The Young People’s Group That Supported Him in Montreal – Tom M.

I think I'll take this coat off. You know, mine, it's hot. Why I, excuse me, my name's Tommy and I'm an alcoholic. Why I took the coat off is that I want to show you this shirt. A few weeks ago, I was 76 years old. And my granddaughter, my oldest granddaughter, bought me this shirt for my birthday. And she said, Granddad, when you go out west, would you please show them the shirt that I bought you? You know, this is a beautiful program, isn't it? Man's first meeting with Alcoholics Anonymous and all the people that are here that have been sober for many, many years. And when we walk through these doors of AlcoholicsAnonymous, we have these people who came before us and helped us on our recovery, how can we ever repay Alcoholics Anonymous for what it's done for us at least for myself you know Mike told me that these people keep the anonymity close I'm going to tell you my full name it's Joseph Thomas Robert Aloysius McKettrick And I've been called other names, too. My father was born in Dublin, Ireland. Irish Catholic. My mother was a Scotch Presbyterian. So that's why, maybe that's why I'm an alcoholic, I don't know. I'm the oldest of three brothers and three sisters. Two sisters that are a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. One's 25 years, and the other's 15. I have a brother that stayed sober for 14 years, and apparently he started to drink. He's in the nursing home now, and I can pray for him. I had the opportunity to bring my father to Alcoholics Anonymous and he stayed sober for 17 years before he passed away. And you ask me if Alcoholics Anonymous works. I can't stand up here and tell you that all my problems were caused through alcoholism because I got myself into a lot of trouble without even taking a drink. Can't blame it on alcohol, all of it. But you see, when I walked through these doors of alcoholics and ominous, You straightened my life out. You made me into a human being that I'll never be able to repay. But I had to suffer pain to get here. And I suffered a lot because the bottle took over my life. but before I started drinking I want to tell you that I grew up in the Depression years my father was a sailor sailed the seas for many, many years and apparently he never seen me until I was two years old the first person that I detested in my life was my father he was an alcoholic he was a very abusive man and I can remember he used to strut my mother and I used to say to myself when I get older I'll fix that man I was a rebel when I was a boy I hung around with gangs we used to have rumbles all across the city of Montreal and I was the leader of the gang and I was the only English guy and all the rest were francophones. And we would go around to various districts and have rumbles. And I used to think that I was a tough guy and I could beat up anybody. And I constantly worried my mother something often. Worried and worried and worried about me. worried about me because of simple reasons. She had a large family and my father wasn't there. He was on sea all the time. And the only thing that I could remember about my father, he was constantly drunk when he was on land and he would go away and he'd come back and it would be another addition to the family. But the year 1939, he happened to be at home at this particular time and the day that war was declared he was 39 years old and he went up and joined the Royal Canadian Navy with this experience in the Merchant Marine he got in right away and I could remember him coming home and telling me that I was the oldest of the family well I want you to help your mother to look after your brothers and sisters and when he walked out of that house I was very happy to see him go and it was just a little while after that I got expelled from school for hitting the teacher where he wasn't supposed to be hit and all school in the city of Montreal would take me both Protestant and Catholic so I had to get to my mother and get permission to go to work in those days you had to have permission He signed the paper, and I went down and got this paper that I could go to work. And I went to work in a shoe factory called Tateville Shoe in Mason F., where I was brought up. I made 15 cents an hour. No income tax, by the way, in those days. and you know those days we had to bring our money home because my father even so he was only a naval seaman at that particular time and he didn't make much money I was supposed to bring the home and I remember getting paid on Friday and we used to get paid on cash in those days and just before I was going home there was a crap game on and I got into this crap game and I lost all my money and I went home and told my mother that somebody died at work that we had to buy a reef then every Friday somebody was dying at work and I had lost all of my money so I lied before I ever took up my first drink but a little while later I got in the aircraft division as a helper and I got 45 cents an hour and mind you that was quite a bit of money in those days started looking at girls loved dancing every Friday or Saturday night we used to go meet in the pool room and go up to the dance hall and I was very tall for my age I hung around with a fellow a little older than me he was always hanging around with people older than him and I could remember one Saturday before we went up to the dance this guy by the name of Johnny I went up with him and he went down to the corner of the street at the liquor store there and he said Tommy would you mind waiting outside