The Simplicity of Keeping It Simple – John A.

Without any further ado, I'm going to give you John. I'll get you some water. John, I am an alcoholic. Through the mercy of God and the help of a lot of good people, I have found it necessary to take a drink for 32 years. I had my last drink of alcohol on January 7th, 1968 in Roseview Hall in St. Mrs. Hospital in downtown Cleveland. Of myself, I have nothing. Of myself I have Nothing. Everything I have today, everything I hope to have, I would be glad of my understanding and the program of Doc Life Anonymous. And all I can tell you tonight is sober is better. There's a new man here tonight. Sober is better, this is a new way of life. Sober as better. Anything that's ever happened to me since I've been sober has been better. And I've had a lot of rough times sober with my health and a lot things, but I didn't have to take a drink. Sober it better. And AA teaches a new wave of life, I certainly want to congratulate the Irish Abdullah Harbor group on their 55th anniversary and a little bit of farce arithmetic I want to old man I wear my glasses this is the 208 212 thousand eight hundred fiftieth time the budget gonna cut together instead our father how many people said that our brother in the bar you know 20 or 20 other times but it doesn't get together and they're there are father yeah it is really a privilege to be up here tonight help celebrate the 55th anniversary you about the drug dedicated though started moving over help another drunk you know I can't get up with that they'll be profound I'm glad I'm a joke I'm a drunk because I drink. Yeah, well that's why I'm drunk. I can't tell you nothing about all this bullshit I hear every day about they talk about dysfunction at home your inner child or outer child or upper child or all this stuff I don't believe none of that. I'm not drunk because i drink and people are asking why am I a drunk? Because you drink. My mother did it, my father did it my inner child if I found the inner child I heard so much goofy stuff and it drives me crazy. You know, I came in there, I'm a drunk, I am not a drunk and a hander. I'm not a Dooley. I'm drunk. You know sometimes I hear so much crazy stuff but these days, many of today's drives me crazy. I heard a guy stand up for you, I didn't understand him, he stood up for me and said, I' m a bonger. What in the hell is a bongo? You know, I found out about this bong and I took a pipe and smoked something out of it. That was kind of crazy stuff. One day a guy stood up and said, I did doobies! I said, what the hell kind of bong did a doobie commit? You know I don't understand that kind of stuff. I understand about booze. You know long before I took drugs my life was unmanageable. I never could manage my life. I grew up in a small town in southwestern Pennsylvania. one of two children from two fine parents. They were good parents. My dad was a hard worker, my dad worked in the coal mine for 50 years and he drank like a pig. I don't know if these are analogies but I know he drank a pig and this little town where I grew up, this little coal mining town, there was a lot of drunks, a lot drinking. Weddings, funerals, christening or whatever there was drinking that was drunk in it you know and these people they didn't even drink when somebody dies. When I was a kid, that's many, many moons ago, when I was a kid somebody would die, they'd wake their bodies at home. It'd be like a damn party. People go visit the dead and they'd be out in the yard shooting crap and drinking and fighting and carrying on. And I see that and I say, shit, I ain't never gonna do that. You know, I'll never be like that. My dad would wake up in the middle of night and be hollering sometimes. My mother would tell me, your daddy had had a snake last night. What in the hell is a snake? It was nothing more than a DT. And I often wonder, why would anybody drink that stuff and make me crazy like that? If that stuff makes me crazy, I'm not going to drink it. You know, but growing up as a kid, I was in trouble. I got into school. I was in trouble with school because my life was run on self-will from a kid. I did things my way. My way would never, never work. I never would pay attention. I never followed the rules. If I would go somewhere and there'd be a sign, don't walk on the grass, hell with it, I'd walk on the grass. Throwing down that chair, he said what place? I'd do it any damn way. I did things my way. Noticed they were smoking in school, I decided I smoked in school. See what I wanted to do. My way always got me in trouble. My ways always got me in trouble. I was always a three inning ball player as a kid growing up. I never completed anything I ever finished. I get into twos and I go with three innings not quick. You know, I got into high school without trouble in high school because of my attitude. I had a bad attitude like I see all these kids today, coming in here, got a bad attitude. Don't tell me nothing. I know what life's about. I'm 16. I knew everything. I didn't know what Dad said. I couldn't be told nothing. And when I was the first man in high school my sister was a senior and our principal told me one day in highschool, you're a disgrace to the Brinson name. You're a disgrace to Brinson's name. He said your sister is well liked here. He says you never follow rules. You don't do what you're told to do. If you don't start start changing your attitude, kids are going to be in trouble. You're going to have a hard time in life. And I laughed at him. You know, my sister went to her reunion, I don't know, 10, 15 years ago, whatever. And that principal was there. He asked my sister, whatever happened to that brother of yours? You know what she told him? Yeah, he'd become a drunk. He'd become a junk. That's the hell of a thing to talk about your brother. But what else could you tell him? That's what I became was a junk. That's what I become was a drunk. I got high school in 1957 and my dad, I thought my dad was the terrible thing in the world. My dad was a hard worker. He didn't even work. When I got to high school, 57, my old man sat me down and talked to me. He said, kid, what do you want to do with your life? Do you want to go to service? I said hell no. Do you wanna go to trade school? I I said, hell no. He said, what do you want to do? I said nothing. He said why do you want me to go to work? I went to 12 years of school and I wanted to take a vacation. I'm going to stay around home here. She'd never buy me clothes or buy me cigarettes. She's living like I was giving out when I was six years old. Why would I want to leave home? That'd be crazy. I don't want to go get no job. I don' t want to be doing nothing. But you know when I got about 17 out of high school I went out with a couple of fellows one night and they had a bottle and we drank. I drank that stuff up just like water. It was nasty, you know, nasty. But I got drunk. If you drink enough, you get drunk. And I got drank that night and I was sick, you know. And what I remember that night is these two guys took me home and threw me in the house where I was raised with my mother and my grandmother. And, uh, I was so sick. I had a big garbage can in the middle of the kitchen. I was puking. And every time I'd go out for air, my mother or grandmother would hit me in here with a broom. Boom, boom, boom. boom, boom, man I was sick. And I went to bed that night and I woke up in the morning and I was thick. But I woke the next morning I didn't wake up and say I'm an alcoholic I want another drink. No no I earned that right to be an alcoholic. I earned it right. So I'll never drink again. That was in 57 and the old man kept on me go get a job kid grow up go get a job you know and I didn' understand why he was trying to get me out of the house but he wanted me to go on with life's work and I'm six months of 21 him and I had an argument one day and I run away from home. I runaway from home when I was 20 years old. In Pennsylvania, they taught us the three R's. Reading, writing, and a road to Cleveland. 