The Truth That Set Him Free from the Bondage of Hatred – Dave C.

At this time, I'd like to introduce to you Dave C. from Raleigh, North Carolina. Would you please welcome him? This here? Before I again two comments, I've been a lot of these deals, but I've never had the privilege of sitting at a table or anything like this. uh the second comment is uh it is good to be back here at your 10th annual roundup before i left home my wife said two things when i told her where i was coming she said you're going back you weren't you out there one time before i said yeah she said well either one or two things they didn't understand a damn thing you said or either you come mighty cheap and But I'm glad to be here and chairing this weekend and see a lot of old friends and meet some new friends, I hope. Every time I go to one of these things and get ready to get up here, I think about a story that I've told many times, I guess every time I stood at the podium. It's about a store that... And I'm very thankful that I'm the only speaker right now. You know, you go to some of these signs and hell, they have four or five speakers and the chairman talks and tells his story and then somebody else gets up and tells that story and the speaker sits there and just gets ready to go and never gets up there until the latter part of the meeting and everybody's ready to get up. Everybody's ready to go home but I had a convention back in my home state many years ago and they had one of these long-winded speakers and he got into 12 steps talked about an hour on the 12 steps and then another hour he got in the 12th edition Then in the third hour he got into three legacies of Alcoholics Anonymous, and gradually people they begin to leave. And they will leave. I found it out one night. They will leave, and sure enough everybody left except one man who kept sitting right on the front row. And of course the Speaker got concerned so he wound up his talk, ran down from the podium, grabbed the man by the hand and said, I want to ask you one question. Everybody left but you. Why did you stay? the next speaker. Well, you know what I'm talking about. I'm an alcoholic. My name's Dave Cook. Hi, everybody. By God's grace and because this program worked for me, through the help of some understanding sponsors who have led me with a kind but firm hand, and through the love of a loving wife that I found as a result of this program, and through the help of many people just like you, I haven't found it necessary to take a drink or any tablets since the day I come to Alcoholics Anonymous and that day was September 12, 1957. I don't give my sobriety date to impress you. Sometimes it impresses the hell out of me, I'll be honest. I give it for two reasons and two reasons only. I came in to Alcoholic Anonymous in Roanoke, Virginia in what was then known as the Old Central Group. The first discussion meeting I ever went to in my sobriety was on a Monday night they had 13 or 14 wicker chairs sitting in the circle I was no different from anybody else that goes there first discussion meeting I began to wonder what I was going to say when it got to me and it finally got to me and the man who is to become my first sponsor spoke up and told me what to say he said give you name and your sobrieta date that's all you're qualified to do and as a matter of fact after the meeting he explained to me that that's all I was going to be qualified to do for the next year. And that's about the truth of it, was to give my name and my sobriety date. The second reason in that group, they had a saying that if you were a member of that group and you got behind the podium, if you didn't give your sobriete date, you usually didn't have one. So that's the reason I give my sobrietate date. I've received a lot of benefits from this program called Alcoholics Anonymous. Some Some of these benefits, well, most of them are called marginal benefits such as some peace of mind, a little serenity and a lot of happiness. Any time I speak of marginal benefits, I have to think of a certain basic benefit that I receive. And the basic benefit this alcoholic received from Alcoholics Anonymous beyond my sobriety—of course, the sobriete hadn't come first—the basic benefit I've received is my sanity. My sanity. And today as a sane alcoholic, I find now that I don't have to run anymore. I don' t have to cheat or steal any more, I don''t have to lie any more. And the bottom line is, I do not have to sober up any more and I did not know that when I arrived at Alcoholics Anonymous. I am one of the fortunate ones. Back in the fifties there was no such thing as a man or many men or many boys as I called coming into AA in Alcoholics Anonymous at the age of 29. And this is no reflection on the older man that comes in the program, but I was very fortunate. Started drinking when I was about 16 off in college. Knew what liquor could do to a man. I'd seen what happened to my father. He was an alcoholic. I didn't know it until I got into AlcoholicsAnonymous and began to know something about the disease. As a matter of fact, I didn' t know anything about alcoholism until I get into Alcoholic Anonymous. And for many years in the places that I, my mother—I speak a lot about my mother. The places that my mother and my family tried to send me, to help me, and I went to a lot of them from the time I was sixteen until I was twenty-nine, particularly in the latter five years of my drinking. Every way I went everybody told me what the problem was but nobody gave me a solution until I got in the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous and I'm very fortunate to be here this afternoon and be a member. And when I say I'm a member of Alcoholic Anonymous, I somehow think that I'm member of an organization that has a lot of dignity to it because I've seen a lot of people come into this program just like me and found a way of life that set them in a new direction. And I found something that I never had before, and that was love and understanding. And that's what I found when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, love and understanding. It didn't take me long to get here, about 13 years in my—I'm not going to talk a lot about my drinking. But from the time I started drinking in college, and I had a good time with it until I finished school, and when I started doing strange things, I studied engineering, but because of my basketball ability I coached high school basketball for several years. And later on drinking came into the life where it got to be a problem not only in my schoolwork and the profession