Malachy McC. from Tupelo Mississippi at Bainbridge, GA April 5th 1998

Morning. Thank you

from

good morning everyone. My name is Matt Kim and I'm colonic. I live in Tupelo, Ms. I think maybe it's because God has a sense of humor or maybe it's the story unfold. You may figure something else out in this. It's a privilege to be with you. It's a gift,

it's a blessing in my life to be given the opportunity to do anything in Alcoholics Anonymous today. Because for years before I came to you, and even for years after I came to you, I still believed that I was different. And I like to think today, and I remind myself that alcoholism, for me at least, is the disease of being different. And it's deadly for me.

When Annette said that I wasn't, well, that could mean many things.

Yeah,

it's probably because of a real interesting dose of the pink eye that I've been trying to shake for about 8 days and

oh, all that good stuff.

Dublin, Ireland is my hometown,

born and reared. I notice people say we were raised. You raise capital,

people are reared. And the second of four, I came to the United States because I'm often asked that in 1971 came to the city of New Orleans, and I frequently asked how come you've never lost your accent? And I say very simply, I saw no reason to

cause alcoholism in our home growing up.

For years I used that as an excuse,

gave me a lot of mileage. Blame others. Today I'm able to say to you because of the gift of these principles and Alcoholics Anonymous, that my mother and father gave me a very special gift, which is the gift of life.

And I was part of their life and the way that they chose. And also, a lot of it had to do with me

because I frequently hear at meetings that some of us believe that we don't fit, we don't connect, we don't seem to be a part of. And that was me.

I always seemed like I wanted to be somebody else and could be like you. I'd be OK And that was me.

I do know,

looking back, that part of my life was definitely that I learned as an early age, and that was about me, not about anybody else. But I learned not to feel and not to trust. And it was like I would not allow anybody in because I thought if I let you in, you might hurt me. And I always kept you distanced. And it just seemed I just, that was me, my thing. I was not able to connect with other people.

I just wasn't.

The times I felt safe were interesting and were connected with alcohol. Isn't that strange?

When we were little kids growing up, when we had diarrhea or the runs or the tracts as we used to call them in those days,

my model solution for the tracks was to give us a glass of hot milk with some grated nutmeg and a shot of Irish whiskey or Brandy in it. And what that was supposed to do was to bind up our stomachs, you see. And what I remember was that warm feeling coursing through me and I, I felt safe and I felt wonderful and I felt happy and, and I tried to have the traps as often as I could.

And I know it says in our text that

we alcoholic strength for the effect.

And I know I listened very carefully to Tom last night. And you're grateful to Tom not to put him on the spot, but I need heroes and Alcoholics Anonymous. And it's not about longevity, but to me, it's about God working in people.

And I need these heroes. And I have many heroes and Alcoholics Anonymous. You see, I can look at you in a different way today. Before, years ago, I wanted to be like somebody else because to run away from me. But today, you see, I can sit and I can stand with you, and I can look up to you for one reason, because

my God is good,

and my God is in and with you. And so my God is with me. And one of the gifts that Alcoholics Anonymous has given me today is before I came to you, I'd studied a lot about my God in those scriptures and theology and all that other stuff I used to be involved with, and I knew a lot about my God. But when I came to you, I met him,

and that's for me today. That makes the difference that when I'm with you, I feel safe

because I feel like I am in the presence of my God that does that presence.

It wasn't always that way

as also an Ultra server because I was raised to the Roman Catholic tradition like many young Irish men and women are.

And after those masses and services windows, some wine leftover in the crew. It's I thought it couldn't go to waste. And So what I would do is I'd grab it and take a little flog when nobody was looking, I thought. And again I remembered the feeling. That's what I was looking for. And listening to Tom last night, he talked about his journey and how he became alcoholic.