1960, I found this road to Cleveland. I came to Cleveland, buddy, I'm scared, I don't know what to do alone, not knowing nobody you know. What am I going to do? But I got a job I hunted around, I got a job at a hospital down there on Broadway in Cleveland. I took this job in a hospital, you know. And I hated Cleveland. I hated Cleve. I had never seen so many buses, so many big buildings, so many people in my life. I tried to cross the street to that side of the street, walk and don't walk. She didn't even tell you when to walk and no walk at this time. I didn't know what... I was to God. I didn' t know nothing. The town I came from was about 300 people. Small coal mine town. But anyway, I got a room in a boarding house across from this hospital and a bunch of guys worked in the hospital, lived in that roomy house. And one spring evening in the 1960s, I took a walk with these guys up Broadway. We were going to go get some suckers. We took a little walk up Broadway and they stopped at a gin mill. And I had been in this loon when I was a kid with my dad, but very, very seldom. So I walk in this loon and these guys are drinking beer. They're having a good time, you know, and they're shooting pool tops for the girls. And I'm sitting there back in the corner, very shy, very lonesome, not knowing how to do nothing. But I heard a guy order a fishbowl. And I didn't know what the hell a fish bowl was, but I seen one of those big spooners of beer. So I drank me two or three of that big spooner of beer, buddy, and I was ready. I was shooting pool. I was doing everything I wanted to do before and couldn't do it. But you know from then on, from 60 to 68, I screamed for help. It was drink trouble, drink trouble. I can't stand every night and tell you I haven't had any fun drinking. I've never I never had no fun drinking. If I think for a minute that there's a giggle in a bottle for me, I'm in trouble. No more giggles in the bottle for me. From day one it was drink trouble, drink trouble drink trouble. And that's the way it was. In 1960, that year I met a girl at this hospital. She worked there and I thought that'll be my answer. I'm Lonesome. I miss Pennsylvania. I miss my friends. I've got a girlfriend. And I got a girlfriend. And I thought I was in love, but I was in heat. I didn't know the damn difference. I tell her like it is. I'm sorry. You got the way it is for me. I was getting heat. And a couple months after I started dating this girl, she came to me and she says, I'm pregnant. You're what? How in the hell did you get like that? Playing dumb, you know. Playing dumb. I knew that I was playing dumb. What are we going to do? She asked me that. What do you mean, what are we gonna do? You got a mouth in your pocket? What are we gonna doing? I thought about it for a couple of days and everybody I knew got women in the family where they got married. I come up with a big idea, we'll get married! Oh that's a good idea. She was an erotic and I'm a drunk and we're going to put a life together. I'm about, like I say, a couple months shy of 21 and she's about 19 and we really screwed up. We got married. Shut gun wedding. We got married and we went into housekeeping for ourselves. We had a three-room apartment. And this woman, when I married her, she was a pretty good woman. But after I married it, she turned out to be the devil's daughter. Oh, she was mean. Gee. I like to stop after work and drink with the guys. I'd like to go out at night after I come home from work. I don't even nag. She would nag, nag, rag, nag. And during the paycheck, she wanted all the money. I said, do you want money? Go out and work. Shit. We had this house, you know. And I come home from work, and she wanted me to cut the grass. Cut the grass? I never cut grass in my life. I ain't going to start now. I worked all day. And I deserved to go out with the boys. I knew that there was other women out there who had other things to do besides being tied down to a wife. She gave birth to our first son in 62, and things didn't get no better because I continued to drink. I continued to do what I wanted to do, and this kid at home and her, I just couldn't stand the pressure, and I kept drinking and drinking, and in the middle of the night, I'd be sleeping, and the kid would cry. She'd be telling me to get up with the kid. I said, hey, I worked all day. You get up and take care of me. That's the way it was. I finally lost this job at the hospital where I worked in 1962, and I took a job where I was presently employed today, where I retired from, I mean, a couple years ago. Anyway, it's Christmas time at this shop where I work. They had a big party. And all I did, I guess, was show off and get drunk. I got drunk as a skunk. And they brought me home. Two guys brought me over to work, And the next thing I can remember, my wife sitting on the edge of the bed crying. What are you crying about? What's the matter with you? She said, last night two guys brought you home and threw you in the house. You fell asleep on the floor. You was broke. No money from payday. It was two or three days before Christmas. There was a mess. And she says, you raised hell. She said you beat the hell out of me and pushed me around. She was seven months pregnant. God forgive me. And she told me, my son, who was 10 months old, I picked him up in a high chair, threw him in a height chair across the kitchen floor. She said, I went crazy. And I didn't believe her, I didn' t believe her. But she showed me the marks on her and the bruises on the kid. Okay, I'll quit drinking. I'll never do this again. Please, please, I' ll quit drinking." And I quit drinking because I didn''t quit hanging with the guys I hung with. I didn ''t quit going to the bars. I kept doing what I wanted to do, but I didn.''t drink. A couple of months later, in the spring of that year, we moved to a different neighborhood in Cleveland. And I haven't had a drink now between Christmas and Easter. And the day after we moved, the landlord came down the bottle, he put it at our table, he said, have a drink. I said, I don't drink. My wife says, God save you, have that one for Christmas. Take one, one won't hurt you. Take one. One won't hit you. That one was the one that lit the fire. And I took the drink, and the drink took me. From then on from 63 to 68 was drink trouble. Second son born in February of 63. My kids are a year apart all but a day, all but a day they're a year part. And I'm drinking, and I'll wake up sick in the mornings now, going to work on a bus. And, I'd be full sick in a morning, and I found out about that morning drink early. I saw him in a saloon, and he gave me a cup of black coffee, and that black coffee wasn't working. Some of the guys that I worked with said, kid, that coffee up makes you sick. Take some of the hair of the dog. What are you talking about the hair or the dog? What is that? Dogs here? I didn't know what they were talking about. I thought some people in the city drink dogs here. What the hell did I know? No, no. What you drank last night and what you drank this morning is going to make you well. And I started drinking in the morning and I'd get well out of the hell with work and hell with everything. And it's the way it