I was in. I was eventually kicked out of the profession I had been in on account of my drinking. And the only way I had to go was back to what you do too and a lot of people usually do is back to mother—my mother. And I was one of these fellows that had a mother that loved me to death, the only son that had about everything I needed growing up. And when I went through the latter stages of my alcoholism she did everything that she knew to do, except she didn't know anything about Alcoholics Anonymous. I went to a lot of not—they weren't called treatment centers at that time, they were called drying-out places, a lot up and down the East Coast. And eventually it came to a point that they had to put me in a place where I'd be confined on account of my drinking, which was in the beginning the insane asylum. In my home state, the state insane asylum is called Dix Hill. And I've often said I, too, found my thrill on Dix hill. That's where I went for the cure of it. I went to Dixhill the first time when I was 26 years of age, not knowing why I was there. And I'd had a lot of problems, a lot o' problems. But I didn't understand that I had any problem with drinking. Oh, there was a time, and you probably identify with this, there was the time when I used to be down and out and I had to bargain with somebody to get something. I used take a little glancing look at myself and say maybe it's the beer, maybe it is the wine, maybe it' s this, maybe i' s that. And I'd kind of get over that drunk and invariably, each time as I began to get my health back, the lie in me would revive again and I'd become that same person over again and just went on and on and I went to Dixie of my first time and I don't know they caught put me in a place the first day they called the inebriate Ward didn't know what it meant but it sounded pretty good and this was a lot of people that had a lot problems and a few days later they put me in another place which was simply defined as a place down in a basement padded sale that took my clothes away from me let me have my running fits and And days later, when I got through having them run in fits, they gave my clothes back to the men. Then I was allowed to do the only thing I could do for the next thirty-some odd days. And that was walk up and down the corridor day in and day out wondering what in the hell I was doing there because I began to look around me. And there were—the men there, nobody was there my age, nobody. One night these older men were playing poker, using matchsticks for chips. And these men began to discuss the reason they were there. And I heard one man speak up and said, �I�m here because my wife put me here.� She wanted to get rid of me. She dumped me. She put me her. And the first thought came through my mind, �That�s what my mother wanted to do, just get rid on me.� And then I heard this man speak and I can see his face this afternoon just as plain as it was 20-some years ago. This man spoke up, well, 30-some years ago, because this man spoke up and says, I'm here because I'm an alcoholic. I'm hier because I am an alcoholic. That was the first time I ever heard the word, and it had some connotation to me. And my reasoning then was that whatever what it was, I began to identify with it on the respect of my father. And I began to play a game then that was to plague me until I came to Alcoholics' Mamas, maybe after I'd been in the Eighth, was comparing my drinking with my father's drinking. And if the truth was known about my father, he was a much better man than I ever hoped to be when I was drinking. My father lost his family on account of his drinking. He never got kicked out of his profession. My father never had to be put in an insane asylum on account was drinking, but his son did. And I guess one of the hardest amends that I've ever had to made was to my father after he passed away. And somehow or another through this program I feel like I've made that amend, but it was the hardest thing I've never done. The day came that I had to leave this place. I didn't want to leave, but I went back to the only place I could go. Here's a man 26 years of age, had been successful in the profession he was in. And you know, you don't come home except on holidays or special occasions. Somebody dies or a wedding or something. But here I am at the wrong time of the year at home. And people begin to ask you, what are you doing at home? And you don�t tell them you�ve been in Dick�s Hill. You know, he had another one of those nervous breakdowns. And I had a lot of nervous breakdown. But I�d been at home about nine weeks doing nothing, and I'd been running around with a bunch of fellows that I'd been in school with. And the family doctor who was always concerned about my health, particularly my nerves, had me in for a physical one day, and he gave me some tablets to take. I don't know anything about pills or drugs, but I know a great deal about tablets. And he gave мне some tablets zu тейк, and I didn't have to drink as long as I took them tablets, because it did everything for me that was supposed to do. It just, as the old boy said, it just made me loose as a goose most of the time. I just swam right on, you know, go with the flow. And eventually it led to the drinking again and then eventually it related to a place I said I'd never go again was back to Dix Hill. Because of one fact, I'd become an alcoholic although I didn't know it because I'd gotten to the point in my drinking where I'd take one drink and I could no longer guarantee you my behavior. Now make a long story short, I went back to Dix Hill five times in six months on account of one fact. I was an alcoholic although I didn't know it. The last time I went back they put me in the nut part of the bug house instead of the drying-out part, and there's a distinct difference. And that's when I found out about the straitjackets being tied down to a bed. And I found out how you live better electrically, too. And I found some things I had never experienced before and I began to be—I was with a bunch of people this time that—I look back sometimes in the past and it seems like a bad dream. These people were the insane. They didn't have an alcoholic problem. And And I began to think I was one of them, that I was one of him. I've said many times, and I still contend, that this power that we speak of in alcoholics and elements, I really believe this power works in our life before we ever get here. And sometimes we're not fortunate enough to realize it, and I wasn't. But there were a lot of coincidences before I ever got to AA. And one happened