1962, a ship in the Panama Canal. Frank J. is sharpening a bayonet, terrified and desperate to look macho, so he squeezes a morphine syrette into his leg just to stop the shaking.
He spent his youth starching his skivvies to hide a liar’s heart and his adulthood trying to validate a hollow manhood with booze and violence. From beating a cab driver's face in with a rock in Okinawa to the wreckage of a police career ended by a bullet from a partner, Frank lived in a cycle of guilt and blackout. He describes his life as a "Mr.
T starter kit" of gold chains and Cadillacs that vanished into a cardboard box in a stolen car. After nearly blowing his own head off in a closet, he found that sobriety isn't just about the bottle—it's about a "problem living." He points to the Big Book, insisting that no matter the blood on one's hands, a Higher Power and the steps can keep a man sober.
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