Jim tells his story at the Alco-An Club in Orlando, sober since February 18, 2002. Born in 1954 to a military family, he had his first drink at 11 at his sister's wedding reception — gulping champagne behind the fountain, spinning, vomiting, and waking up already in love with alcohol. His drinking escalated alongside burglary, juvenile detention, and a run from Florida to California after stealing his father's .45 and jumping bail. He contracted hepatitis C in a military hospital, and at 18 a judge sentenced him to 52 years at Raiford before reducing it to 18 months on a chain gang, where he cooked buck wine in the kitchen from yeast, sugar, syrup and rotten grapefruit.
He married in 1978, had a son Forrest in 1994 after three lost babies, and drank every night after 5 o'clock — never one drink, always to oblivion. Mixing Percodan stolen from his sister with alcohol, he urinated in the marital bed three times. His wife bought a $20 plastic mattress cover, then filed for divorce. He walked into AA on October 18, 1998 after a friend burned himself alive in a car in Volusia County, but spent four-plus years in and out, sponsored by another sick man — himself named Jim — drinking every 60 to 90 days.
The turn came when old-man Leo told him to go home and drink arsenic, and when Dan dragged him through a crowd to meet Joe at a speaker meeting. Jim and Joe traded business cards and discovered they worked for the same company. One final relapse — waking face-down on his kitchen tile with half a gallon gone — pushed him to call Joe. They worked steps one through three over barbecue in two hours, and Joe caught Jim leaving his own name off his fourth-step inventory.
Four years sober, Jim credits his son, his home group, and the hula-hoop philosophy a sponsor taught him: everything inside the hoop belongs to him and Higher Power, everything outside is none of his business. He buried eight drinking friends who never made it to the rooms, and closes by telling newcomers the Big Book is a blueprint and that a sick person cannot sponsor a sick person well.
You've been listening for a while — would you take a second to rate it? It helps others find the good ones.
Thanks — your rating was saved!
Discussion
Be the first to share your thoughts on this tape.