in this nut ward I was in. One day they just took me out of there and put me back over in the drying-out place with the rest of the rummage. I don't know why, but they put me over there with the rest of the drunks, and I'd been there so much that it more or less made me an honorary attendant. And they let me work in the kitchen and go get the mail and little things like that that had a lot of responsibility in them and one day going to get the mail two other fellows myself decided we'd leave well I don't want to sound dramatic but we escaped we ran like hell then was like at that time was like cops and robbers all points bulletin we put is in the city of Raleigh captain's where I live now and in the process of about three days we were in three hotels and out of free hotels. And finally one day I took advantage of a friend of the family that my mother knew in that city and got money to stay drunk, and finally he had to send me home back to my hometown. Unbeknownst to me, my mother was up in Richmond, Virginia with a nervous breakdown on account of me. Now I'd been in my mother's home for a period of about two weeks when they brought her home and found me. And that afternoon after they got her home. They got together, and you know what I'm speaking of when I say they. Now they are those people that get in the other room, normally the den, and ask you to stay in the kitchen. And they crack the door and they begin to talk about how much they love you but what they've got to do. And uh, they were a friend of the family who was like a father to me and my two sisters and my mother. And they called me in, and they told me they wanted me to leave that part of the country. They gave me a wad of money and told me I was killing mothers, that they wanted me to live that part of the county. And there's nothing that a practicing alcoholic likes any better than to get some green on his hip because problems begin to be relieved immediately. And I thought that was a very good suggestion, and I thought I could leave that part of country with the money they had. And it was a good sum of money. I could have come out of this part of the country and live comfortably for a while. And so I left home that day with great aspirations, coming this way, and went to a neighboring town four miles from my hometown and pulled on the hotel, an old broken-down hotel, and did what only I could do was start drinking again. And a few months later they found me again, and I began to develop another habit that I found out some other alcoholics had the problem. I began to write checks. I'd write checks, sign my name real well, and didn't have money in the bank. For a while, my mother would take care of them, but it got to the point that she was rather slow. But I went over to my hometown one day and I bought an outboard motor. Didn't have a boat, but I bought a motor. You know, write a big check, get the change, pick up the motor later, and they called my mother to tell her my motor was ready and she put two and two together And that afternoon, John Law was there and had me back in that local jail, three blocks from my mother's home. For a period of about two weeks, I guess, every night in that drunk tank, everyone they brought in there was gone the next morning except me. And one night I began to get worried, raised them out of hell down there to get the jailer down there. And I wanted to talk to my attorney. And I went to talk with him to see what the problem was. And he said, Who is your attorney? I told him, he says, talk to him all you want to. He's in an Excel block, and he sure was. And he couldn't do me any good. And strange as it may seem, this man is now a member of Alcoholics Numbers, has been for a number of years a member out of state legislature. And that's a lot of them people have been in jail one time or another. But he's a good man. But nobody came until one day they carried me upstairs and tried me in the court of law for something I didn't know I'd done on a previous drum. And you have to understand this scene. My sister was city clerk, and when they called my name she didn't seem to know who I was. Didn't bat an eye. And the city solicitor was my mother's next-door neighbor. He didn't seemed to know me either. And then the next day I had to go to another courthouse further down the road traveling east. In my part of the country you get traveling east in the state of North Carolina, you wind up out there at the big body of water, and I just kept traveling east. And the end result was out of that courthouse again something I didn't know I'd done on a previous drunk guy. I had to be put away for a while on a chain gang. I've always been ashamed of it, still ashamed of. Now my first year in AA, I never mentioned it until my sponsor told me to start talking about it. Said it was part of my sobriety. Still ashamed of but I can say this today, that if it took this for me to eventually get to Alcoholics Anonymous, I thank God for it. And in my case, I think this was a part of it. There are a lot of people in this day and time that can put the plug in the jug and don't have to lose everything they've got and come on in here and make mighty good memories. I wasn't that way. I had to be beat down from my knees before I could see myself. And that's the thing that I don't understand about this disease today, even after the sobriety that I have and the people that I talk to and share with. And that's the inability of the alcoholic to see himself as he really is in his worst moments. This is a thing that we just about die from. We cannot see ourselves as we really are. But however, the thing that I was talking about earlier, this saving grace is one thing, this higher power. I really believe there comes a time in all our lives, in our drinking lives, if you're an alcoholic and you think back sometimes, there was a chance at one time or another that you wanted to do something about it, but you wasn't quite sure. You just had to be beat some more. And that's the way I was. When I left this place, again, I went back to the only place I thought I could go. And that was back to my mother's home. Nobody would have anything to do with me then in the family. And I had worked harder than I ever worked in my life. And I don't know why I do today, but this time I went to my mother's house and I went through the back door instead of the front door. asked to see her. And unbeknownst to me, I tried to take my mother's life on a previous drunk and didn't know nothing about it, and she was scared of me. And that afternoon they got together again, and they