was. It's theway it was I kept living like that drinking, carrying on not facing my responsibilities disabilities, always thinking about me. I was the most selfish bastard ever off the face of the earth, I was selfish and it's one thing I can say today in AA I've learned in these past 32 years, try not to be selfish no more. My wife sometimes thinks I'm selfish but I'm not a selfish person. You know, I've learnt how to give myself, give to other people. This is the biggest thing I learned, one of of the biggest things I've learned in AA. In 1966, I come home from work one evening and I gave her some money out of the paycheck I had with a friend of mine. And I came home drunker in hell and she was trying to get more money from her and she wouldn't give me no more money and I raved to hell. She called the cops and when the cops were called, I jumped in bed covered up my head by ten dollars I was asleep. It was in the middle of February, cold, snowing outside, you know, and I jumped into bed. And I heard the cop car pull up, I looked out the upstairs window, here comes two cops. I said, oh shit, I'm going to jail. And buddy, I jumped out of that bed, put on my pants, no shoes, no socks, no shirt, and went out the back door. And all I heard was telling them two cops, they come to the front door. He went out of the back door, and they came around the house, and he hollered, stop, halt, we want to talk to you. Poor shit, so I jumped over to the neighbor's fence, and up the street I run in a pair of pants in a snowstorm. And I run into a gin mill. I run into a beer joint up the street, and I told the barmaid to hide me. I said, please hide me at the log after me. Where's your clothes? Don't ask questions. It's cold outside. Go get it closed. Don't answer questions. Hide me, please. I'll tell you about it when the cops go. So this kind woman took me downstairs and locked me in a walk-in cooler. Now here I am, locked inside of a walkie cooler. When I came out of that cooler, it was more sober than I went in, I'll tell you. But it was cold. And I told her what happened. I went home that night and my wife had got the kids back to sleep and I went to bed that night. And she's telling me go to sleep. She said we'll talk about it in the morning. She says I'm tired of being a whipping force for you. I'm tired of you abusing these kids, waking these kids up in the middle of the night. I've tired of begging you to help me support these kids. Just go to bed. We'll talk about in the morning. I went to bed and I slept. The next morning I woke up and I was sick, and I was hungover and I had that full of remorse, full of guilt. These two kids running around the house they were, I don't know, there were three or four I think, Mark and Mike, and they're telling me, Daddy we're gonna go move with Grandma, we're going to live with Grandma. We can't, Mommy can't live with you no more. You're bad. You drink. You hit Mommy. We can't leave with you anymore. And I begged her, don't take my boys away from didn't do no good. She called, she had called a cab to take her down to her mother's and the cab came and these two little boys were three or four and she took these kids and she went and lived with her mother. I never want to forget it you know that these two little boys they loved their daddy as much as they knew how to love at that age and their daddy loved them and was capable of loving somebody. But these two boys one on each leg hollering, Daddy we don't want to go, I said, Mommy, don't leave Daddy, please. But Daddy's sick. Daddy won't drink no more, Mommy. But they went. My two boys were innocent victims of my drinking. Innocent victims of mine drinking. They was raised in a broken home. No father and a running mother and by stepfather. It was sad. But they grew up to be men. And they're good men today, in spite of me. And anyway, she told me when she left, I could come get these kids on Sunday morning I bring it to my house and spend Sunday with the kids if I pay their child before. But you know, I drink all week and I drink on Saturday night and Sunday morning I woke up, I ain't hungover and I go to her mother's house pick up the kids and I take them on a bus. They look at me and they say, Daddy would you buy us breakfast? Yeah, Daddy will buy you breakfast. You know where Daddy would take them? Because Daddy was sick and I needed to fix me first. I take him in a saloon and put him in the booth, give him a bag of potato chips and a bottle of Pepsi-Cola. It's nine o'clock on Sunday morning. And daddy's sipping that beer joint and he goes, well man that was bad, that was bad. These kids had potato chips with Pepsi-cola on a Sunday morning. The visitation rights were taken away. I don't want to be like that you know. But every time I took a drink, the drink took me. I thought the answer was in the bottle. And by that time in my neighborhood up here around there there was a lot of old farts like me today, you know. They were the old wineheads, winers. Everybody would laugh at them, tease them, derelicts. And these guys, I met these guys and they introduced to me which has become my favorite drink. They introduced me to Muscatel, Thunderbird, Wild Irish Rose, Ripple and Nitrane. And I'm here to tell you tonight that God made anything better than wine in general for yourself. I believe this. I believe it. That Thunderbird wine man, you kicked your mother on the ass. That was some bad stuff. And I started hanging with these winos, you know. I started hangin' with these wine-o's and these wine o's were good to me. I worked a few days that I'd go on binges with these wines-o-s. We lived in the doorways, in the flops, in the garages. Didn't care about nothing. Just cared about all that gas drinks was coming from. And these wine os, they learned me a lot. They learned me how to panhandle. They put me out on the streets. I stand up for a panhandel. It amazes me today when I hear people stand up behind these parties and talk about, oh, I had a $1,000 a day habit. Jeez, $1 ,000 a day habit! It would take me 3 or 4 hours to get 25, 50 cents to get a shorty of wine. And these guys out there, they were bad winos, man. They were bad drunks. They were alcoholics. They drank Bay Rum. They drank aftershave. They drank canned heat. They drank anything with alcohol in it. I ain't that bad. No, I'm not drinking that stuff. And one night we was so sick, all of us. and one guy goes out and gets a loaf of Italian bread and a bottle of black choupons and he was drinking this black chupons with the Italian bread, drinking it. No, not for you guys, ain't for me. But I tell you what, I did get hooked on it. I found out quick that it was good for a hangover. It was cheap and it was easy for me to steal. I got hooked on vanilla extract. I walk around half the time smelling like a damn cake. I go to work I go to work and the guy says, Bunza, what kind of cake is it? And I said, it smells like cake. Yeah. But that stuff was easy to handle. And that don't make me any worse than anybody else or any better than anybody else. That's where it took me. And I lived with Delwine like that for a long time. And I didn't care about my personal hygiene. I cared about nothing. All I cared abut was, as they call it today, parties. Because today there wasn't no party. It was just hard times. But I got hooked by that shit, and I drank that wine without the grapes. That wine I drank never seen a damn grape. Never seen a grape. It didn't take much for me. It did take much. And I lived like that. You know, I wouldn't bath. I wouldn' shave. I wouldn do nothing. I'd just lay there and drink with them winos. One night