June 8, 1989. Kenny D. walked into a Seattle meeting emaciated and filthy, carrying his shoes in a bag because his feet had abscessed.
He had spent his final days of drinking huddled in a cardboard lean-to behind a McDonald's, listening to the drive-thru noise while living in a state of "pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization." A fisherman by trade, Kenny describes a life of "drug of no choice," from choking himself for euphoria as a child to doing dangerous work in Alaska while completely out of his mind. He speaks of the "vital sixth sense"—that life-giving intuition—and the group of men who "hand-carried" him through the Big Book, reading it word for word and using a dictionary for the parts he didn't understand. From living in a small apartment behind a used car lot to managing a fleet of vessels, Kenny traces his shift from a "stinky, urine-soaked kid" to a man who found a Higher Power through the unbounding love of the rooms.
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