Staying Connected to the Fellowship Has to Be Number One Or the Drink Comes Back — ILA R.

Let's have an AA meeting. My name's Tim R. and I'm an alcoholic. Welcome to the Monday Night Blue Chip Speakers meeting on Navazoom, where a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, with one year or more of sobriety, tells his or her story. Each individual in our personal stories describes in their own language and from their own point of view the way they established their relationship with God. These give a fair cross-section of our membership and a clear-cut idea of what has happened in their lives. We hope no one will consider these self-revealing accounts in bad taste. Our hope is that many alcoholic men and women in our Navazoom room tonight and listening later on aabluechipspeakers.org desperately invite you to join us. The need will hear tonight's speaker, and we believe it is only by fully disclosing ourselves and our problems that any of us shall be persuaded to say, yes, I am one of them too. I must have this thing. And tonight we have Isla Running Deer, T.F., as our speaker. And she has broken out. Her Nava Club 50th Anniversary T-shirt, the first time she has worn it, is a winner. She's been saving it for this occasion. We're so happy that she's going to be our speaker. I can tell by all the happy smiling faces. So I'm just going to turn it over to this lady, and you're in good hands. Jim, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. My name is Isla, and I'm an alcoholic, and I'm so grateful to be sober today, and I'm so glad that you're here sober today, because God works through people. And the ones who drove me along at the beginning are mostly, they're mostly going to that big meeting in the sky. So today I've been blessed. I'm blessed with you. And Kelly, I'm so glad you came. You don't normally come to this meeting. I'm so happy to see you. All of you, thank you. My sobriety date is October 24 of 89. I'm a member of the 130 Think It Through Sober group. And the most important date, there are two very important dates. I'm a member of the 130 Think It Through Sober group, and the most important date, there are two very important dates in my life. And one of those most important dates is April 3, 1975, which is not my sobriety date, but it was the day that I got to Alcoholics Anonymous and NABA. And I don't pick up a chip for that date, but that is the day that my life changed. And even though I drank again in 89 after two weeks shot, 14 years, the day that I celebrate, there's two of them. The day I met my son and the day that my life changed because of Alcoholics Anonymous. And it was at NABA. But I'm going to go back And the last time I told my story, I was so scattered that I swore I would never do it again. But, you know, I take comfort in knowing that I couldn't be worse, that I do a worse job than I did the last time. And what I have done, I'm going to try to go through this chronologically, because there are huge, huge portions of my childhood that I simply don't remember. I mean, years that I simply don't remember. And then, when I started drinking at age 18, I was a blackout drinker from the beginning. So, there are really a lot of gaps. And what I can put together. But, I do know, and I've got lots of notes, I was born into an alcoholic home. But, it was a sharecropper's shack. And this was December 27, 1943, when I was born. And I used to tell people that the reason my personality was so warped was because it was because of all that Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday shit, right? But, it was, it was, it was, it was a shack. It did not have indoor plumbing. And one of the most horrific memories that I can remember. But, it's a good way to let you know of what it was like, as I was probably six years old, and I was out, I'm the seventh of eight children, had five older brothers, one older sister, and then, later, my baby sister, Jan, was the one, when I was about seven. And I was probably about six at this time. And I was out on the toilet. And when you don't sit in an outhouse, you squat. You climb up there and squat. You know what I'm talking about, Jenny? You're acting as if you might know what I'm talking about. And, I hope yours was better kept, but there was like a million maggots at the bottom, and the stench was unbelievable. And, I don't know. And, I was, as I said, I was about six, and I was always terrified that I would fall through. But, I was sitting there, and something came out of my little butt. And, it was long, and it was white, and it was alive. And, I started screaming. And, my sweetest brother, even though he didn't live there anymore. He came. And, here he is. He's Seaburn. He was my sweetest brother. And, he heard me screaming. And, he came with two sticks, and pulled it out, and threw it down there among the millions of maggots. And, do you know that