I have to go into the liquor story to get some bottles and he went in and got some bottles and he said come on Tommy come on in the back lane I'll give you a drink well what the hell sure why not I don't know what I drank but the following morning I was laying on my mother's floor and I was violently sick and I don' t remember getting there and I guess anybody drank the way I drank the first time would have got it and I told my mother if this is what liquors want to do to me I ain't gonna drink no more but I got into these taverns a little later and I get at these tables and I sit down with these older men and they tell me their experience of life and I was infatuated with them and I didn't get as sick as I did the first time I thought that this was life and little did I know it that that was the beginning of my downfall you know 1942 I was 15 years old everybody was joining the army in the air force the navy and I went with this fellow that I had my first drink with up to St. James street to the recruitment office I was going to join the army and I walked in there and he was of age and they told him to go in the back and get your medical and he looked at me and he says how old are you young man I said I'm 18 where's your birth certificate well I was born in Ireland and all the baptismal papers were all burnt by church and there's no record of my birth well he said you go home and get a statement from your mother that you're 18 and come back and see us and when I walked out of there I didn't even know where the hell Iron was the only thing I knew about Iron was what my father was saying and I went home and I said Ma I want to join the Reserve Army I want to join The Black Watch two days a week she says yes I don't mind signing the paper until you're 18 I went up to St. James in 1942 they never question you too much I went in there sergeant go in the back get your examination chest, eyes, nose passed everything came out sitting on the bench waiting for a few other fellows and the army truck will come and pick you up. Well, they picked us up and they brought us over to Long Gale. I got in there and they gave me a uniform. Black tan. And they told me I could go home and report back to Longgale Barracks the next day. And I get out of there and I took across the Jacarchi Bridge and I went home. And I got off at the corner of St. Clement and St. Catherine and I walked up the street and my arms were swinging and my chest was sticking out and my brothers and sisters were all playing around in front of the house and they're saying to their friends, look at my oldest brother. He joined the army and my God, I was going to be the greatest Harold that Canada ever had. And then I walked into the house and I explained to my mother that I joined the active army. Well, she says, I'm going to get you out but Ma, I won't go overseas. I'll stay here in Canada. And she says, if you go overseas, I'm going to get you out. And I guess she thought that maybe the army would make a decent person out of me with the discipline and everything. And I reported back to Long Gale the next day and a couple of days after they sent me down to a place called the Huntington Quebec for my basic training. And this was about 40 miles outside of Montreal. I thought it was 100, you know. And we arrived there, and they gave us our heights, and there wasn't much to do. And they told us you can go into the town, you know, and take a look around. Went around with a bunch of guys and got down into thetown. There was a hotel there, still there today. Shadow Hotel. I got in there. You know, I'm a man now. I'm in the army, eh? And I sit down, and I have a beer, and I had two, andI had three, and I got a brawl and there was a fight and I got beat up the next thing the regimental police came down and they dragged us all back to the camp they threw me under a shower and threw me into one of the cells to sleep it off the next morning the sergeant major came around and he had a little talk with me and he says young man you better behave yourself if you do these things in the army you'll get punished I said, well, a 40-year-old man telling me what to do, you know. I didn't say that to him. I kept it. But he was right. He was right, though. After completing my basic training, I went out to a place called Dundurn, Saskatchewan. And I learned how to drive tanks and all the heavy equipment in the Army and you know what I tried the booze out there too and I got drunk I didn't drink every day you're only making a buck thirty a day but every opportunity I had, I drank you know I look back into my army I was a loner I always had to think that I had to drink to be making friends I completed my advanced training and then I was shipped down to a place called Windsor, Nova Scotia for a draft for overseas and it was the same thing down there I was drinking all the time that I had the opportunity to drink and I look back into my youth I had a problem there So when I walked through these doors of alcoholics and ominous at the age of 25, you told me and you helped me to get this recovered and this disease that I got, I could recover. But another 10 years, I went overseas. I was on a ship called the Ile-de-France. Not too many army personnel. It was a lot of New Zealanders, Australians, all from the Commonwealth that came over to Canada to learn how to fly. And there wasn't too many army personnel on it. I think we were about four or five days on the ocean. I got myself into a crown and anchor game on there, but I won 600 bucks. And that was a Lot of money. and