And, and I can respect that. And I don't know of me. I know what I am today by God's grace with you and, and from you. But I do believe that even back in those days, if I'm describing that the alcoholic is a person who drinks for the effect, I think I was alcoholic in my behavior in those days because I would look for booze because of what it did for me. It changed how I felt. It made me feel a part of and it made me feel warm and it made me feel safe. So here I have the trucks on one side of me

and ahead serving at the altar on the other side of me. I couldn't lose, you know,

and I don't remember too much more about things growing up, you know, I'm almost envious of those who do, you know, But to me, my, my childhood and my soul as adolescence and much later on, it seems sometimes I describe it as like still frames in the movie of life. It's just I remember glimmers. It's just like little flashes, moments that that's all I remember.

After I finished high school,

I went off to college and I went off to the major seminary and I became a Roman Catholic priest in 1971. That's why I ended up in the city of New Orleans.

I do remember before I left Ireland that my mother exacted a promise from me and that promise was son promised me that you will never drink and bring shame on this family.

Mothers can be powerful,

especially with her sons, I think. Or maybe it's because we left them. I don't know. But I remember that promise. And I got to the city of New Orleans, and the first assignment I had in this church community was on the edge of the French Quarter in the 9th Ward. It was heaven,

hell for the first three months because each channel went out with my new found friends in that community and to go to the local watering holes in the 9th Ward and they're having their JD and Coke and, you know, Roman 7 and Jack's Beer in those days

and Dixie and Falstaff, you know, all I was doing was having Coke. And in this next audience, I might need to clarify that that's the the liquid with the bubbles in it. That's in the can.

And all it did for me was made me bark a lot, you know, And I was looking at them and they seem to be kind of what we call today, happy, joyous and free. And I was missing the fun feeling of being a part of because I felt apart from them while I was just with them. And

I don't remember exactly when it was, but when I had my first glasses Scotch, maybe after about 3 months of being in New Orleans when I had my first class of Scotch, I found all my answers.

And I think we can understand that those of us have been there.

And I became someone who took off with it. Within six months I was a noon drinker, and within a year I was a morning drinker. Just

within another year,

it seems my behavior was coming to the attention of the powers that be for those men in the tall pointy hats.

And they called me in to give an accounting of myself.

And here, as I said, he born in Dublin and here in the city of New Orleans. And

no one mentioned alcoholism when they talked to me,

but they told me that I was ending up in places that normally I might not expect to be

and that are spending time with people that normally one might not associate with in my profession, at least publicly,

not the kind of people maybe we share moments with in church on Sunday mornings. And I'm telling you in a very general way because that's what it says in our text, that we say in a general way what it used to be like and what happened. And if you've got a vivid imagination, that's your problem. You know, I will just keep it very general, you know, probably to protect the guilty. And they told me they were moving me,

which is the solution to the problem. In those days you move the problem, you know,

and I know today that if they could have found a place in Louisiana farther South or West for me from New Orleans, they'd have found it. But the place they found was a place called La Rose, Louisiana, and I lived there for the next 8 years. And what happened to me as those people loved me,

they loved the unlovable. I went there with a horrible attitude and the attitude, whilst I was going to make life so miserable for those people. Don't you love it? Yeah,

Here's, you know, a member of the Courage or whatever, you know, supposed to be a quote, UN quote inspiration. And I have this attitude I'm going to make life miserable for those with me. And the idea was that I would get back to New Orleans, where I belonged because in a small rural community, it's very difficult to be anonymous. I think you can understand that. And I found out that what they didn't know about me, they seem to make up, you know,

but it seemed I was gaining a lot of attention

because what I was doing at this stage, you know, within two years was, as I best recollected, drinking about 1/5 a day.

I was one of those drinking to live and living to drink. And days were becoming nights and mornings were becoming evenings and everything just seemed jumbled. And I don't remember too much of anything.

It's still a little scary to me today, my friends, that some people thank you. Some people come up to me today even and back in in Louisiana and say to me, you know, you married our daughter and was the happiest day of our life. And it was wonderful. And I don't remember them. I don't remember their daughter. I don't remember the day,

celebrated hundreds of weddings and christenings and funerals and don't even remember being there. I was a blackout drinker.

Just constant, constant, constant.