was never mentioned? Nothing was ever talked about in my household. It was scoffed at. It was made fun of. And, we didn't talk about anything important. Never. And, so that was it, you know. And, it was caused, I learned as an adult, from eating contaminated food. And, it was a tapeworm. I was a very skinny, pitifully shy little kid. And, started at school. At five. And, I knew nothing. And, I started at five only because of when my birthday fell. But, every day at recess, I would beg my sister, Audrey. Audrey was my, the closest thing to a mother I had. Because, daddy was alcoholic. But, it was periodic. And, I guess it was like when the props were brought in. Blah, blah, blah. And, we would make one order of the Sears Roebuck catalog. And then, once a year. Once a year. And, then that catalog would go to the outhouse. And, there were no books in the house. But, I felt so ashamed. Because, I knew that everybody didn't live well. And, there was never enough food. And, it was extreme deprivation. And, then when my little sister came along. But, I'm skipping ahead of myself. As I said at the beginning, God works through people. And, dogs. But, there were always just enough people to get me through. No matter what. You know, before I got to AHA, I had all of you. But, in the meantime, I always had enough people. And, I had an Aunt Maddie. And, I think everybody, hopefully, had an Aunt Maddie. And, I would go stay with her a week in the summertime. And, on her dinner table, it was a feast. There would be not one meat. There would be pork, chicken, and beef. And, about a thousand fresh vegetables. And, I would eat until I would throw up. And, my Aunt Maddie loved me. And, I knew that she did. Because, she would make me a brand new dress out of a flower sack. And, not only was it a new dress made especially for me. It always had some rickety. Or, some rake, or some buttons, or something very special. And, there was also the visit from my brother. My oldest brother. My brothers escaped as soon as they could through the U.S. Army. And, my oldest brother, Cecil, came to town. Again, I was about six. And, he came home. He had re-enlisted. He was a non-commissioned officer. And, he had come to town. And, actually, this is really my only memory of him. And, the next time that I saw him was in a coffin. But, I'm jumping ahead of this wonderful story. When he came home, he looked at me and he said, Are those your best shoes? And, I said, Boy, they're my only shoes. And, my brother, Cecil, took me to town, which was Scottsboro, Alabama, up in the northeast corner. He bought me new shoes. And, I was so happy to be walking and holding the hand of this gorgeous, tall soldier in his uniform. One of the best memories ever. And, I knew about hard work because I worked in the fields picking cotton and doing all that stuff. And, missing a lot of school. And, then when my... So, I knew about hard work. I knew about shame. And, I knew deprivation. And, I have heard a lot of people talk about how they were so poor when they were little. They didn't know it. I knew it. I knew it. And, hard work was valued above all else. And, the shame that I felt. Because, not only were we so poor. And, then Daddy would be drunk and violent. And, it was a rough childhood. And, then when my little sister came along, I learned about responsibility. As I said, she was about... I was about seven when she was born. And, I became her primary caretaker. Just like Audrey. Even though Mama worked really, really hard. At the house and in the fields. She always had some menial job outside too. So, Audrey raised me. And, basically I raised my little sister again. And, did I say that she had Down syndrome? And, she was the love of my life. And, I had a sister-in-law who took care of her after my Mama died. And, she said she couldn't remember me as a little kid without Jan on my hip. But, when I... It had to be... I was born in 43. I was born in 43. And, the oldest brother was killed, Cecil, in the Korean War. And, it had to be from 50 to 53. And, I'm not sure about the time. Because, those are the dates of the war. And, his body was escorted home by his younger brother by one year, Hubert. And... We had a military funeral. And, it was the most beautiful, impressive thing I'd ever seen at that point. And, because of his giving his all, Mama was the beneficiary. And, I think it was $10,000 that the government put on my brother. And, you know, in those days, you could buy a house for $10,000. And, they did. So, my junior high school was much, much better. Because, we had a house with indoor plumbing. And, it was two-story. And, it had a huge bathroom. And, so things were better financially. And, I didn't... It was just better. As I said, I have... It was when we had moved into that house that... I think it must have been about time for me to go into junior high. And, there was no