then we arrived in Liverpool in the wee hours of the morning and there was a radon and I said, Jesus, this is for real. I want to come home. Fifteen years old. But you don't do these things, eh? They take me off the ship. They put me on a troop train and they ship me down to a place called Woking in Surrey, England. The Holy Unit. They took all the M's out of the draft, fellows that leave in kitchen duty, guard duty, etc., etc. They put me in the sergeant's mess as a waiter. I changed all this Canadian money into English pounds. They gave me a pass from duty to duty. And as long as I was there for the meals to serve the sergeants, I could leave the camp at any time. Then I found something else in England. I found pubs. Have you ever been in a pub? I was infatuated with them. But I did something different this time. I'm in a club called Nap Hill, just outside of Wolking. And I'm standing at the bar and I'm half sloshed. And I look down and I see this beautiful girl. and I take another one and she's gorgeous and then I take another one and I said hell with this I'm going to go on asking for a date I said would you like to have a date with me you know well she says sure why not I fell madly in love the only thing is that I was 16 and she was 42 if she's still alive she must be 108 I still know her name by the way she was a married woman and her husband was a brigadier he was a surgeon in the British Army however I was after the regimental sergeant major I said sir I didn't join this army to be a waiter I want to go to a regiment well he said we'll decide where you go not you eventually they sent me to a regimen the 17 Dupuy Orcs Royal Canadian Desires, 3rd Division Montreal outfit went over on D-Day I was over there for approximately 6 weeks and I was shipped back to England with a nervous fatigue they put me in a Canadian military hospital in a place called Ramshot England and in there in those days we used to have a blue suit white shirt red tie. And I was allowed to leave the hospital and I proceeded around to the local pubs around Bramshaw. And they knew I came back from the Cognate, and I used to get a lot of free drinks. And even if I came out of the hospital half sloshed, it was pretty late at night. But like all things in my life, I got a little too drunk one night, and then I said to hell with the hospital, and to hell with the Canadian Army and I went AWO. And I was gone for five months. I'm not going to bring you through those five months without telling you this. I fell in love a lot. I used to think I was the Don Juan. Anyways, I got sick and tired of what I was doing and I turned myself over to the British Provo Corps and they turned me over to the Canadian Provo Corp and I was shipped back to the hospital and from the hospital I went to the holding unit that I I was brought up in a court-martial for desertion. I stood up in front of the court-marshal and they charged me with desertion and I was sentenced to two years in a military detention overseas. I was 17 years old. I arrived in this detention place and they take my battle dress off of me and my equipment and they gave me denims with circles around it you're an SAS now you're a soldier under sentence you're not allowed to smoke you're go to the bathroom on the double if you want to talk to the officers you have to put your face to the wall and call them sir but I was a tough guy I didn't call them sir, I'd call them different names. But you don't do these things when you're an SAS or you're punished. If I behave myself, I do 16 months out of the two years. But I got caught for smoking, caught talking, insubordination, lost all of good time. Then eventually I was brought up in various charges, up in front of the commandant, 21 days PD-2. They throw me into the hole, six ounces of bread in the morning and six ounces at night. And they come around to my cell and they wake me up every half hour and I used to spit in their face. And I would get another 21 days bread and water. And while I was in there, VE Day was declared. There was about 800 men in there ranging from 28 days to five years various charges. Ten cell blocks, I was in number ten cell blocks. Two huts. The guys in the huts, we beat the war's over, we're going home. The next thing they get out of the huds and they get around the pride square and they start wrecking everything. And then they said, let's go and get the Ketrick. And they get into the punishment block and they get me out and they make me the leader. And I smashed everything with them. And I escaped over the wall. Four or five days later, I'm picked up in London in a pump by the Provo Corps and I was shipped back to the detention place and we couldn't stay there. They sent me down to an English gallop. The charge that was laid against me was attempted mutiny and then the king's rules and regulations attempted mutiny you can be shot for it that charge was dropped to incite a riot and I was sentenced to three years hard labor in Redding Gallow I completed a year of that and I sent back to Canada with a discharge with ignominy from his majesty's forces I wasn't allowed to be discharged in a Canadian uniform They escorted me down to the main street to pick up a second-hand suit. And they said, get the hell out of here. You've got to be a disgrace to the Army. The four years and six months that I was in the Army, I never wrote home once. And I walked across Shaq Karcheed Ridge and the first place that I headed to was a tavern. And I got into this tavern and I started to have a few beers And then after