And then when I became aware that somebody might become aware of my behavior and of course at this stage I was loathing myself. You know, that self loathing that we have that feeling. I know today I identify it. We don't like the feelings of powerlessness as Alcoholics. And that powerlessness and all those promises I would make, I'll never do it again. All the stuff I poured down the commode and I'll never do it again. And 1/2 an hour later be out the door looking for more. That was me all the time, all the time. And I literally hated myself. But I.

My greatest fear was that if I told you who I really was, you might not like me.

For her to act. That was a wonderful actor on the outside

and inside I was dying.

I was there from 1973. And the story continued,

of which much I don't remember. I was told much afterwards,

of which I don't remember. I do remember, though, and I was told afterwards the date October 11, 1979, came around and my boss, then Bishop Boudreau, was his name used Cajun, very gentle person. He's since gone home to God and I'm grateful to him. He was one of the few that hung in there with me because I think he enabled me to for a long time. But that was his decision, I suppose. We do what we do the way we do it.

But I remember getting a phone call from him and hearing his kind voice saying, Maliki, I'd like to talk to you like a brother,

come visit with me. That's all he said,

and we'll drove over to his home that afternoon. He lived in Bayou Blue or Blue Bayou for those of you who like Crystal Gayle. Bayou Blue when walked in the door of his home to visit with him.

There were eleven other people there

and something told me that all was not well.

It just didn't seem like a little social visit we were going to have.

And I notice they're all standing around the wall of his living room. None of them would come near me. And they told me afterwards it was because they were scared of me, because I was a vicious drunk. That's how I was. Not violent, but vicious. What I would do when I was listening to Cathy at breakfast this morning, what I would do is I would find your weak spot and I'd go for you and shred you before you even got near me. That's how I defended myself.

So they stayed far away from me.

The good old Bishop said to me, would you like something to drink? And

something told me it would not have been good timing to suggested what I really wanted. So I settled for some coffee

and he fixed the farming. Is Sash let me look me in my eye and said, Maliki, I love you. You drink too much.

And I said I do. For the first time, I admitted to another human being that I drank too much. No one mentioned alcoholism. I certainly didn't.

And he said to me, will you accept help? And that word help, I didn't know what it meant, but it sounded good to me. And I know sometimes some of us have been there with these fleeting moments of clarity in the midst of the madness, as I call it, and

and help. And I said, here is this man caring about me. And I couldn't stand myself, but here he is caring for me. And he said, will you accept help? And I said I will. And he said, good, here's your airline. Take it

we Alcoholics have amazing powers of recuperation. We do, especially when we're threatened or feel threatened.

And I thought this was moving a little bit too fast. I mean, I told him I would accept help, but he said here's your airline ticket. And I had no knowledge of what that meant. And of course, you know, my problem is, you know, that I'm selfish and self-centered and I have to be in control at all times. And nobody can take that from me or I feel out of control and I don't like it. So here's this man saying to me I'm going somewhere

that I hadn't decided on.

They're going to send me up to a place in Rochester, MN,

and I started arguing with them.

You know, us Alcoholics are just a little bit belligerent.

Almost rides me still at area assembly these days. I describe this as a bunch of benign anarchists

way. I think it's part of our illness that we're just argumentative

or maybe, you know, we're just legends in our own mind or are in love with the sound of our own voice or combinations of all three. I don't know. But I started arguing with them and, and, and told him that I it was a Thursday, as I vaguely recollect. And then I checked it afterwards a while. And I told him I this couple to marry on Saturday. And I told him after I married that couple, then I'll go off to this place you're talking about. And he said I think they love you more if you go now. You know,

I think we comepromised and

settled on the following day was an open ticket. And that evening I went back home and I had some alcohol in my drawer and I thought that couldn't go to waste. And then I called some of my friends and I told them I was going off for a few days and they said welcome on up, we'll have a drink, you know, and went up to Bayou, as we'd say up to Bayou. And I visited with them later on that night and I vaguely remember in and out of the blackout because that's how I was. I would just float in and out and have these little still frames,

you know, to remember, and then they'll gone again. And I do remember, though, we were thinking glasses and they were toasting my success and treatment.

You know,

I heard Tom last night. And thank you again, Tom, for that, you know, talking about the delusion. The delusion, how deluded I was,

He often separated the truth from the false that had hit me.