religion. I mean, we didn't... Nothing important was ever talked about. It was stopped at and left out. And, I learned very, very early to pretend that I didn't care anyway. It didn't matter to me. I was tough. I was hard. I was... I didn't care. And, I cared deeply, of course. In junior high school, I also had... Hilda Fears was doing God's work. She was a history teacher. And, quite the character. But, she saw me. And, I know you know how important that is. For a teacher to see you. And, I was also seen by my English teacher, whose name I can't remember. But, he was probably the first man I'd ever met who had twin fingernails. You know, I'm talking about rough living. And... And, that home was lost in my junior year in high school. Because, Mama was a good money manager. Daddy was not. That... So, when I graduated high school, we were back in a... Back in a rental house. In high school, I was probably 13 before I really looked up. But, when I learned to read... That is something to this day that I put on gratitude lists. I can read. And, that changed my life and my world. And... I felt very, very different. I was... You know, children can be cruel. So, that added to the roughness of the elementary school. But, it's almost 9 o'clock. And, I'm still in elementary school. Oh, Lord. High school. They... I didn't... If I wanted any money, I would still have to, quote, hire out. But, I didn't have to work our own fields for the landowner. And... The people... The students in junior and senior high school, they were kind. They never teased me about my ill-fitting. And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... And... I had a very Sally Fields moment when they, by a popular vote, voted me the senior class of beauty. But instead of thanking them and telling them how happy they had made me, I went in the bathroom. I didn't thank anybody. I went in the bathroom and cried because, you know, they like me. They really do. And, but I didn't express that because I didn't know how to express important things. Now, you know, I've always had kind of, I could always bullshit with you, you know, before or after a meeting, but no, no, no. So, when I graduated high school, I didn't know it at the time, but I was pregnant. There was this guy named Carl who was five or six years my senior. I thought that I was in love with him. And he, I was a virgin at 17. And when I found out that I was pregnant, he had moved on. And I learned later somebody else was pregnant, too. And I was on my own. So, it was, and I knew about work. And I got it. I got a job. I had come to Atlanta to break the news to him. I'd gotten a ride with somebody. And so, I knew about hard work. And immediately when I knew that he was having none of it, it was total abandonment. I've got a job with what used to be Southern Bell as a telephone operator. But I was sick. I mean, physically throwing up sick. The whole nine months. And I'm sure that was probably as much psychological as it was physical. But when I was going, I don't know what I thought I was going to do, but I knew I'd have to have a job. So, but I got sick on the bus and had to get off the bus and go for a walk. And I wrote a letter to my brother, Billy. He was the one that I really grew up with. He was about three years. He was only 20. When I think about it, he was only about 20. And it was 59 years ago today that Billy drove from Chicago and took me back to Chicago with him. And he and his, at that time, wife, Pauline, lived on South Halstead. And I don't know if you know, but that's a bad, bad part of town. And it was a furnished third-story walk-up. And I slept on their couch. And I turned 18 on December 27th. And my son was born January 5th. So, I was just legal to sign the papers. And I know you're all asking what's this got to do with. Alcoholism, because at that point, I had never had a drink. Because I did not want to be like my daddy, like my brothers, like my cousins, like my older sister. I didn't want to be like that. And somehow, intuitively, I knew that if I drank, I would be exactly like them. And so, I did not drink until. When I came back to Alabama, shortly after I had signed the adoption papers, Mom and Daddy had moved to an even lesser place in the back of a service station where they lived. And I was in the bedroom crying. And it was really open. And my little sister, Janice, I heard her say to Mama, Mama, I was crying. And Mama said, what just happened? And I think, I'm not sure, but that's the last time I remember crying until I had been in AA about three or four months. And I finally, my heart had started to thaw. The nearest place to get a job was Chattanooga, Tennessee. So, I went to Chattanooga, Tennessee. About a week after returning, and it was still January, and I lived at YWCA and got a job at Signal Media Mills, and I hated that, and so I left one day, and I knocked on doors, and I got