them wino's was dinner. Just incidents, you know. Crazy. crazy. We had nothing to drink and I decided to go steal something. So, I went out on the avenue and I stole a bag of onions off of the truck. About a hundred pound bag of onion. And another wine night he goes out and steals a box of puppies. And where he gets them, I don't know. And him and I sell the puppies and onions. Trying to get money to get a damn drink. People throwing us out of bars. Dogs got loose you know. Man, it was a mess. It And I lived like this. And I found myself in 1967, early of 67, November of 67. I found my self strapped to the bed at a hospital in Cleveland because I had got sick and the doctor put me in a hospital. And my sister came to my bed. She was hollering at me and screaming, what's the matter with you? Why are you living like this? Blah, blah, blah. And I was thinking, I don't want to hear a bullshit. Get out of here. But I found out with my sister that November of 62, I said, I want to straighten up. I promise you I'll never drink again. I'm going to go to Pennsylvania with her and her husband for Christmas that year. And I went back to work around the first week of November of that year, and I worked, and I had some money. And I promised her that she could pick me up on Christmas Eve and we'd go to California. But I didn't drink all the way up to two days before Christmas in 67. Two days before Christmast in 67, I left that shop where I worked, and I had two paychecks in my pocket. A bonus check they had given us for the paycheck, and they had give us a big hand for Christmas I had in the bag. And I come down to the bus, and wanted a gin meal. I wanted a saloon. And I said, I'm going to call my kids and see if I can come see them for Christmas. So I made a phone call to my wife. Can I come see Mark and Mike tomorrow for Christmas? I mean tonight, like the 23rd. if you're sober you can come see him we haven't talked to him in six months she put him on the phone and little Mark and little Mike was ever so happy Daddy, Daddy you want to come see us it's Christmas what Santa Claus is going to bring us what do you want and there was Santa Claus age and I told him I said I'm going to go on Broadway I'm gonna buy you Christmas gifts and I'll be there in a couple hours you wait for Daddy you wait for Daddy but your lousy damn Daddy come out of that phone and we would just sit down at the bar. I hadn't had a drink since November, and this was already December 23rd. And I sat at the bar, and we have one shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer, and then I'm going to go down and celebrate about a kid's Christmas present. I took the drink, the drink took me, and I woke up the next morning in that flat house where I lived back there, and I was sick, sorry, and sober. Sick, sorry and sober Oh, I was full of remorse and full of guilt You see, when I was drunk I had no problem I had no problems drunk. If I could have stayed drunk, I probably would still be drunk if I had been living. My problem was how I found myself that morning, full of remorse and full of guilt. You dirty bachelor, you did it again. You did it good. But anyway, that was Christmas Eve morning of 1967. And my brother-in-law and sister said, It's going to take me to the P.A. to my mother's house. So I went up to the bar to get a drink. I was sick, man. I needed a drink, I was sick. And my brother-in-law come in that bar and damn near carry me out of there, threw me in a car. They took me to VA for Christmas. No Christmas presents for my mother, no nothing. Just a dirty, filthy, you know, drunk. And now right at my mother's house, Christmas is even 67 and I'm a mess. And wife calling my mother, kids calling grandma. Daddy didn't show up last night, Grandma. Daddy got that drunk. Mommy called the bar, Daddy was a very drunk. He didn't come see us. Why don't Daddy like us? Grandma, why did Daddy do this to us, Grandma? Grandma didn't have no answer. Their daddy was a drunk. Their daddy wasn't an alcoholic. And he didn't know it. See, I took one drink and the drink would take me. I couldn't ever quit at once. That insatiable appetite for more than one drink. I take one, I'm gone. I like the fire. The kids, everybody but it went out the window. But anyway, I made that Christmas day at my mother's house. And that Christmas Day of 67, I left my mother house and my mother sat me down with tears in her eyes she said Johnny please go back to Cleveland straightened up. Grow up become a man! Grow up take care of your responsibilities. My old man hollering, please go take care that boy, them boys love you. As big as drunk as I am. I never abused you. You only had enough to eat and enough clothes, and you had a nice Christmas. Go take care of your kids." And I promised them that I would. But my mother gave me the $100 bill. Getting short of breath. Let me get a shot of water. Give me the hundred dollar bill. I come back to Cleveland. I went to the a flop house and I'm crying and wallowing and wailing among shit I want to see them kids and I went to the phone booth that Christmas night at 67 and I called my wife I said please yes I'm sorry about two nights ago I said I got her hours I'll come down give you half you by Christmas presents tomorrow she said you love me back with you she said you've heard him for the last time I want to paint you a picture she's too nice to go mark on my glitters with her noses at the window. Every bus will come by, Daddy's coming, Daddy, Daddy gonna come with 90 o'clock. Daddy gonna bring us posers, Mommy. Don't put us to bed. 930, 10 o' clock I took them boys to bed kicking and screaming. You didn't show up your bachelor, you was drunk. You'll never see them kids again, you'll never see them kid again. Man! And I'm hollering at her, she's hollered at me. I threw that telephone down and I went down, it was cold, and I go down to the gin mill. And And I walk in that gin mill, and my wino buddies was in there. They had nowhere to go on Christmas. They had no family. They was in this gin mill. But I had a hundred dollar bill in my pocket, and some money I asked in the paycheck and a bonus check. And we started to drink. In the closing time when a woman called us, called Buddy, we were all in there having a party. The last call, I brought them five winos beside myself. I brought a gallon of Muscatel. Here we'd go up the street with a gallon of Muscatel in our arms. And we're in the garages up there, carried on drinking, you know it's Christmas, having a good time. And got drunk, supposed to work at 26, didn't work until 26. I'm in and out and that's how I was introduced to that death. But at that time of the night, the life I was introduce to that new wine that came out, they called them Night Train. They said, we go on a train ride every night with that Night Train, we lay up in them garages, doo-doo, and we drink that damn wine like damn fools, you know and living like that living like that but it came to the point between Christmas and New Year's of 67 to 68 was a mess I'm in trouble boy I haven't worked I'm getting sicker and sicker and thicker and thicker I lost all bodily functions you know when I come into this program I heard about spiritual experiences I'm going to tell you something one of the biggest spiritual experience I ever had was my first dollar doll movement I'm telling that's not nice, but it's the truth. It's the damn truth. You drink that wine, you don't have to tell about a moment. And I lay in that nest for a week or two. You're going to eat all over myself, get sick and puke. I'm here to tell you tonight, I believe this. If anybody here tonight