You know, I would lie because that was my familiar friend. I didn't trust anybody. I sure wasn't going to tell you anything about me. But they were toasting my success and treatment. And vaguely I remember getting to the airport later on that day and I flew to Chicago and had four double s and between Chicago and Rochester didn't order any, just to prove I didn't need it. And you know us with the dance, you know I'm not that bad and I can control this. And

I didn't realize it at the time. My friends thought I was 260 lbs and dying on my feet.

I didn't know that.

I didn't.

And I got to that place and it was cold.

I remember

1st 10 days. I don't remember too much of anything, but I had this man assigned to me. His name was John from Los Angeles, and he's still sober. By God's grace,

he was assigned to me like a Big Brother. And he told me afterwards I was one of the most obnoxious, arrogant sons of guns that it had ever been as privileged to meet. And I thanked him. You know, I was, like, felt right at home with that. You know, someone could finally acknowledge me.

And he told me I argued with him about length of stay there. That seemed to be important to me. And he told me I'd be there for quite a while. And I told him I'd only be there a few days. And he said, oh, no, you know, there's a long program. And he told me, I told him that he was much older than I was, so he needed a lot more help than I did.

And that was my attitude there. And I stayed there three months.

I was the youngest person there. The person nearest in age to me was 26 years older than I was. Of course, I was very different.

I remember going to meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous downtown Rochester, being shipped in the van from that place to the meeting, thought we were being shipped like cattle. There's others in the van. I would not speak to them. They were very troubled.

The townhouse place for the Met in Rochester was in fact was a gift to me. I was up in the Hiawatha land last year in Halston. I had the opportunity to touch base with some good people who for somehow, some strange reason remember this very sick alcoholic back from those days and I need to hear what they had to say to me.

Sometimes I jump around to my journey, but I just. I suppose we speak the way God moves us to speak. But I do know that

I'm wandering away, my friend.

I can stand and look in a mirror and pause

and start thinking and start swooning all in five seconds.

I am an alcoholic. It's not that I was more of an alcoholic when I used to drink. This is a progressive illness and Tom and others so well said it last night. And it keeps saying in my own Home group that we have a daily reprieve contingent upon the maintenance of our spiritual condition and we've absolutely no mental defense against taking that first drink. Our help must come. I love the words must come from a higher power.

Must

those meetings. I wouldn't let you touch me. I wouldn't let you near me. I wouldn't hug you. I wouldn't shake your hand

and I know today was fear

in South Loathing. I could sense the love that you have for each other, but I was afraid of that.

Afraid of it?

Oh, I tell you, that loneliness

of the alcoholic.

But within 10 days, I was getting well there. I want you to understand, you know, again, these amazing powers of recuperation. There's this old gentleman there at the meeting. And I was found someone to focus on at a meeting because it was like I could pour out my venom inside on them, not verbally, but I could just focus eyeball them, you know, almost like I eyeballed someone yesterday when they suggested that Ireland was still part of the British Isles. You know

that kind of eyeball, you know,

will mention who.

Yeah, but the colonial era has passed.

Anyway,

this guy chairing the meeting, old, wrinkled, baggy eyed, and when he talked to go,

and he was definitely one of those. And he introduced himself as the chairperson of the meeting and he said his name was Art. And within 10 seconds, I'd canonized him as Art the Fart.

And that was my attitude at meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. And only tell you that to tell you how teachable I was.

You know,

I look back on it. He was sober and I was miserable.

Yeah.

Now, for three months of being there, I found out that you had to do a fourth and a fifth step with 1234 and five in order to be released from the loving embrace of that establishment where I was.

And so I took the first step and took the second step and took the third step. But the only problem was it was kind of just real lip service. First step for me was I was willing to acknowledge I drank too much and when I drank too much, I got into trouble. But I was in powerless. Thank you. My life had not become unmanageable because I would listen to you people at meetings and adhere your war stories and how you've been to jail, you know,

and listening to Tom last night there but for the grace of God myself many times

because that was the blackout drinker and I drove.

It was only God's grace time for me.

We're no different.