a job at one of those small loan companies, just a hole in the wall kind of place. And it was an office job. And I learned I hated that, too, but it was an office job, and I didn't have oil on my glasses and in my hair from sewing up the feet of pajamas. So, I thought that was a step up. And I worked there. That was where I learned to drink, was at the loan office place. And the very first night, and I think at this point, I think there had been so much. There had been so much shame that it just didn't matter, and I started drinking in earnest because, again, I had just turned 18 and blackouts already, and then I got fired from that job, and I had been thrown out. This all happened in two years. Between March 7th. Birth, my son's birth, and Eastern Airlines. It was two years. There were three jobs. I had been evicted from the YWCA for drinking. I had been evicted from the next place, which was the Young Women's Christian Temperance Association. And generally, there was a man involved. I know there was in that instance. So, on the third job, I was living, which was with a paper company, and I was living with my sister, Audrey, and her husband, and their children had moved to Chattanooga, and I was living with them. So, I would do anything to get out of this job, and there were the people who saved me at the job was Marie and Mark, who owned the place. And he was a mentor, and he had also loaned me money to go to Eastern Airlines Training School. And how I got there was I had quit the job at the paper company because I hated it, but I would go. I would do anything to get out of the office. So, I would take Monk to the airport, and Monk would... At that time, they... Let you go on the plane, and blah, blah, blah. And all the security wasn't available at that time. So, I had quit my job at the paper company, and then I was reading this paper that they were hiring stewardesses, as they were commonly called back in the day, though the company always called us flight attendants. So, my first flight was from Chattanooga. Chattanooga to Miami for my second interview, and that was a whole other world. And I loved the freedom. I loved not being stuck in a field or in office. And the trouble with trouble is that it starts out being fun, right? And I was drinking like crazy, but it seemed like everybody... And I was drinking like crazy, but it seemed like everybody was, and I'm going to jump back to Tennessee for just a minute, but Marie had made me, because I couldn't say no to her any more than I can say no to Tim. Marie had made me be in a Miss Chattanooga pageant, and it was 18 or 19, and I don't remember which. I think it was 19. I was 19 years old. And she had a daughter who was going to be in it. And at the finals, the women that I lived with at the Women's Christian Temperance Association before I got kicked out, they had promised to bring me whiskey backstage before the finals, and they didn't. And they didn't. And I... I think that to this day is why I'm so terrified of being on stage. I was horribly unprepared. I was unrehearsed, and I was just frozen. And I know, looking back and trying to hit this in some semblance of order, I was, within a year, psychologically dependent on alcohol. So... So, I loved the new life. I loved that uniform, which was Don Loper. Don't get me started on clothes. But he was the designer of the day. And that uniform cost more money than I had been spent on my wardrobe in my whole entire life. And... And I had... Probably the first physical I'd ever had in my entire life. And I learned that I was still anemic and malnourished from being a kid. Okay. So, that was fun. That was a lot of fun in the beginning. And then, what we used to do was... And I... I got married when I was 24. I was 24, and so was he. And that marriage... That marriage lasted for three years. It was... And he... I got an emergency transfer. I'm sorry, I'm getting mixed up. I got an emergency transfer to Atlanta after three years of marriage. Because, in those days, they had real-life crew schedulers. Not just a computer. And they had seen my vain attempts to hide my black eyes and stuff like that. And I was a drunk. And he... We were both terribly emotionally immature. But it was actually his mother, before we got married, was the first one. I was age 23 when I met her. Uh... She was the first one. He came from a very affluent, wealthy family. And, um... She was the first one to say, I don't want you to marry my son. She said, A, you're not Catholic. B, you're... You don't want children. And you have a drinking problem. She was the first one to say it to my face. And I couldn't deny it. I knew she was true. So... So, um, Eddie was on my amends list because I broke his heart with my drinking. And I'll go, if time allows, I'll go. So, I got the emergency transfer in 1971 to transfer from D.C. to Atlanta. And I went out on a four-day trip. And I got back to Washington National. And I left with my suitcase and my car and my emergency transfer. And I drove to Atlanta. And that was 1971. And that was the same year my daddy died. And on the drive, I didn't stop except to go to the bathroom and get gas. And, um... I felt like a failure. I felt nobody would ever... I felt nobody would ever... I felt nobody would ever love me again. I would never love anybody again. And I had failed at marriage. And that was when the drinking really got serious. And that was when... The only time in my life I've ever been promiscuous, but I was promiscuous. I was looking for somebody to help me make it through the night. If y'all remember that song. And it was, um... Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years ago. It had to be seventy-four that I had two DUIs. They let me go a long time. They said, let me go. They would just say, go home, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. But when I got that first DUI, it wasn't three months until I got the second one. And I am so grateful today. I'll tell you that I didn't have a DUI. Uh, excuse me, that I didn't kill anybody. And, um, that last one, when I came to, I had a roommate named Joan who drank, quote, the same way I did. And she also came with me to my... She always got... She was the one who always got me out of jail. And, um, that last one, they had put me in solitary confinement. And it was in full... And it was in full... It was in Fulton County, making DeKalb look like a picnic in comparison. Um, the... When I came to, I got out of jail that morning. And what I learned was they had... They didn't have cell phones then. And this one woman... And I was the only white person in the pen, right? And this one woman kept talking on the phone. And I went over to her. And I yanked it out of her hand because I had a bad headache. And I was withdrawing. And I didn't have good sense. And it was the only time in my life I think it was like I felt I wanted to fight. But there was a guard, a woman, who knew, in retrospect, that if she didn't get me out of there, those women would either kill me or hurt me very badly. And so... It was taken to what I later learned. It was the coldest place I've ever been. Put me in a uniform. And it wasn't a cell they put me in. It was not much bigger than a phone booth. There was no toilet. There was no ball. And it was so cold I thought I would die. And I learned later that that's... They called us the icebox. And that's where they put people who were withdrawing and under arrest. And... I'm so grateful. I'm so grateful that most of my foolishness happened before everybody had a cell phone. But when... I remember getting out of jail that morning. And there was a line of men and there was a line of women. And some... I guess he was a cutie. I don't remember. But he mouthed me, What do you like to drink? I left with that man who I couldn't identify if he was one of you. And... That's all I remember. Except when I came to at about 3 a.m. the following morning. I guess 24 hours plus had passed. And I came to and I was the only person in that big house. And I knew that Joan's parents had been visiting from Thomaston. So we put this off. But when I came to in that house. And not knowing again. What had happened. And... That was... I think that was one of the moments that got me to ask for help. Because I knew I was an alcoholic. And I had tried to quit drinking. And I could not. I had tried all the books. And at... So what I learned is that the only reason they caught us. They came... And took him. Whoever he might be. Back to jail. And the only reason they didn't take me back was because Joan's parents begged the cops. Don't take her. She lives here. I always had people in my life to help me. And I didn't realize it until... Well, I realize it today. And you're it. So... I don't remember... I do remember at age 28 calling Alcoholics Anonymous. And they said, what's your name and where do you live? And I very quickly hung up. And I said, I thought this was an anonymous program. I know now that they were probably going to try and direct me to a meeting. But that was when I started praying. And I called myself agnostic. Because at about age... Well, I had gone to church one day. And of course it was a Baptist church. And because I doubted what that man was saying. I guess I thought that made me an agnostic. But looking back over the years, I know I never was agnostic. Because as it says on a certain page about... We always had this idea of God no matter what. And we always found that in the final analysis, we found God deep down within. Because in the last analysis, it's only there that he can be found. Well, I was praying because I had reached the point... I couldn't... I used to have a great, great tolerance. And then I had no tolerance. And then I could maybe drink... A glass of wine and