I had those few beers, I could face anybody. And then I went home. I threw my discharge papers on the kitchen table and I said, Ma, I got myself into a lot of trouble. And she said, Tommy, we knew it was in the papers and on the radio. And you were just a boy and you didn't realize what you were doing in your home and will forget all about it. I wish I could say that that was the end of it. but it was only the beginning of my downfall you see my father got discharged as a lieutenant commander in the Royal Canadian Navy and he had a very good war record and they invited my brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles from the prodigal son back from the wars and the father and the blues was flying and I flew with it and you remember what I told you at the beginning of my talk When I get older, I'll fix that man. And I did. And I ever regretted it from the day I did it. And I got thrown out of the house. And I went up to live with my grandfather. You know, my grandfather was a very religious man. And he put me to bed on many occasions because the city of Montreal was wide open. and the barbed wire joints, the red light district, and I got involved in all that. But every Sunday my grandfather made sure I went to Mass. And I went for Mass for the respect of my grandfather, not for me. But one Sunday I'm sitting in my grandfather's living room and I had a hell of a hangover and I was depressed and he came walking in and he said, Tommy, why don't you go over and go into that dance hall across the street and, you know, meet people. I said, I ain't got no money, Grant. He gave me five bucks or whatever. And I walked over to this just across the straight from my grandfather's. It was a dance hall called the Palidore. And I walk in there and there's a hall like this and dancing. there was a beautiful black haired girl standing in the corner and I went over to her and I asked her for an ass and she accepted and I asked her if I could walk her home she said sure will you come to the movies with me next night, Edith she did that was It was in April of 46, December of 46 the 21st we were married. Now I lied to her. I told her all a bunch of excuse depression bullshit. I didn't want to lose her. I thought I impressed her. I told her my father owned all kinds of property. She couldn't even pay the $13 a month rent. But we were married on the 21st of December, 1946. And I brought myself through hell, but I brought that fine woman that I married through hell. And she's sitting right here. And it's 56 years ago. How can I ever repay Alcoholics Anonymous? You took me in and you made a human being out of me. But I didn't think it at the time. Because I wanted to be with the boys. I want to show you guys that I can be a tough guy. And I've roamed this country from one end to another. And I'm not going to give you the blow-by-blows description what happened. My wife presented me with five beautiful kids. And I was a drunk. That bottle was my God. And I would come home and say, Eden, take me in. I won't drink no more. And I would go in and she would take me in and I would be okay for a month, but I got into the bottle again. Then the children came. She 21 times she left me in six years. You're beautiful, Edith. I love you very much Shire was born the more responsibilities I had the more I drank and Timothy and Brian I was working in Canada I'm going to take you up to my last drink I get so god damn emotional with this and I can't seem to get over it. March the 17th, 1952. St. Patrick's Day. I was working in Canadian Vickers. My wife had me up for non-support. I even wanted to turn myself in and the cop says, there's no record of you today. And the next day, The cops were at Canadian Brickers to arrest me. But I wanted to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. I mean, I celebrated Yon Kipper, St. Andrew's Day, every day. And I made up holidays for it. I went across the street with this check that I got because I quit my job. You know, I've got to drink and stuff. I have to stay, you know. I quit me job, and I went cross the street. In between the dry dock and the welcome, there's a little clothing store. And a lady by the name of Mrs. Bremmer ran this clothing store, and I walked in there. I said, Mrs. Brammer, would you mind cashing this check? I've gotta bring it home. Edith wants to feed the kids. But don't forget, Tommy, you're in the home. Yes, Mrs. Brammer, I will. I went into the dry dock and had a cup of air. Over to the Welcome Hat, some more there. Up to the BV, some More There. Over to Starland, the Rainbow Bar, the Club de Lesse. Next thing, I'm uptown. And what happened, I have to tell you, because some of it I remember, some of that I don't. But I got a little scared, I had a little bit of money left on me and I said I better go home with the money I got. And I got out of the drummer's cafe and there was a taxi in front. I get into the taxi and no driver in front so I get out of back and into the front door. And I am over at this vehicle down afar with Mottman Dorchester and apparently I wrap it around a pole. I wake up in number one police station, and two detectives, they got me. How many cars did you steal? Well, I said, I didn't know what I was doing. You sure you didn't steal any? No, no, just let me go to the tap. I would drink water. I'm sick. Eventually, they let me going to the top, and I drank some water and let it go. I'm brought up in Judge Rainey Lagarde for stealing a taxi, a car. I have no lawyer to defend me there. And I said to the judge, Sir, please let