began to argue about what they were going to do with me. And I heard my mother say, I was in the next room. That's my boy. And he stays here tonight whether you like it or not. And that's when I made a vow, and I don't recommend this before AA or after AA, I made the vow then to myself that I just wouldn't drink any more for her. Just wouldn't drinking anymore. I'd be a good boy. And I was able to do this for a period of about six months afterwards, and one day it was suggested maybe I should go to work. Been about two-and-a-half years in and out of hospitals, and now I used to have a good time when the IRS used to come see me about taxes, when I was drinking in the vineyard. And they'd come to the house and I'd go outside and talk to them. You didn't file taxes last year? Where were you? What was the problem?" I said, It was in Dix Hill, in St. Asylum, and they didn't believe it. Go ask Mother, she can tell you things like that. I was interviewed through several jobs. I didn't think I could get a job teaching the State of North Carolina after what had happened to me in my past. And through an agency up in Richmond, Virginia, I was interviewed in several states for openings and jobs and coaching high school basketball. And one afternoon my mother carried me on this trip—it took us about a week to be interviewed at these places. I wound up in Roanoke, Virginia and a man began to talk to me. Got on the phone and got on the telephone, found out about me and all that appeared about five minutes that I had a problem with drinking at one time, that he understood that I was cured now. And I said, Yes, sir, I am, I think, and everything's just fine. He said, Well, we want you to go to work for us. And I had to go back to my hometown the next day and make arrangements to come back, and my mother financed this whole expedition, a new start in life in spite of where I'd been. And on the way back, I decided I'd have one drink. After a period of about six months, I'd had one drink but about two pints. You know how we had to subtract. You know, have one drank, but you buy two pincers. And this was the beginning of the last drunk, the only drunk that I'd really like to talk about. The only drunk I'd like to really talk about is my last drunk. And I'm one of these fellows who believe this, that if I forget my last one, I might have another one coming. And I don't like to think about it, but I know this that I experienced things on this last drunk I never experienced before. I was able to last at the job for about five days and when the school officials found out what was wrong, they tried to help me to the best of their ability. And the help again in the beginning with was money. They did the best they could and fired me twice. And then the the clincher I guess was about midway this drunk when my mother got in touch with me on a telephone. And my mother gave me the greatest gift she's ever given me since the day I was born. That's when she kicked me out of a life, and I knew she meant it, and wished me luck. And it was just a few days later that when everything ran out, I was on the streets doing the best I could. On Sunday morning, September 11th, 1957, I was in a back alley in downtown Roanoke, Virginia, on Skid Row, getting ready to take a drink of liquor. And the thought occurred to me that I was going to die in that back alley from what I was doing, and I didn't want to die in that backyard. And I had some other thoughts, and Ernie and I were talking this morning about it. I'd gotten to the point in my life that I was sick and tired of being sick and tried. I was sickness tired of Dave Cook. I was tired of the high cost of low living, and that's what it is. I'd got to the part that I wanted to do something other than what I wasn't doing. I didn't want to die there. And I remember the moment, I remember just it seemed to me that everything on the face of the earth stopped moving and there was complete silence. And then a thought occurred to me, my God, what do I do? What do I because in spite of the places I'd been for these nervous breakdowns, in spite of the places I'd been where doctors and ministers had talked to me, I thought I was a leper. I thought that I was the only person on God's green earth like me. And maybe another coincidence happened. The only man that knew me on a first-name basis who was a superintendent of city schools had been looking for me for two days. And that man found me in that back alley that morning—a superintendent of the city schools. He didn't know anything about Alcoholics Anonymous but he knew a man that knew something about AA. And he got in touch with him, and I was carried to Alcoholics Anonymous that afternoon down to a 12-step clubhouse called the Easy Does It Club. And I never want to forget the day as long as I live. They carried me up the steps. It got to the point that I wasn't, you know, just, I was immobile. I wasn�t drunk. I drank so much that I couldn�t find the oblivion anymore. I hurt all over. My hair hurt. My My toenails hurt. And they carried me up the steps, and the main fact was I'd stop eating everything that I had to my name I had on. And they carry me up those steps, now I remember walking in that room and they began to look me over. We say we don't look them over when they come in, but by God you looked me over! And as you were looking me over, the fellow that brought me began to talk to some members and there was an old gentleman standing in the right-hand corner of the room. Another got behind the podium, I don't mention this man, but the old man's name was John Tullock, Old Man John we called him. And Old Man john called me to the side of the room and just gave me a wiggle with his fingers and I walked over and he put his arm around my shoulder. His son says, I want to tell you something. All you've got to do is do what these people tell you to do and you never have to be alone again. Do what they tell you to do and you'll never have to be along again. And what that old man was telling me then, although I didn't know it, was the first few lines of chapter 5 where it says, Rarely have we seen a person fail who is thoroughly following our path. That's what old man John was telling him. Now let me tell you about old man John. Old man John rang my bell, and I think when we walk in the doors, somebody rings our bell. And I like bell ringers. Some of them I don't like sometimes what they say, but he rang my Bell and got my attention and told me what I had to do and what the promise was. Old man, John came to AA when he was 76 years of age. He died at 82 with six