I'd be drunk. And then I would drink a fifth of scotch. And I so desperately wanted oblivion. And I couldn't get there either. I couldn't get drunk and I couldn't get sober. And at this point, I lived alone. I still had a job. Not because I hadn't been caught drinking on the job. I remember, as I said, the first time when I was psychologically dependent on alcohol. I was 18 or 19. And then I remember being on the airplane. I was based in Atlanta. So I know it was after 71. And I can remember I was working the senior position. It was about 10 o'clock in the morning. And as senior, I was working for... And I looked around at all of the coffee cups. And they were... I'd served breakfast. This was light-layered, number three. And I saw all those coffee cups were empty. And people wanted me to fill the coffee cups and take our trays. But I stood there and my hands were shaking so badly. I knew that I could not. So I had reached a total state of physical... And psychological dependence on alcohol. And what started out as fun, like mixing a big water pitcher full of Bloody Marys. And the whole crew, the cabin crew, not the cockpit. But it started out being fun. But then for years, I drank on the job because I had to. And sometimes it would be in the hotel room before checking in for a flight. But I couldn't count on that. And very often it would be in a paper cup. So this went on. I never... I was never a social drinker. I went straight from what I had feared. From being a teetotaler to... In six years, I was... I knew I was alcoholic. And I didn't really start trying to get sober. I mean, willing to go to any... With the kind that requires... You know, it says, no human could have relieved our alcoholism. It's true in my case. And I started to pray. And at this point, people who drank like me didn't want anything to do with me. Because I was an embarrassment. And I'd be in a blackout and I would... I didn't remember. I didn't remember. But the last roommate I had... Before coming into AA, Pam Nellish was her name. She told me one morning before I moved out... Again, it was probably... I don't remember under what... Under what circumstances we parted ways. But by this time, I'd been asked to leave every place I'd ever lived. And... It was about three months after starting to pray that prayer. Yes, dear God, please help me stop drinking. The phone rang and it was Pam Nellish. And she had gone to Al-Anon trying to help her mother. Had failed at that. But that phone call... The God that I understand is very, very pragmatic and works through people. And it was Pam. And she said, and if you're afraid to go, I'll go with you. But I knew who I wanted. I knew who I needed to go with me. And that was Joan. You know, my old drinking buddy, my old roommate. They all get me out of jail. And... I said, yes, I'll go. And I called Joan. We had an appointment. I... My very first AA meeting was at NABBA. April 3rd of 75, 1975. And it was a women's... And they were talking about the big book. And I thought they were talking about the Bible. And I didn't care. I was going for it. I saw women who were sober. I didn't know anything about sobriety. But I knew that they were sober. That they did not drink. And no matter... I was so willing. I think it says in the book that I was as willing as only the dying can be. And I... In my heart, very much like you, James. In my heart, I was... Yeah, the steps, yes. I'm willing. I'm open. And I will be honest. And I kind of grabbed on to the principles before I had actually, quote, formally done the steps. And it kind of... It took me a while to get them synced up and say, Oh, that's what I did. That's what I did. I knew immediately I was an alcoholic. And I was honest about that. So that's step one. And I was willing to go to any lengths to do whatever it took. And I got hope, which is the one-word character for step two. I got that at the very first meeting. And that turned my life from black and white to technical. And I really kind of got slowed down on step three. Because, again, I didn't know what God wanted from me. But I knew it was going to be something I didn't want to do. So, again, I hadn't been able to do step four yet. Though I was writing. And I had already made some emergency amends. Like after just six months. It included a check to that man who had helped me. Who had paid for my... It was a loan. Paid for my Eastern Airlines training school. $300 when that was a lot of money. I'd never paid him back. I wrote a check and a letter. And I had also sent a check and a letter to my brother. Who took care of me when I was in Chicago. And I honed in on the... If I tried my best to practice all of these principles. Then my... Probably I'm not practicing my character defects. I went to lots of meetings. I glommed on to step 10 immediately. And by the time I got around to actually doing... You know what they