is thinking about going back, I'll tell you what to do. If you're going sick enough this time, go back out and drink some wine. Drink muscatel and drink beer behind it. And you'll get so damn sick in about a week. But don't eat nothing. Eat a bag of chips, get a bottle of one of them blind wobbles or a pickled egg. And you get so damn sick of it on your back, you'll puke straight up in the air. I don't understand it. Boy that wine would make me so sick. But like I said with New Year's going to New Year and what's the New Year needs? I found myself on avenues up there sick. I woke up and I heard a jukebox playing Auld Lang Syne and a woman had about a head of her hair and I was sitting with my face in a a plate of sauerkraut in the bar. And she said, Happy New Year. Happy New Year. Boom. By God, I went. By God I went and New Year's Day I'm drinking in the bars on In-N-Out you know but come the come the day of January 3rd 1968 today I never want to forget this is the day I must never forget that power come into my life that power come into my life I call it off that desperate prayer every drunk caller dollars. God help me, God help. I'm in a saloon on the 3rd. You can't come in here John, you owe us money, you're bothering our customers. I walk out to another one the same way, get out of here, get out of there. But that night, I come out of this saloon about 4 o'clock in the afternoon on the 30th and they didn't forgive me. And I'm lonesome buddy, I'm scared, I'm crying, it's cold. I've got daily work uniform on, a can full of meth, nothing to a drink, shaking. I'd shake so bad from that damn shake, the stranger would come by in the car and blow the horn and wave at me. And I had them damn wine pours on my feet and on my hands, and I'd be so damn sick. And, I had a loneliness that no one else like to understand. That hopelessness, hopelessness I had that night. I could light that bar and I stood up against the window and I'm crying, what am I gonna do now? What am I going to I mean, boy, I was so scared. And I walked and I cried and I looked. I couldn't find nothing to drink. I couldn' t find a wino. And I'm walking and I'm so loathing, crying, so loathsome, so scared to death of fear. You see, a drink wasn' t doing for me what it used to do. But I was scared. Anyway, I went around the block and I went to the plot house where I lived. And I went into that bed. I laid in that bed and I'd be all asleep. And I was asleep and I jumped up I thought it would be three hours. It'd be 20 minutes. Well, my mind would tell me John go to the bathroom You gotta go pee. Hey John go pee But John didn't have enough strength to get out of that bed to go pee and I roll over and urinate in the bed And I puked and I was gagging. I was so sick But that morning of the 4th Never want to forget it right here in front of my face, buddy I had a lot of illness and strokes heart attacks sugar diabetes everything I've never been as sick as I've been that morning. Never. January the 4th, 1968. I'm in that flop house, buddy, and I'm sick. And I found myself in a bathroom in that flop house. And i'm gagging. I got my head in that toilet bowl, buddy. I'm puking. The snot is running. The eyeballs are popping. I am gagging and brought off with dry heaves. I don't know if anybody here ever had that. Brought off with dry heavs. Man, I'd be so those things. Nothing to drink. I drank water in the bathroom. I drink water, I puke it. But I found myself in that clubhouse, in that bathroom, by that sink and there was a medicine cabinet in there. And I looked up there and there's a bottle of alcohol and an aftershave. And you don't have to drink the aftershaves to come here. So I had to do that. I took that bottle of aftershaves, you know, and I popped the lid off that aftershade and I chuggled on this. And threw a glass of water behind me and I burped that shit for a week the aftershave but you know it's filling me down a little bit I went out of that house that flop house that morning and I went to the saloon I told the barmaid I said please I said give me a glass of muscatel I just drank a bottle of aftershaves I'm sick you did what I told her so this kind woman I was shaking so bad this kind woman came over and poured a big glass of Muscatel and gave it to me on the table and her and I was the only ones in in the bar and I'm shaking. She turned her head while I drink it. I drank about half of it, I guess, still the rest. But anyway, I went in the bathroom in this saloon that day and all of a sudden, buddy, the pain's in my belly. I don't know whether to stand up or sit down. It was coming out of both ends. Said, I can shave with that musket towel. Man, I was sick. And I come out of that bathroom. She heard me carry on in there. She said, Come out of there. I want ours. She says, I I know a place for people like you. You're an alcoholic, and they've got a place called Rosary Hall downtown Cleveland. If you go there, they'll give you free whiskey for three days. I said, what? Free whiskey for three nights? Shit yeah, take me down there. No, you gotta call up AA. You gotta call UPAA. What is AA? I didn't know what AA was. She told me a little bit, and I called up downtown office this evening on January the 4th of 1968. And the first voice I heard was an old man an old Mexican guy, Dick Perez. And he said, what can I do for you? What can I do to you? I said, hospital, free drinks for three days. I want to go to the hospital where they give you free whiskey for three days." He said, no, no no. He says, are you an alcoholic? I don't know what the hell I am. I said I want go to a hospital and get free drinks for three day. And then he told me, he said that please, he says, go home and I'm I'm going to send somebody out to see you. I don't know who he's going to send there or what. But I hung up the phone and I went down to that flop house and I waited and nobody came. And I went back to another saloon and I'm sitting there that day I'm standing there sick nothing to drink sick as a dog. And I told you in the beginning of my talk tonight of myself I am nothing. Of myself I are nothing. In this saloon in that saloon that day walks a man whom I know until he was sent by God. I believe this. You see my mother wore out probably four or five meters praying for this clown and people in his room before me was paying for their drunk. And their prayers were answered, buddies, because I wasn't capable of doing nothing. Nothing that I did that I deserved it. If I got what I deserved, I'd be hanging from the nearest oak tree. This I believe. But that man walked up to me with three lures. Hell yeah, I'll go down there. So he made a phone call, and he called down at Roseby Hall. He called my shop first while I work. I had to work for a week. The boss says, tell him to go. When he's here, he's a good worker. He's not here half the time. When we're here, he's ready to help. Causing trouble. He said, tell them to go get out. And he called Rosie Hall in January of 68'. Now thank God for Rosie Hall January of 68'. They didn't have to interview me. They didn' t have to assess me. They didn''t have to ask me all these questions about these functional homes and all this bullshit. If he's a drunk, bring him down. Okay, he got me a room. I made one one phone call. My last hope that I would have to go to that place. I called my mother in Pennsylvania. I tried to ask for drinks. My mother could tell I was drunk on a telephone and half-drunk or whatever. I said, please, they want to send me to a place where they help drunk. She says, go, go. I say, no, I don't want to go. I said send me $100 and I won't have to