continuous years sobriety I helped bring. And this is the man that I identified with when I came into Alcoholics Anonymous and didn't know anything about it. An old man, John, got through talking to me, and then you began to talk to me and the rest of the members. And I began to shake a little, and I said something about a drink, and they said, No, we don't do it that way. You get too bad, we're going to get you a doctor. Then I said some about some tablets, and I thought I'd started a revolution. And he said, no, we don't do it that way. He said, drink some of the coffee. Now what am I about to say is no reflection on whoever who made the coffee? But I've always contended, and I still contend, there are a hell of a lot of people in Alcoholics Anonymous making coffee that ain't got no business doing it. And this was one of those days. It was that ropey stuff. You know, it just hung. They said, drink it. Well, I thought it was a requirement. And I drank the coffee. I drank that coffee until I got sick from drinking coffee. They carried me to my first meeting that night, and I don't know what went on. I wanted to jump out of the one. I sat on my hands. But after the meeting, A.A. was there. A.E. was here when the meeting began. I didn't know it. But strangers walked up to me, just like some people I don'T know here today. some strangers walked up to me and said Dave we love you and we understand and you're gonna be all right complete strangers we love him we understand you're going to be alright and if nobody told you that when you walk into the doors of alcoholics amount as far as I'm concerned you've got short change because that's all we got our offer is love and understanding and I And I really believe that when my sobriety began that night, when it was proved to me I didn't have to be alone any more—and I'll tell you how it went. Three men got me a room at the YMCA and stayed with me all night long. They took turns sitting on top of me. They didn't nurse me, but I began to shake. And they had a doctor on call in case I got too bad, but they talked to me all night. And the next morning the sun begun to come up, and one of them said, you've been so many hours without a drink, maybe you can make it today and that's all we do. Just one day at a time. First time I ever heard it. One day at the time. Seems simple to some people but it meant a lot to me that day. One Day at a Time because that was the first time that I began to have just a little hope that maybe I could make it that day but somehow in the dark recesses of my mind I knew one thing and I don't know why but I knew if I made it that day I had to be around them to do it and that's the way I feel today for me to make this date I've got a round be around you to do it and thats the way it's been ever since and that the way is going to continue to be as long as I want this program well the next morning I met the man who has become my first sponsor down at the easy-dozy club again he began to ask me a lot of questions most of my answers were rather negative do you have have a job?" No. Do you have a family? No. How many checks do you have out?" I wondered how he knew that. He asked me a lot of things that I didn't want to respond to, and it was all negative. And finally he said, Well, it seems to me that you're not doing so hot. And that wasn't hard to understand. No, I was not doing hot. And then he began to tell me about Alcoholics Anonymous, what it could do for me if I could do certain things. He asked three questions. asked me, he says, do you want to quit drinking worse than anything else on God's green earth? And I did. Are you willing to do what we tell you to do? And I was. And then he asked me a question and you don't hear it much nowadays, but Dr. Bob talked about it. It's in the book. Are you within to quit drinkin' forever? By God, I told him a lie. I said, yes sir, I am. And, you know, forever I knew what that was, but I didn't want to leave. But that's what this thing is about, it's forever. It's forever if you want it to be forever. And I really believe that from what I know now, from the way I was led in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous through the steps and through the book and through the traditions, that it is a program forever if we want it. If you don't want it, it's not. It's just that simple. But I wanted some of it. And that man got me a room the next day in a place, a rooming house, where I lived with six other men, all of them in their eights, when I was had as a room. I don't know how the rent was paid or who bought my clothes my first six months in Alcoholics Anonymous, but somebody did. And I began a life in sobriety and my early sobrietry that I never want to forget as long as I live. I don't know why, but George and I were talking about it earlier. The Alcoholics Anonymous has changed in the past 20-some years. There are a lot of changes, and some of them good. I look back now, and the thing that I'm most concerned about is sponsorship. And I say to myself now when I'm working with anybody, if I can give them half of what I got, they're going to be all right. But I've got the whole load. I had sponsorship, and with dignity too. But these six men, I learned much from them. None of us had a job, but we shared a lot. We shared a little bit. We shared it a lot, and out of those six men to date, two of them are sober, two of whom died on account of going back to drinking. They stopped going to meetings. One of them had 13-year sobriety. The other blew his brains out. two of them are drinking. Two weeks ago. And it usually happens about once a month, the one I'm calling is the one that's drinking, has been drinking for twenty-some years, close to 28 years. And the question he asks me every time is this, why could you do it and I couldn't? That's all he ever asked me. And only answer I can get him is the same thing that you told me when I walked in the doors. I followed the directions. And that's the only reason I'm sobering here today, that I followed the directions." Well, I got physically sober, and that's about all, and hanging around a lot. That group I belonged to was a very unusual group. They had a steering committee that was real tough. Hell, if you were chairman and you got a speaker from out of town, you had to go through the steering committee. And nobody ever talked unless you had nine months sobriety. That's at a meeting, an open meeting. You didn't talk unless you have nine months. And I finally got nine months and they let me talk. And I'll be honest with you, it don't bother me when somebody tells me to sit down and eat in the day because I'm used to it. First talk I ever made in Alcoholics Anonymous. One of the fellows who got drunk in the boarding house, and the other fellows brought him to the meeting. And I thought the idea was that I was supposed to give it to him, you know. And hell, he didn't even know what was going on. You know, just ran back, and I gave a talk on not—I'd never heard of one, but I gave one on how not to slip. And begin—I had been gone about ten or fifteen minutes, and I heard somebody say, �Sit down.