say. If you're really hung up on a step. Go to the one before it. So, I went back to step three. And I quote needed... I wanted so badly to do it right. And to just do it... I wanted to do it formally. With a man of the cloth. Or a woman of the cloth. So, I'd gone to a spiritual retreat. Now, I had Linda Mitchell. Linda Green. Who was at my very first AA meeting. I had Barbara Keith. We were tight as thick as thieves. And Cheryl. And Peggy. My sponsor. I had my posse. And they were all... Would I have done it without them? It's the people. It is always the people. The literature is wonderful. The steps are wonderful. But without the people. To hold me. And guide me. And befriend me. And I was... Okay. I'm running ahead of myself. And getting all flustered. Because it's time to close. And I'm not ready. The most important things are the steps. But step 10. Doing that for the long 18 months. Before I did all of it. Was... By now, my immediate past is not so bad. And the fellowship was no longer enough. You're saying hello to me was no longer enough. And inviting me for coffee was no longer enough. So, I had gone on this spiritual retreat with Cheryl. And some of my posse. Some of the women in the meetings. And I said to the man. I would like to do a step 3 with you. And he said. You mean step 5. Don't you? And I said. No. I mean 3. So, we did a formal one. And that gave me. And I asked the man. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. I said. And I asked the man. What God? What if I have to give up? Am I willing to give up whatever it is? And at that time it was a young man. And I said. If you want me to give up Kim. Am I willing to do it? And it was yes. If that's what it takes, for me to stay sober. Then, I will do that. And then, I had the courage. After doing that formal. Doing it right. Um. I had the courage to go ahead and do step four and five and six and seven. And all of them, today, I mean, anytime you ever want to talk about it, one thing at a time, I'm trying to do too much. But I stayed happily sober for just shy of 14 years. And what happened? Well, there's a lot of alibis. We were on strike at Eastern Airlines. I had all of this spare time. I've never had spare time on my hands. I'd always worked. Those are just excuses. But what I do remember that a friend in Bobby Stanfield, if he won't mind me saying this, I don't think, still sober today. Yes, it is time. But it. If I have a drink, if I do any drug, I will return to the drug of my choice. I had already done other drugs, and I returned to the drug of my choice. And in a nutshell, I had gotten disconnected from you. And staying sober today, staying sober today was no longer my primary purpose. It was a lot of other things, and that was not among them. Okay. And it has to be number one. And so when I came back and got my. Actually, it was my first white chip. Because the first time, I didn't get one. I just got the red one and blah, blah, blah. But I am so grateful. And I have found that the more grateful I am, the more I have for which to be grateful. So. If you are in the community, you won't be surprised to learn that on Valentine's Day, 1997. My, I met my son and my four grandchildren. And I didn't even tell you about. There's always been people in AA. There has always been. From the death of my sister Audrey, when I had about three years, the emergency contact that Eastern Airline. Western Airlines had was NAVA, and T.C. Henderson picked up the phone, and he was the one, and instead of being, I just, on the way from the airport, I was to home where T.C. met me, I was just praying, God, whatever it is, give me the strength, give me the strength to bear it, and I've never been anonymous, and it served me well, it helped a judge give me custody of their youngest, my sister's youngest child, Jean, she was 11 when her parents died, that tragic alcoholic death, and the judge told the couple who also wanted her, I would rather see her. So, next April, I'm going to be a great grandmother, and I am so grateful to know my family, to know who they are, and to be a part of their family, and I'm going to be a great grandmother, and I'm going to be a great grandmother, and I'm going to be a great grandmother, and I'm just so grateful today to be sober, and that you are too, because one thing I know for sure, I can't do this by myself, thank you. Thank you, Isla, and I speak for everybody, we're so glad you're part of our family, and I'm going to unmute people for a moment before we hand out the chips, because I know folks want to say a couple of things to you. Mind-blowing, Isla, beautiful story. It helps me so much, Isla, thank you so much for your words, and your life. Thank you, Isla. You had me at the outhouse, Isla, I was captivated all day. I've been in the outhouse, understand. Who said that? I did, Isla. Oh, Brad, Brad. I didn't, I did to get sober like 30 