go. I said I promise you if you send me $100 I'll get another room. I'll go back to work I'll never drink again and my mother did the best thing she didn't do for me at the time I hated her no more money for you sonny boy you've used it for the last time you use it for the life I was just crying please go there get off no more many for you I can't give you no more money thank God my mother good that day I thought it was cool but I know today was the first thing there happened to me and I planned the phone don't call this guy taking the rosary all he took me to rosary hall and I went in here on January 4th, 1968. More dead than alive. I went in there with a pan full of meth. Dirty. I weighed 103 pounds. Shaken like a leaf. Sick as a dog. And I don't know what I was getting into. I was scared to death. But I walked in there and I met some kind people. They put me in the bed. They cleaned me up a little bit, you know. And they gave me some pajamas to put on. They were ten times too big. But anyway, I put them on. And now I'm waiting in that bed. I'm laying there sick as a doll. This nurse came in. Big nurse. All these nurses when I was there were like Amazons. Oh, they were big. They would bounce on these men around like ragdolls, you know. Smoking cigars and blowing cigars at them and all that bullshit. And this kind woman, she was talking to me, taking my blood pressure and all this bullshit. And finally she says, I've got a shot for you. And I reached up, I got my one elbow in in that bed. I reasonably get that shot. I thought she had a shot of whiskey for me. She said, drop your doors. I dropped my doors, buddy. She hit me in the ass with a big needle. Boom! Then she gave me that big double header as I know it today was Cobb's Creek whiskey. Wow, what good stuff. You had Cobb Creek, didn't you? That was some good stuff! Good stuff! And then she gave me a big glass of orange juice. This is orange juice with taro syrup. If I can't drink that bullshit, I'll make you six syrups and orange juice together. You drank half a shave this morning, you told me. Drink it. She was big. Yes, ma'am! And I drunk her down, you know. And there was something else must have been in there knocking my ass out. I went to sleep and I woke up again and they medicated me. But the next morning I woke again. The next morning on the fifth I woke coming out of a place called Rosary Hall and I was scared to death. Another big giant of a woman. Like Amazon, I'm telling you, it was a big woman. Had more muscles than Superman. They were sitting there, you know, she's holding my hand, this nurse. I looked at her and she put herself on my hands. We were both out in the store from when I'd been out in The Colts and that one thing, I had whining. And I started to cry. What are you crying about? I said, I am sorry. She said, You've been sorry all your life. Yes, ma'am. I said look what I did last night. I rolled over and I went to bed about four or five times that night. She said, don't be ashamed of that. She said. You're an alcoholic. She's not an alcoholic, I used to do that. She said I understand. For the first time somebody understood. One drunk to another. One drunk another. I understand, she was there. And she rang a bell and here comes two clowns in house clothes. They were patients, I didn't know what kind they were. And they had badges on them. And one says Mary and one says Sheriff. I wonder how am I at? But she told me these two guys are going in the shower. So these two guys took me up, threw me in the shower and cleaned me up. When I came back out of bed this kind woman medicated me again and tried to give me something to eat. I went to sleep. But that day, that same day in Rosary Hall around 3 o'clock in the afternoon again a man walked into my room, very big guy. Everybody in that place was giant by the time. And I'm a midget or something. They were big. This guy walked into the room where you had a carton of cigarettes under his arm and put them on my bed. He said, this is for you. I don't even know the guy. My name is Joe and I'm an alcoholic. I'm going to be your sponsor, do you understand?" I said, What? Get to hell! I'm sick man. Don't bother me. I don'y even know you. You're bringing me a cart to send us. You can be my damn sponsor. I wasn't sponsored. And he started telling me his story about what drinking did to him and how he got there 12 years before that. His sister called him to be my sponsor. I didn't know. And I hollered at him, get out of here. He said, bullshit. He jumped up off the chair. He was sitting there, he didn't even know if he was ready to start pumping me in the chest. You will listen to me, you understand, punk? Shut up and listen. When I'm done talking, you talk. Oh shit, this guy was big. And I had no cigarettes, they would give me free whiskey. It's snowing outside, I better listen to these people. Man, I'm scared. And thank God for Rosie Hall in 1968. Thank God for the Rosie Hall of 1968. Thank God they didn't have 55 doors with constant on it. Thank God they didn't talk about this dysfunctional hunger dinner child bullshit. They left swimming pool with horseback riding and all this fancy shit like they got today. They had drunks come to see you. Drunk as my guy was. And they weren't talking about being Julie and Rudy and all that stuff today. They were drunk! And I had some of the best drunks I ever met in my life come into my bed at Rosie Hall. Some of the first 150 guys today came into my bedroom at Rosie hall and talked to me. I didn't know what the matter. Here's a quarter, here's a half a dollar, take a pack of cigarettes, and we'll see you when you get out. Hang in there, you're going to be all right." And some of these guys they were old, old. They was, I've got to say this, they was old as farted dust. Man, they's old. I'm a young kid, I'm about 28, you know, and I'm scared. These guys left an impression on me, these guys left a impression on me. And one old-timer come in here like I am, he's a doctor, he had a cane. He comes shuffling in there. What's wrong with you kids? Is your shoes too tight? Uh, what the hell are you talking about? What the hell did I know? One guy came there the last day I was there. One guy come there and said, kid, we're going to send you for further education. We're going send you to Harvard for treatment. Harvard? Yeah! Broadway and Harvard, I said. Broadway and Harvey had a club up there, you know, on Broadway in Cleveland. Broadway and harvard. And that's where they go send me for treatment, I didn't know what they were talking about. So I left there. I left Rosary Hall, people. And I left here with a little bit of hope. A little bit. I was clean. I was sober. I wasn't sick no more. And I met a nice bunch of guys that were going to show me. And my sponsor and the other guy came and took me out of Rosary hall that night. And at the elevator door it says, take hope while you leave here. I went into Rosary halls hopeless and helpless. 