� And, you know, we don't hear them. And I kept on talking, and he got louder. He said, �I said sit down.� Now, hell, I kept talking. And then he came to the podium and just got me by the arm and said, I said, sit down. And I walked down that aisle and the rest of them, you know, all wild-eyed, you Know. And the thought was going through my mind was this. Evidently, I got a little bit too much power for him tonight and he don't want me to overdo it. You can begin to see the stage that I was going through after about nine months because I did go through a stage in my early sobriety that I'd like to share with you. It was so, it got to the point after a while, after about a year, that I got to a point where I'd go 300 miles to make a talk, but I couldn't go one mile to listen. And you're kind of in bad shape if you can't do that. You've got to listen." And I had met my present wife, Sue, after I'd been sober about six months. And this was another gift—maybe it was a coincidence, but I call it a gift from God. My wife has never seen me drunk, never seen my drink. But she's been through more hell than my first wife did because Sue has seen me try to grow up. And that's what I'm still trying to do is grow up! And she's a wonderful help to me. After I'd been sober for a while, and like I said, that group held it. They had a room adjacent to the meeting room. They called it the conference room, but what it really was was the inventory room. They'd call you in and just sit you down and take your inventory, whether you liked it or not. I mean it. I mean, you just listened and they told you what was wrong with you, and if you couldn't do that, well, you could leave. And that's the way AA was given to me, and that's all the thing I understood. And the man that saw my employment problem, one night he called me in and wanted to talk about me going to work. And most of them had less education than I. The man that had—that saw my unemployment problem had a third-grade education. His name was Redd. He was a sign painter. And Redd spoke up with great wisdom. He said, Dave, it seems to me that if you studied engineering in college, that's what you ought to be doing in life. hell, nobody ever explained it to me that way before. And so with Red's help, I went the next day to see the Virginia Highway Department and talked to the man, the chief engineer over there, and told him the truth about me and A.A., and this was a beginning of a revelation that I've never forgotten. This man told me, like so many other people, if you're willing to help yourself, we're willing to help you too. After I told him The Truth, and I've come to know this, in this matter, that as long as you tell the truth, you don't have to tell a lie. And there's no resistance against the truth. And I told him the truth and he says, and this was in the early part of December in 1957, scared to death to go to work. Hadn't been in the field, you know why I'd studied. And he asked me, could I go, when could I go to Work? In the next few days, he hoped, and I said, well, I've got a lot of business to attend to? How about the 1st of February?" And he said, that'll be fine. Hell, I didn't know what business was but I was scared. Went back out to the car, Sue and Red were in the car. And, uh, did you get the job? Yes. Well good. When do you go to work? And I told them the 1 st of February. Hell they walked me right back in there. And I went to work the next day. And I was one of those who had to be pushed a little. This is the kind of help that I had, and that's the reason I'm here today sober. So things got better, and it wasn't long before I got to be an authority in the group after about a year and a half. I began to know a few things about sobriety and the program. But as I looked back there was told to me later on I'll begin around you know that when you drink there's a certain environment that you drinking there are different kinds of environment and drinking and I happen to think they have different environments in sobriety whether you like it or not I wasn't hanging around environment sobrieta that wasn't good for me I began to hang around a bunch of people that were telling me to take what I needed out of the steps and throw the rest away you don't have to do this all you got to do is go to don't drink and go to the meetings and just work those steps any way you want to. And I began to think like they did. And one night, they called me in the inventory room, my sponsor and two of the oldest living members in that group, and sat me down. I was sober a year and a half and began to tell me certain things about the program of the Alcoholics Anonymous that I hadn't done. One of the things I hadn�t done, I hadn �t got on this with Dave, that So I had to get into these 12 steps. And that if I couldn't do these things, the outcome was going to be that I was going to get drunk. Now this is a hell of a thing to tell the backbone of the group that he's going to get drunk! But that's what they told me. And I got mad and I got resentful and I was ready to leave there. And I was read to leave and I go at the door and the man who was my sponsor at that time spoke up and asked me one question. He said, �I want to ask you one thing before you leave.