minutes ago. I really did. Hey, you got sober in 89 minutes. You did good, you did good. Grandparents had it. And, thankfully, you touched all of us, Isla. Very brave lady, Isla, love you. Just a beautiful story. Thank you, Isla. Thank you, Isla. Beautiful, beautiful, Isla. Isla, thank you. Thank you, Isla. Thank you, Isla, I love you very much. You are such a beautiful person, and I mean that. You almost made me cry. I like you, I really do, and I'm so proud to know you. I really am. Thank you, honey. Thank you. Thanks, Isla. That was great. Appreciate you telling your story. Thank you, Jason. Isla, nobody would believe with all that poise and grace that you have. That you've climbed the mountain that you have. And I'm just glad that you're on top of Victory Mountain. Share all the words. Eastern Airlines takes your life, Isla. Yeah. It's the best education. You know, there was no money for that trip, that senior class trip to D.C. And who knew I'd be living there? And I've seen her in uniform. I've seen her in uniform. She did it well. Well, I wanted to share this with you because, again, I really wanted not for it to be a drunk of what it was like, but when I had one year sober, I took a realtor to NABBA, talk about commitment, and I said, I want to buy a house within a six-mile radius. And I bought a house. It was two miles away. And by this time, a year. I knew that there was plenty of other problems I had other than alcohol. So I made that commitment to buy that house. And we had a lot of good parties there, didn't we, Brad? Yes, we did. Yes, we did. And, again, I wasn't worried because, you know, you were the family I always was looking that I really didn't have. And not only that. Everybody shared their family. Remember, Barbara and her girls were still friends today. And Linda Mitchell, her parents and siblings took me in. I mean, I'm committed for life. And I hope and pray that I never again think that I don't need to stay connected to you. You know? So far, so good. So go ahead, Cleo. All right. Hey, family. My name is Cleo. And I'm an alcoholic. Hi, Cleo. Hey, thank you so much, Isla, for sharing your life story with us. Tonight is such an important, meaningful night. And I'm very grateful for it. So for the first check, we have the white check. That's for 24 hours for those that would like to join us. On a new journey and a new way of life. And the next check is the silver check for 30 days. And the next check is the gold check for 60 days. All righty. Looks like we all have a little bit of time. And the next check is the red check for three months. Let's see. We have the yellow check for six months. And the green check for nine months. And this next check goes to someone that has not only touched and lightened my life, not only as a sponsor, but as a very good friend. And this one goes to Kelly for her 15th. Birthday, AA birthday. And Kelly has been so instrumental with my sobriety. And she works with so many other women in the fellowship. And it's because of people like her that are loving, kind, and patient. But those that are just coming back in or coming in to the fellowship that we stick. And we work. In. The. Program. There's been a lot of memorable moments of working with Kelly. She's given me a lot of love, including some tough love. And that's kept me with you guys today. So round of applause for Kelly's 15th birthday. Thank you so much, Cleo. And you are such a gift and one of the many gifts that I received from this program. And. And I am so grateful to have found this program or the program to have found me. I believe the higher power, you know, helped to get me here. And you people helped me to stay here, helped remind me who I am. Thank you so much, Isla, for your story tonight. You're always such an inspiration to me, and I just love the way you live your life. And thank you. I love this program. We love you too, Callie. All right. Good job. Now, do we have any other anniversaries, birth dates? Okay. And there's one last call for the white ship, because we believe in second chances. All right. Thank God and your sponsors for the ships you hold. Thank you, Cleo. Great job. Next week we have Russell H. of the Toko Group. He's been around since 76. And he's a favorite of my sponsor, Tim M.'s. Tim M. made their arrangements, and I've met Russell on several occasions. He's a wise, wise old guy. Man, he's got something I want. So, y'all come back next week. Just another homesick child on your side. I can't make it through this fight. Don't make it through this fight. Don't make it easy. Look into that world. Get on out. As I try to make some sense of this world I'm... Well, I know my best defense. When the struggle gets its day, and the last dance fall. Keep you calling out your name with love. Look into that world. The shadow from the bottom. I'm strong. The shadow of death. Keep me out of... Of the shadow.