me go home. I won't drink no more. And the tears are coming down and I'm not the tough guy no more and he looked at me and he says, Oh, we're not going to send you home but I'm going to do one thing. I'm gonna allow you one telephone call. I want you to phone your wife I want to see her in my chambers the following week I'm going to put you in a Bordeaux jail until then well we didn't have any phone at home so I phoned one of my sisters I said fellas I'm in a hell of a jam I'm charged with stealing a car the judge would you mind going over and needed to come up to the judge's offices at Shantamarse. He wants us here. Tommy, you just get out of our lives and we'll look after your family. And I came back down from Bordeaux the next week. Walking up, the judge says, two years in St. Vincent de Paul Penitentiary. The third week after I arrived there, my wife presented me with a baby girl. like a baby girl sitting right there. I belong there. I didn't realize it at the time, but I belong here. At least my wife was getting fed and she hadn't worried about me. How dare not coming down there and tell him the judge. Anger, resentments, it all piled up. The miracles of Alcoholics Anonymous happened to me in there. I was interviewed by the John Howard Society in there and the guard picked me up in my cell and brought me down to this man's office. And this man said, sit down, I want to talk to you in a nice way. He looked at me and my record and it seems to me that you get yourself into a lot of trouble, young man. Drinking? Well, I don't know. People get in trouble drinking. You said, would you like to go the way, eh? Well, I said, what the hell's that? Well, he says, you know, it's a program that helps people like you. Me, 25 years old, an alcoholic? Come on. Walked out of that man's office, brought me back to my cell. Got in there and I got down with my hands and knees and I asked my God for help. And I'm not a religious man. But I started to think, I got five kids. I got a nice wife. I got everything that a man wants. And I can't stop drinking. So I went up to the warden about a week after. I had a permission to see him. And I walked into the wardens office. And I said, I'd like to have permission to see my wife. Sir, can I go away? Well, he said, you know, and I don't know whether the John Howard and the warden were in cahoots. You know, I never trusted nobody. Well, He said, You had the opportunity of going there before. What made you change your mind? Sir, I'm sick and tired of this life that I'm leading. Please help me. he says I'll think about it I'll give you permission to see your wife and Edith came up and seen me God Edith you're a beautiful person I said don't ever come back here again and she wrote to me every day told me about the kids and the next thing I know on a Sunday morning one of the guards picked me up at my cell and brought me to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous it was a Sunday morning in St. Vincent de Paul penitentiary it was called the old excelsior group and i walked him there and i sat down with a bunch of cons there 15 or 20. the sponsor of the group didn't show up it's supposed to start at 10 o'clock and the sponsor didn't get there till about a quarter to 11 and i could remember that day and this man came in a fellow by the name of claude mcsee he was a maritimer and he came walking up in front of us and the first thing that he said I'm sorry fellows I couldn't get here on time because the buses were late and my impressions with alcoholics here's a man leaving the family and come up to see a bunch of characters like me I think I'll stick around and these people from the outside each Sunday morning they came to me and gave me a message Did you hope? Did you ask me if I ever can repay Alcoholics Anonymous for what it's done for me and my family? No. The strength that I got from these people before me is unbelievable. I was called into the warden's office about a year later. They gave me a ticket of leave. It's something like a parole, and on that ticket of leave in big red letters, abstain from alcohol and provide for your family. And Warden LaBelle said to me, and don't you ever come back here. And I looked at him and I said to myself, I hope I never do. And when I got out there, those two big doors slammed on me, and I turned around and I says, God, I never hope I come back. here. You see, these people started to turn me into a human being. And I went home to my wife and five kids. And they were living in two rooms. Five kids and a woman in one room and the other one for a kitchen. That's where I put them. That is where I as a father put my children and I walked into this community hall and this little boy came running up to me and he says you're my daddy because my mommy tells you you're awful tall little Timothy I didn't even take off my coat I said Edith I'm going down to central office I was scared and I went down I took the streetcar to central office of Alcoholics Anonymous and I walked in there and it was a lady by the name of Barbara who was there I don't know what she thought of me you know, I had a suit about two times too big for me and a bloody terrible haircut I guess she knew I'd come from a can but she said something to me that hit me are you an alcoholic? and I said yes she said so am I Jesus, she's a beautiful looking woman, nice hat. I was aghast. I couldn't believe it. Yeah, sit down, man. Sit down, you know. And I was shy, you Know. That's the first woman I ever met. I didn't even know women within AA. There wasn't too many