likes AA chips. He doesn't know the difference between those and money. And he got all the way to Sunday school one time with a handful of AA chips. Yes, he thought they were quarters. And was glad to display them. Just, you know, when kids get something, they just can't keep their hands in their pockets. They just can't keep their hands in their pockets. When he finally got it out, that's what it was. Well, Chris is sole purpose for hanging around me is two deals. He just wants to ride in a pickup truck, and he wants to ride on that lawn tractor. That's all he wants. He loves Sunday school. But when Sunday school's over, in his head, church is over. And before he goes to this class, he said, Papa, when we finish, we're going home to ride the tractor. Now, we don't do it every Sunday. But on some Sundays, Chris and I just go home and ride the tractor. You can get some good riding time in while all those church folk occupy it, you know. Good solitude. And I believe that God sometimes will have me connecting with my son, my grandson. I just think that's the way it is sometimes. You know, the most important thing, this program has given me is a relationship with the God of my understanding. That relationship has solidified. That relationship is the basis for every other relationship in my life. If that one is intact, everything else will take care of itself. So much so that the same church that I rejected in the middle of my alcoholism, recently asked me to serve on the deacon board. You know, it's a long way from the liquor house back to the church. It's a long way from the liquor store back to the deacon board. Now, why did all this happen? I didn't plan that. It happened because of the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. I would hope at this stage of my recovery that I wouldn't have to tell everybody or anybody else that I was going to serve. I wouldn't have to tell anybody or anybody else that I was going to serve. I wouldn't have to tell anybody how many people I sponsor, where I talk, where I'm going, what I'm doing, how many floors I mop. I hope that people would see some godliness in me when they meet me. I hope today that I will become as good an example of Alcoholics Anonymous as those old-timers showed me when I first got here. It provided so much hope, so much encouragement. And I thank you all for that. God bless you, and have a nice weekend. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.