� And I said, What is it? He said, When was the last time you thanked God for a day of sobriety? And I got mad at him. I went back to that boarding house and I locked myself up in my room, and the thought of taking a drink never occurred to me. It didn't cross my mind, but I wanted to get back at them. I wanted twist something. I wanted do something to them. So I sat down and I wrote a written resignation to Alcoholics Anonymous. And as I was writing this written resignation, a voice began to come from somewhere. It was an echo. It was the echo of my sponsor's voice and it kept getting louder and louder. When was the last time you thanked God for a day of sobriety? When was that last time it got louder until I was forced down on my knees for the first time in my life, in my sobrietry, and I prayed to a God I knew nothing about? to me then was maybe a question mark in the sky. Maybe yes, maybe no. But I prayed to this God and the end result of what you and I pray, I was able to get up and walk into a bathroom and look in a mirror at Dave Cook eyeball to eyeball for the first time in my life and know what I really was. That I was just a speck on this universe. I was born into the world, and someday I'll die and soon be forgotten. And that if I want to survive, the only thing that I could do was go back to Alcoholics Anonymous, because that's the only thing ever worth it. And so the next night I rejoined Alcoholics Anonymous. And I rejoin every year since then, and it works for me. And I became a member of the group who does the work, make the coffee, set up the chairs, and then after the meeting clean it all up. And those are the things I started doing. And those are the things I still do, because I think that's a part of my sobriety. Along in the middle of 1959, because of the fact I had to move back to North Carolina so I could marry Sue, I moved back to the North Carolina and prior to leaving Roanoke my sponsors lined up a man to sponsor me when I got to Raleigh, North Carolina. And I'll break no anonymity because they were my second sponsors dead. And this man's name was Tom Burrell. He was a native New Yorker. He was one of the first 100 in Alcoholics Anonymous. He'd married a lady in Raleigh who was a member, and this is the man that got hold of me when I got to Raleagh. And I went to his group, and he's the man who rammed a big book down my throat. Because after I moved to Raley, I was one these people to ask you a question and let you know how smart I was. I asked Tom questions. He said, Read the book, then we'll talk. And that's how I got into reading the book. this man who gave me much. He is the man who got me interested in service. He's the man that also gave me a great lesson about standing behind one of these podiums. I'd been sober about five years and started going to a lot of these round-ups and conventions, and saw these jokers standing up here talking. And it seemed to be real good to me because when they got through everybody clapped like hell, gave them a standing ovation in some cases So some people didn't like them sometimes, I'll admit that. And a lot of hugging and kissing, it just looked good to me. So about a week later, I called and told Tom I needed to talk to him, and they had a little ante room there too where you'd go in and have a little private conversation after the meeting. So Tom and I went in a little conference room, and he was one of these people who made you sit down, and he stood up and talked down at you. I sat down, and he said, What's the problem? He said, I said, Tom, I think I'm a convention speaker. Well, I can't repeat what he told me But the end result was I wasn't allowed then to speak for the next three years I was not allowed to speak in an open meeting for three years And he would tell me when And hell, I got so used to it I'd forgotten him Until one night he called me Said, come over to my house and bring Sue with you And I said, what the hell have I done now? You know, you begin to wonder. So I went over and Sue went in the room with Margaret. We went in and did. I sat down and he stood up and he said, Dave, you're going down to Columbia, South Carolina to talk at the state convention. Before you go, there's some things I want to tell you. You do this, you do this and you do that. This is the main thing. They asked me to go first. You're going as a damn substitute and don't you ever forget it as long as you live. So when you get up behind one of these things No matter where it is Just remember that you're substituting That's the way I feel about it Because anything I say I learned it from somebody else In Alcoholics Anonymous It's been passed on to me So I moved to Raleigh And I've been there ever since And things got better And I got interested in service And then in 1965 We started a group That I'm a member of now I've often said That I think my group Is the finest group In the whole wide world And if you don't think the same about your home group, then I suggest you find another one. And that's the way I feel about it because I had some problems with the groups at one time. But I come to realize the problem was me. But I do thank a lot of my home group. And if it wasn't for my home groups, I wouldn't be here today. They allow me to come in case you're interested. I didn't make the choice. And they'd be the first to tell you they didn't have any business being here. They would. They are that way. and there might be somebody here tonight like I was after a year and a half you know when you might be asking yourself this afternoon what is this thing called alcoholics on average is it really for me you might not know you might just be quarreling with yourself or fighting with yourself but if you are I simply say this get honest with yourself more briefly I really believe that the core and guts of this whole program is based on one word and that's the truth the truth the truth because that's what I had to come to know about me was the truth. And there are different kinds of honesty, you know. There's casualty honesty, there's real honesty, and then there's the naked truth. And that's why I'm speaking of it. And that' s what I have to find out about me. Because I really believe this, if you have the ability to be honest with yourself, that this power that we speak of in this universe will set us free. We're leaders. And we can find this sobriety with his help. I really believe it. It took nine and a half years for my mother to accept me back in her life, nine and half years of sobriety. And it came eventually, and that's another story. But they kept telling me to do what you're supposed to do, and this too shall come to pass. Nine and a Half Years, and the day she thinks my mother is still living. And the greatest friend that Alcoholics Anonymous has is my mother. And she thinks it's the best thing in the world, and she knows all my pigeons, the people I work with, and they think more of her than they do of me. I found that out too. But in spite of me being here today and being sober, and I think it's God-given, I've come to know there are certain things I still have to do. I still need to be sober. I still want to know what I have to do in spite of being sober for a period of time. I really believe that I have to continue to have a monumental desire to stay sober. And sometimes this happens about three or four o'clock in the morning And when