23 pounds of clothes on my back. And didn't know nothing from nothing. by a little bit of the hope of my newfound friend they took me to my first meeting which was Ramona group which I'm a member today it took me downstairs in this Ramona Group bunch of old pot-bellied cigars smoking old men I was 28 that was young old men my age I think anywhere from 60 70 years old and they were shaking my hand now he's going a cup of coffee in a doughnut shit I want a pint of wine or hookers. A cup of coffee and a damn donut. And one guy stood up there and said if he was talking like I'm rambling tonight, he's talking stuff he knows. After the meeting, one of these clowns came up to me and tried to hug me. He says, I'm going to love you until you can love yourself. Get your damn queer hands off me. What I know is that the men I hung with didn't want to hug each other. They were trying to hug because he was going to love me so I can love myself. Scared me to death. Scares me to death. But these guys, after the meeting, these guys took me and they sent me down. They talked to me. They tried to talk to me the best they could. We're here to help you. Let us help you! Let us help you, we want to help you, let us. You don't have to live like that no more. And they took me back to that sloth house where I lived that night and I went back to work the next day. They came and said they were going to send me to Harvard. You've got to go to to Harvard. You got to go to Harvard and learn how to face over. But now it's Harvard. It's all the way to Harvard." So they gave me the address, and I went up to this place called Belvedere Harvard. There was a little A club up there, a joy club. And I walked in, and it was God's waiting room. All these old farts up there and old men. They were all ready to die like I am today. Oh! And they're shuffling around there, you know. One guy said, I'll buy you a cup of coffee, only because it's a nickel. The coffee was a nickel cup up in him days and it's not what these guys told me is what they showed me take our hand and follow us we're going to be all right the biggest thing you learn me was the simplicity of a keep it simple dr. Bob said it loud and clear his last talk keep it keep it civil don't have level 40 and complex and listen I'll keep that intelligent mind out of it and I say see the professional mind out of it keep the professional mine out of this don't figure nothing out out. Don't figure nothing out. 1969, I was over 18 months, I had the privilege to go to New York City with these people from New York city and I got to hear and talk to Bill Wilson, you know. And I was very, very fortunate, you know, and Bill Wilson, he's always said, keep the professional mind out of it. Keep the professional mine out of them. Don''t figure nothing out. don't figure anything out. 1969, I was over 18 months. I had the privilege to go to New York City with these people took me to New York City and I got to hear and talk to Bill Wilson you know and I was very very fortunate you know. And Bill Wilson, he knew how excited I was. I'm 29 years old and he seen how excited I was and said kid, I'm going to tell you something. He said keep this simple boy. He says pass it on that's all you gotta do. One drum to another. Do for somebody else what what these guys did for you. Don't complicate nothing, don't figure nothing out. It was good enough with Bill Wilkinson and good enough for me for 32 years. Don t dream good in the things your life s about to change. You know? And they told me what I had to do in the beginning. Get a home group, get a sponsor. They told me about these four absolutes. And everywhere they went, they told be with them. Banquets, dinners, anniversaries. They were good to me. They did everything for me. They knew I didn t have no money. I didn't work. work and I wasn't able to say, I wasn' t able to do nothing. But these guys would buy me tickets for different occasions and they were good to me. And they'd take me out to eat every night these guys. Different guys taking me out every night. You know what they'd take me to eat? They'd go on the bulletin board and look at where all those eating meetings were in Cleveland. In Cleveland a lot of, like they had out of issues here tonight. That's where I lived all that three years. My wife, I was sober now three or four months And my wife found out that I was sober. She found out where I was hanging out at. And she called that club up there. And the old town name got on my phone and talked to her. I committed that night. He said, I already said you don't pay child support. Who told you? Your ex-wife called here hunting you tonight. You don't play child support? You're no damn good. You're a damn belly robber, he said. You must start paying for your kids. So what? Somebody else down there laying with him? I'm not paying for my kids? No way. No way, he says. if you don't start paying child support and do decent things, I don't want you here. Get out of here. We don't like you here." Hey, he says, good people. We're going to learn how to do decent things. You never was decent until them kids were born. Gus says, when do you get paid? I said, tomorrow night. Bring me your paycheck. What? Me for you what? He said, yeah. If you want to come back, bring me your paycheque. I took Gus my paycheck the next night like a little boy. Gus said, now what are you all out of there for? I've got to pay twice a week for rent. Is that the highest sleeping room. I said, I got to buy cigarettes. He said, how much are cigarettes? At that time, what, 20 cents, 25 cents a pack? He said you don't need tailor-made. He told me I was carting a bugler. He says a bugle is good enough for you. You don't need tailor made. They said now here, call your wife and tell her to come up here and get this money. I asked, for what? Do what I said or don't come back. And where do you cash that check at? Oh, I cash it in a saloon. I run in real quick and come back out. That thing across the street is called a bank. They bring me a check next week I'll take you show you how to catch a check that's put me by the hair like a little boy took me in the bank and the bank is full of people are fighting me he's already he hard across the bank to tell him here's his good check he's alright he's one of them new junkies across the street he's alright and bring in the money oh shit I did what I was told I don't know why I did what i was told to do and uh they told me they had to clean me up and by that time I would get out cleaned up I had new clothes my mother got us new your clothes. I was able to take a shower, you know. Gus said, you're filthy. I said, what do you mean I'm filthy? I'm taking your day to clean you up. Don't ask questions. Either you go, either you do what I tell you to do or don't bother coming back here. Get in the damn car. I got in the car and Gus took me out, got me a bike seat, took me around Cleveland on the west side, took me back in the woods and I seen the big sign retreat out. What in the hell am I going in here for? We're gonna clean you up boy you're dirty. What do you mean I'm dirty? So when I see that priest, I went in and I thought if I go to the priest down here, I don't know what they want you to clean me up. I'm clean. The priest laughed. He told me to sit down and the priest told me three easy things. Three easy things I'll never forget. First, you got to find God. You got to change houses and help others. I found God through the people of vain. Changing houses, getting rid of the garbage doing a fourth the fish stepped on further retreat and help another do for them always done for me that's what I've been trying to do for the past 32 years help others they made me get active early you know thank God these old timers they got reactive early they they told me get a hold of I joined my home group which was Ramona's group. My sponsor was a secretary, but he moved, you know. These guys were grooming me, but they moved. And these two old farts, they told me one day, we want you to be secretary of the Ramona group until we get somebody. We know you don't know much about it. The government makes the coffee and open the doors up and you'll be secretary. Okay, we'll send somebody over in a couple months. 