in those days. And a man came walking in, probably the name of Gorey W. Took a light and took him right off the bat. He sat down beside me, and I told him a little bit about myself. You know, I didn't shock him. Well, he said, how would you like to come to a meeting with me tonight? Well, I just got out of jail. I better be with my family, you know. Well, they said, you phone your wife and tell her you're coming home with me and we're going to a meet. I said, no, I'm not going to. I said you phone her. She won't believe it. Gordy phoned Edith Gordie told me after Tommy can go anywhere as long as he don't drink and I went home with this man I had supper with him this white boy and I went to my first meeting on the outside called Blue Monday and I walked in there and you know what I've been welcoming to alcoholics and all of this ever since and they told me the simplest thing for me at least don't drink go to meetings and things will get better and I went to meetings and meetings and I was coming home sober that's the miracle of alcoholics and all If I ever, ever done anything wrong in my life in AA, I regret it. And I don't think I ever did. Because I love you people. Love you all. You understood me. I met a guy. He was secretary treasurer of a large construction company. And he was in AA. And I had no job. and I went up and asked him, have you got a job? sure I'll give you a job I'm going to get a good job here secretary treasurer so he says I'll go down the corner of Mountain and Dorchester and talk to this foreman there so I went down the next morning and I talked to the foreman and I said so and so sent me down here you're going to give me a job oh yeah I will give you an job pick and shovel what? pick and shovel down there and dig gosh I thought I was going to be at least a foreman but the years rolled along the family got larger our family got better and I got better I was one of the youngest persons in alcoholic synonyms in the city of Montreal not the youngest but one of the youngest. We had a young people's food. He just supported me 100%. You know, I never had a desire to take another drink. Amazing what AA can do for us, isn't it? You have to make amends in alcoholic synonymous. and one of the amends that I had to make was to my father and that was hard I was over five years, my mother was separated from my father she was living up in Toronto with my brother and I didn't want to go I had the guts to go and see him by myself so I called one of my sisters, Barbara I said I want to come up and see daddy at St. Andrew's military hospital He was in there for chronic alcoholism. She came up to my house, and we went up to see my father. And I went into the room, and I didn't know what the hell to say to him. The only thing I could say, hey, Dad, I'm four or five years on him in AA. Well, he said, I am happy for you. And that is all I could saying. My sister talked to him when I went out. just a month or so after he was allowed out there and he could stay with one of my sisters providing he didn't drink and you know this night it was a Tuesday night and I was going to the old Mason F group and before I went there my father phoned me and he said Tommy, I'd like to go to one of these meetings with you and as soon as he said that I grabbed the bus and I went down to my sister's And I brought them to his first AA meeting. And he stayed sober, as I said at the beginning, for 17 years. And I'm going to tell you a little more about that. My oldest boy was getting baptized and my mother was living in Toronto. So she came down for the baptismal. And my father was there, you know, and I said, Ma, Daddy's at Barbara's, you knows. I don't want to see him. I don' t want to se him. I had enough with him for over a year or so. So I said well, you got to go and say hello to him, eh Ma? Right. Okay, but that's all. I'm only saying hello when I'm coming back and staying at your house. Okay, Ma. Well, I brought her down, you now. they were you know sparks but then they went into the living room and they were there for half an hour and I came in and I said Ma I've got to go home I think I'll stick around for another day or so here well okay Ma go ahead call me tomorrow yes Ma well I think I'll stay around for a little while longer you know and okay, mom, it's okay. Next thing I know, they got back together. You ask me if alcoholics and alms works. He passed away in 1974 on Father's Day. He was in Sunnybrook Veterans Hospital. He had emphysema. He was from the war. and I was in Vegas with my wife and we stopped off in Toronto before I went home and mommy said to daddy's in Sunnybrook Veterans Hospital so we went down it looked alright sitting up in bed joking with me he never drove a car he said Tommy I'm going to go down to Montreal I'm gonna get a car I'm not gonna rent one I'll see you okay dad that's fine I went home about five hours after. I got a call from one of my sisters that my father passed away. I'm sorry, but anyways, I went down. You know, we became brothers in Alcoholics Anonymous. not only father and son and you know my mother kept on saying Tommy I had the most beautiful of 17 years with your father he was a good guy boy he was a beautiful guy I put his medallion in his pocket and pop wherever you are I love you If you ask me about Alcoholics Anonymous, it works. Isn't it a beautiful program? I've met youth people here and I love you all. I love the way this program works. It made me what I am today and I'm not the man I would like to be but I'm a better man than I used to be. Thank you.