But you talk about being in jail and losing homes and families and jobs and children, and none of that stuff had happened to me.

And of course, I continue to believe I was different. And I'd go to meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous just to continue to have you reinforce that I was different.

The deadly disease, this deadly, It's a disease of perception, of attitude, of behavior, of thinking. It's not about booze anymore for me. It's but a symptom of the problem. As it says in the text,

alcohol is but a symptom of the problem. Selfishness, self centeredness, self will run riot. Goodness. And that was me. Of course, I couldn't see that at the time. When I left there in January of 1980 and returned to La Rose, Louisiana, those people continued to love me,

continue to love me.

I went to meetings with Alcoholics Anonymous because it became part of the job description.

I didn't go because I wanted to go, but I went to meetings

first year and a half. I didn't use the sponsor because, after all, he was one of those. Yeah. And I got tired of you asked me did I have a sponsor. So I relented and asked this person, Leonard Kay was his name, to be my sponsor. And I looked down my nose at him because, after all, I'd been in treatment, you know? And he shook himself in the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous. So we were different, you see, And I felt comfortable with that difference. So whatever you would say to me, I could analyze and dismiss, you see, because it was on the basis of his ignorance.

Oh, scary.

And I stayed like that for the next four years. And I go to meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous, and when you read how it worked, I believe that God had called me to tell you for the rest of the meeting how it really worked.

And my sponsor since who's a member of that original group that has joined, quote, UN quote, when I came back to South Louisiana in 1980, Joe R or Cajun Joe from Golden Meadow, he's my sponsor to this day. Joe would tell me that he said Maliki. Many of us grew in love and tolerance in those days

because, he said. I believe that God gives at least one like you to each group so that we can grow

that. Doesn't it all sound familiar? Okay,

And after four years of going to meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous has stopped going to meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous because I believed, I wanted to believe at the time that I'd carried the message long enough to you and now it was up to you to do something with this.

The reality was that I continued to load myself and there was number freedom and there was no happiness and there was no nothing. And how often following or working the principles.

It was a game. And I got tired of the game and I stopped going and became worse. Didn't drink.

Late summer of 1984 I was over in Ireland visiting with my sister and in Dublin.

And

for those of you who believe that such a thing is non alcoholic beer, can I disagree with you?

See, less than 1% means more than 0%.

I have a disease of thinking

she had a six pack of Ools in her refrigerator

and I visited with the O'doul's and all they did was make me go to the bathroom. I know I was looking for the effect. Didn't do anything for me except, you know, activate the plumbing and that's about all it did.

Couple of weeks later, sitting on the plane and London, getting ready to come back and to Atlanta and then on down to New Orleans and the stewardess came up to me and said, well, you have something to drink. And I said I'll have a double Beefeater and tonic without batting an eyelid.

I know the few of those and

thought went off in my mind. You people put me through hell.

It was always you people. You told me that if I took the first drink I would get drunk. And here I am after three or four double S and I'm feeling perfectly in control.

And then I must have had another few and another light went off in my brain, which is you're not an alcoholic at all.

When I came back to where I was living and pastoring at the time and

few weeks later I just, I didn't pick up the drinking again. It was all part of me at the time, but I found myself out in the Broadwater Beach Motel in Biloxi,

Mississippi. And

soft lights and pretty waitresses and linen tablecloths and candles and

what do you have to drink? I'm feeling perfectly in control. Ordered myself a double

had a few double s

know the light went off in my brain instead of paying hotel prices for mixed drinks much cheaper by a fist and make sure I

And then the real horror began.

It's my friend Alka Haltar, and

it didn't work for me anymore. I couldn't get drunk and I couldn't stay sober. And I've heard that said

I could take one drink and go into a blackout. I could drink a fifth and city or eyeballing you.

It became totally unpredictable before I used two years ago be able to predict that I could just go into a state of oblivion. I could predict that or stay in the state of oblivion. Now stop working. And that was absolutely horrible. The few remaining friends I had started drifting away, except one, whom I mentioned by name. He's not one of us, but he's probably an incredible gift in my life. His name is Patrick

O'Brien from the old country.