17 years later they still hadn't found nobody. They wanted to see if I'd become responsible. They made me responsible. Can you imagine a guy like me, undependable, unreliable, every Monday night for 17 years being in the same place with the same child? And they told me to go visit the hospital. I went and visited the hospital, the little nursing home. I just tried to do what was done for me. I found this is the new way of life. They learned me how to grow up. They learned how to behave myself. And this is what it's all about. They didn't confuse me with all that bullshit I hear today, and they didn't take no note of that. You do it our way or no way. Our way or hit the highway. You ask us for help. Today, they wanted to daze and coax. These guys didn't coax me. You either do it or you don't. You should have got off the pot, plain as that. I'm sorry. And this was just what I did. And I like this new way of life. and I know it's only for the power greater myself and things begin to happen in my life things turned around you know just because you're sober don't mean things will go well every day I'm sober six seven years the woman that I loved the most the woman I hurt the most was my mother so I love my mother I was able to make direct amends for my mother direct amens linear amends when my mother died my mother was living with my sisters with the terminal illness that regards mercy and have a lot of good people out of my mother's house every day and I think this house is my mother and I'm sitting there with her reading to her helping her eat talking to her to some of friends with me when I'm on the diet she was screaming Johnny help me on me she had so much pain it was nothing I could do yeah but his knees I have a disease they gave me applause steps before absolute and don't drink go to meetings I couldn't do that with my mother when she died when she died she told me two days before she died she said I don't want to go she's I know I'm going who's gonna take care of you she's not only even doing good and you have these people in your life thank God when she was died let go go ahead Zuma go though it was hard it was a bitch but then I watched my mother die but thank God I was there I wasn't some plot awesome building from garage that come get me out I was able to be there I I was able to make a raid and take her body back to PA and bury her. To be accountable for the first time in my life, to be accountable. In 1976, I thought I would restore the sanity, but every time I wasn't, I remarried. Things didn't work out. She was in the program, she wasn't. She went, she didn't go. Our lives were pretty good. I was able to buy a house, but then when things got worse and we grew apart, it started to get us. In 1976, I was 35 years old. I had my first heart attack at 36 years old and at 36-years-old, I was admitted to Charity Hospital and they told me they'd have to triple bypass surgery on me. Scared the living hell out of me. I'm 37 years...I'm 36-year-old and they're going to operate on my heart and these old tires and one guy in particular named Dick popped me. He came know I've got a dick up there why me I'm focused of these why not you it's your turn shut up why not at your turn separate things you can't change you said that's ready for many times but saying and doing a few different things and these guys helped me through it and I come to the heart 30 is live colors 1985 another bad heart attack in 1985 doctors told me up that last heart attack. He sat me down and he said, I got some bad news for you, John. And I thought, what the hell? He said, you'll never be able to work again. So 45 years ago, I said, what? He says, you're never going to be able to work against me. I said shit, what's so bad about that? I worked 22 years in the shop after I sobered up and I was able to apply an order to receive a disability. God is good to me and I get disabilities today. My health has been bad. You know, I've read all of that. The way I live, the way I carry on, I can't expect to have somebody else. You pay a price, I believe this. But through God's grace and help a lot of good people, I was able to overcome this. 1985, this marriage of 10 years went down the drain. She got a divorce and it was bitter. And I hated her, you know. We're good friends today, but I hated it. You know when God closes one door in with another. 1985 I didn't drink. I kept going to meetings. I did what I had to do, and my wife is today called my life in 1990. Carol here. When Carol chased me down Fleet Avenue with a lasso, she caught me. Now we met in our club when Carol and I started dating or whatever. We're married today. We have a good life together. We bought a home together. She's got two daughters. She got three grandchildren. I got them two boys. Three grandchildren. It's a good lifestyle. The daughter's a big one. Carol and I've been able to share a together today our homies open our lives open book we try to help drunk we try to have drugs like I'm trying to get Harry there's something on your wine and women Carol just took out my nerve I ain't no patient they're calling why I got a toothache through the dentist I don't want you but in damn suffer well my don't tell you I know they're dinners killing those damn dinner and you talk about please death over for a while well we're maintaining here on we're making heroin I don't know about a damn heroin go to a junkie what do I know about heroin your wine yeah I can talk to you father than I never maintained I never took it there's a whiney went to a meeting and then said I was sober hell you're fooling area for three afternoon. You don't drink nothing, you don't toot it, shoot it, hoot it. Whatever you do about it. I don't want to do this bullshit today. I think it's funny, you know. They bong it and bang it and smoke it and snort it. If you're going to go back out get a damn bottle of wine like I did. Get good and drunk. Get good and junk. And I believe there can't be all things to all people. There can't be all thing to all peoples. We got to be single for purpose. One drunk helping and another. And you know, about three weeks ago I was in a hospital for about three days. I had a stroke here about five or six years ago, and I got sugar. The guy said, I don't cry about it, what the hell. I said, you'll be crying. That stroke, you know, got a good therapy and I was able to maintain a little bit with the cane. Three weeks ago, I woke up, I couldn't breathe. Oh, I was gasping for air, and my My honey, I called her worker. She came and she took me to the hospital and I was having congestive heart failure. I was filling up with fluid. And they did what they had to do. They gave you pills and they'd just pee like a racehorse. Get rid of that water. So what's that? That's the price I gotta pay. And I got a bad valve, they told me, in my heart and because they should operate but they said it's too risky and I'm blocked up again. I need some more bypasses. But the risks are outweigh the benefits. I said, but God will take care of me. I believe it. If I sit out tonight and die in this chair after I get done leaving, I'll pay for everything I got in the age. Age is good to me. Age will be good for all of you if you let them be good to you. The better way of life. You don't have to live drunk no more. And all I have to do is go drink, go to me and help another drunk. And I think when I die, when I go to meet my neighbor, he's not going to ask me how much money did you have, John? What kind of big car did you drive? what kind of big house did you have? He's going to ask me, did you feed my sheep? And I hope I can say, yea Lord, I fed your sheep because that's my birth. Is the cradle all clear now?