the phone rings, and there's some guy or gal that wants some help, and the first thing that pops in my mind is, wonder if they can wait till after breakfast? And in that thought process I'll never forget those first three men that carried me to that YMCA that night. And they told me, spent a night with me, and that thought comes back well, that they didn't dropped me, you know, they didn't drop me and say, we'll be back after breakfast. Because I told you when I came here, I was willing to go any length to get this program. I was willing to any length the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. That's what I told my sponsor the first day. I'd do anything he asked me to do. And I have to remember that. The second thing I have do is I have go to meetings of Alcoholic Anonymous, meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. That's where it's at. And you know, in my group, the reason I like it so much is because they know who I am. Not because of my sobriety, but because we share together, eyeball to eyeball, three times a week across the table. And I really believe that the whole deal is we're just surviving among individual egos. That's what the whole deal is. Suppose all of us were alike in a discussion meeting, we'd be rather dull, wouldn't we? But so we have to survive among individual egos, and it's the little people in the group. There's a couple in my group that I speak of very much named Vernon and Gertrude. Both of them ought to have about twenty-five years' sobriety, but they ain't. Vernon ain't going to meetings right now, but he's been sober about two years, and Gretrude now has about two years. She had twelve at one time. But the other people, let me tell you about them. Several years ago, one Christmas, we were having step meetings and this was Christmas Eve night, wasn't many people there, and they let me lead the meeting. It was on the eighth step. And we decided we'd go get a sandwich after the meeting because I just wanted to talk. Well, to be honest with you, didn't have no driver's license and I was carrying them everywhere they had to go. We got in the car and we're riding down the road. been on the eighth step now. And Gertrude said to Vernon, says, Vernon, when are you going to make some amends to me? They'd been married 16 years. When are you going to make some Amends to Me? And Vern turned around and replied to us and said, hell, Gertrud, you're not even on my list. Well, some of you know what I'm talking about. These are the kind of people I've got to be around. Not even on the list. The third thing I have to do is I have to try to work these twelve steps to the best of my ability. I've come to know. You know, there was a time in my sobriety that I was one of these fellows that sat in the back of the room and stepped meeting out and made mockery of it. And because of the environment I was in at that time, I can understand it. But the Twelve Steps is the program as far as I'm concerned and as far you're concerned if you own the program, the Twelve Step of Alcoholics Anonymous. I've come to know this immediately. Well, there's a person I'd like for you to see in me, and then there's a person you'll probably see in me, but there's the person I see in myself. And that's what the whole ball game is about, it's what I see in me. And it's through these steps I've come to know me, that I've become to know me. There's a line in my book that tells me this, We are granted a daily reprieve contingent upon the maintenance of our spiritual condition. I happen to know that my spiritual condition has much improved as long as I have been trying to work these twelve steps to the best of my ability. And that is what it is all about. And the fourth thing I have to do, and you know what I'm talking about. The fourth thing that I have is I have just to hang on some time and do the best I can. Because they told me many years ago there's going to be some things that you're just going to have to hang-on, this too shall come to pass. And I believe it. And I somehow really believe that yesterday is my experience and tomorrow is my hope. And today is going from one to the other and doing the best that I can, and as long as I can walk hand in hand with you down this happy road of destiny that we speak of in Alcoholics Anonymous, I too will be allowed another day of sobriety. That's all it's about, just another day a sobriete and one day at a time. That's the promise. It was promised to me when the first meeting I ever went to, love and understanding. And it was promised me to the last meeting I went to my home group and it will be promised to this weekend is love and understanding, and that's what the the whole deal is about. Coincidence, coincidence. And there have been many in our lives, your life and my life, and I simply say this, that in spite of all these coincidences, if it is a coincidence, I simply define a coincidence as an act of God in the midst of time, that same God that has been doing for you and I that which we could not do for ourselves, God the Father of all mankind. The God that I found in alcoholics and others by sitting down with you and you telling me something about love and understanding. And I found the God of my understanding through people, through people—by your love for me. And I'll tell you a little secret. I didn't like this business called love in A.A. in the early beginning, and I was scared of it. I was afraid of it because for so many years, the way I was raised and the way I was brought up, I always thought love had a price tag hung on it. And today I know in our program that it's free and for fun. And I can't say without a shadow of a doubt that if I'm a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and a man or woman walks in that door and I can love them, I might not like them but I can Love them. If I can' t love them all I've got to remember is one thing. And that was the day I walked into the door because everybody told me that they loved me understood. There are some lines in the book that sum up how I feel about this whole deal, about it in any words that I could put it into. And you've heard me talk about how hatred was in my life when I got here and my past and how love has come along. And these words go something like this, this great experience that released me from the bondage of hatred and replaced it with love is just another affirmation of truth I know. I get everything I need from alcoholics and everything I need, I get. And when I get what I need I invariably find that it was just what I wanted all the time. Thank you very much.