He hung in there with me to the extent that for a few years prior to that he would read daily the book of Alcoholics Anonymous

and you would go to meetings of Alan Answers just so he could cope with his own feelings. That was a gift to him and to me. He wanted to understand, quote, UN quote, this illness so that he could be there for me and with me and for himself.

He came to me early November of 1985 and he said, Maliki, you're killing yourself

course in that year where I'd stopped and started and stopped and started that year of late summer 84 to November of 85 after 5 stuff and stopping for two days and going on binges and disappearing. And Oh yes, I'm going back to that place in Rochester frequently. My boss sending me to a psychiatrist for 10 months once a week. And he was a wonderful gift in my life. And I'm glad they acknowledged that in our text

that we're supposed to make use of what those good people have to offer. He would ask me, are you going to your meetings with Alcoholics Anonymous, this psychiatrist,

are you drinking? Cos I'd lie with a straight phase because as soon as I'd finished the session with them and, you know, I'd BS and just continue to persuade myself, I was in awe of myself and how wonderful I was. I'd go off to the Bulls corner in New Orleans and have a liquid lunch, you know, to celebrate surviving the psychiatrist one more time, you know,

sick. He was a wonderful human being and all of that stuff. And people trying to love me and help me and then gradually pulling away and realizing, you know, he's got to do whatever he's got to do.

And then early November came around and

Pat came to visit with me, he said. Maliki, you killing yourself, you gotta do something.

And I knew it. I think I had a death wish at the time. Everybody had pulled away my sister

that summer of 1985 when it went back over to visit first day it was in our home. She comes in with her husband. She looks at me and she says, Malachy,

you're not welcome in our home anymore.

We're going out for Ohio and when we come back, we want you to be gone.

She was the last one that was propping me up

and of course I gave her the half piece sign. You know it's piece sign. I gave her the half piece sign. Who needed her anyway?

Oh, this is not a nice syllabus.

You roar like a tornado through the lives of others.

And then on November of 85,

with some prompting from how I call my boss, and I told him I'm leaving. I don't know where I'm going. I don't even know if I want to live. And I remember him saying to me, old Bishop Boudreau, do what you need to do. He was tired too.

We said. Before you go, he said. Why don't you call this man that you mentioned to me?

This man's name is Hillary Dee

Father Hillary is. He's known to some.

I'd met him as a gathering something like this back in 1983 when I was still dry.

See, I've come to large gatherings of Alcoholics Anonymous 'cause I could lose myself in them, you know, didn't have to be involved with anybody, just kind of float in, float out, you know, show up kind of thing. He was the speaker, and whatever he said touched me. I don't know to this day what he said, but whatever he said must have just cracked up my loneliness and emptiness. And I went up to him after the meeting, like many did, And I found words coming out of my mouth that I had no intention of saying to him. And I said to him very simply, Hillary, one of these days I'd like to come visit

with you in Cullman, AL.

He reached in as well as he took out his card. He put it in my hand and he said when you are ready, come. That was all. When you are ready, come. And he went on to the next person.

I must have told my boss about Hillary because Hillary sometimes known as the drunk monk. And I was fascinated with the Benedictine Abbott being in recovery. And he said he's a big man in this church. And and those of you who know Hillary know that, you know, if you put him sideways, you would not mark them absent. You know, he is somewhat substantial in presence and

I know it's just I can't see it's strange anymore. All I can tell you, my friends, is the God works.

You know, there are no coincidences. There are just moments when God chooses to be anonymous. And I mentioned, you know, meeting Hillary to my boss, obviously. And he says, well before you leave, why don't you call that man that you mentioned to me in common Alabama. And I retrieved his phone number and thank God when I called him, he answered the phone. And you have to remember I met the man briefly once, two years before

a very passing moment,

and I had not seen him since. And when he answered the phone and said to him, Hilary, this is Maliki. And was a pause. And across the silence of two years, all I heard him say to me was, Are you ready?

So the course, I'm ready,

he said. Good come. And he hung up.

Of you have ever met Hillary or no Hillary? No, he seldom invites. Most thing come in the form of a directive or a command. You know, incredible presence.

I didn't even know where Coleman, Alabama was. I look in the map. I knew I had to get somewhere. I couldn't be where I was. I was pastoring 2 communities and it was a

tribunal judge and a Chancery official and a whole bunch of titles and dying of this illness.

I heard a farewell from me in those two communities, I think for varying motives,

fitted,

and I slunk out. My plan was to drive to come in Alabama, which is 454 miles due northeast

of New Orleans, and I had to kind of find my way to New Orleans from where I was living. And on the way, what happened? My friend says. I took a drink and I went into a black house

and I parked my car at the airport to New Orleans. And I flew to New York and in the blackout, flew to Ireland in the blackout and stayed with my mother five days in the blackout and crossed the English Channel and stayed overnight in Paris. And a week later I came out of that blackout in a hotel room in Venice, Italy,

which is a slight detour from Cullman, AL

and all. Remember that hotel room of the four hideous terror, bewilderment, frustration and despair. But the terror, but not knowing,

the not knowing how did I get there and fill that death wish and loading myself. And nobody wanted me and I didn't want me. And it felt like everybody had pulled away from me. And of course I pulled away from everybody. Is what I'd done

had nothing to do with them really,

and vaguely remember coming back across Europe, vaguely and vaguely crossing this channel and vaguely wanting to fall into the channel and end this and seeing those forwards. God, please help me in continuing to drink and vaguely falling in the door, vaguely remembering falling in the door of Phantom Mine in Long Island, New York, Thanksgiving Day, 1985.

They told me after staying three days there and they thought I was going to die. And eventually I left them just kind, you know, the way we leave, you know,

getting to New Orleans and then remembering Strange that day, December 3rd, 1985,

heading NE from New Orleans when I arrived in Cullman, AL

the evening of December 3rd, 1985. And it's been a day at a time since

Hillary tucked me in and talked to me the following morning, Ollie said simply, was I put a roof over your head, I'll put food on the table and you will go to meetings. And I wasn't like asking me.

And I know where else to go.

I've nowhere else to go. I burned all my bridges. Nobody wanted me. I didn't even want me. I've even quote UN quote come back to you, the very people I detested and loaded. And I was absolutely convinced that even what you had to offer couldn't work.

I had nowhere to go

and Hillary said I'm going to assign another month to work with you.

And his name was Malachy

Maliki Shanahan, since gone home to God. Maliki was 14 years sober at the time and also at Parkinson's.

And oftentimes I became his meeting when he couldn't get out the way he wanted to and, and go to meanings. And I frequently go, I do not exaggerate 3 meetings a day because I have nowhere else to go. And part of the condition of living there was he will go to meetings. So go to meetings and call them. The downtown Coleman group became my Home group. Going up those stairs and the naked little bald in the ceiling and the sofas with the springs coming up out of them and, you know, just wonderful people who love me. And I was scared to death and.

Kind of just brought me in the door and they loved me when I didn't even want to love myself.

People that just are gifts in my life today.

Downtown Cuomo group became my Home group and I go to meetings and Boaz and Hey Arab and on the AMT and Decatur and Huntsville and was thrown into area assembly in Montgomery. And I mean everywhere there's a meaning. I mean it was like he went to a meeting, you know, and that was it. And no one questioned and those people continue to love me. And what Maliki Shanahan did was it was his role to walk me through the steps in order,

beginning with the first one.

And after three months of intense

exposure to Electronics Anonymous, I began to feel my oaths again.

I'm not sure you say it means keep coming back. And I began to get a little bit of resentful because I thought I didn't have to keep coming back as often as I had been coming back, you see.

And I come back to Maliki Shannon, and I start complaining to him. And I'd say they keep saying it's going to get better. When is it going to get better? And he'd say, I've got two questions for you, Maliki. The first question is, did you take a drink today? And I'd say no.

Did you get in trouble today? And I'd say no. Well then, he said. For an alcoholic, you are having a great day

and you would keep it up simple for me to get me over these humps where I was having what I would call intellectual orgasms. You know, I'm just being very, very absorbed in my own thinking.

Yeah.