Clara S. from Los Angeles, CA at 19th Annual Singles in Sobriety convention, Lake Murray, OK

Good evening. My name is Claire and I'm an alcoholic and I'm grateful to be sober and a proud member of the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous. And I'd like to thank Maggie and the and the committee for the honor and the privilege to be asked to come and share my experience, strength and hope with you, which is always a privilege to participate in any meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

She, she and Susie picked me up at the airport yesterday. And and when I got that call, they used to call us

sometimes ahead of their conferences and they told me it was a singles conference. And I've been doing this for a lot of years, but I've never been things conference. And I said, I'll come just to put my name on the list

and and we just, you know, get that opportunity to hop on. I call the big birds and and we show up in the airports and, you know, we don't care. Big books under our arms or we, you know, it's just like, you know,

we just kind of have that, that, that, that eye contact. And when I, you know, got in the airport and they said there was, there was a carousel B8, I think. And of course now with everything. So Martin, I whip out my cell phone and I 'cause I don't see Maggie and she's always B7. So she said, oh, I'll come right over. So here they come trucking over there and we get in the car and we, we have a, you know, a meeting

as we always do, you know, on our way here. And it's always, you know, again, I walk into these rooms and thank you for your hospitality. And it's been a wonderful, wonderful weekend. And, and I look at your smiling faces and I know one more time I'm standing in the sunlight of the spirit, Alcoholics Anonymous. And I, I'm so glad to be here. And congratulations to the chip takers. And wasn't, wasn't that countdown awesome? You know, and I just love that moment

sitting, standing all the skiers of sobriety in this room. And when I got the Alcoholics Anonymous, I was a full blown Y net

in the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous, which is the basic text of our program

in chapter three more about alcoholism, it explains the insane things that we sometimes continue to do to keep from doing step 1-2 and three.

And in that list of incidents is one of them said we switched to natural wines.

Man, I had switched a Ripple

and that is not one in natural wines. I don't think a single grape, a single grape was ever near that stuff.

I I don't know what they put in it. You know, by the time I got to the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous, I was literally doing a dance with death

and it was still in the paper bag. And I ended up in in South Central Los Angeles doing that dance. I come from the jazz world, Boston, NY, Harlem, in Lausanne and LA. And, and I know about the dance and I know when the music stops. And I tell you that the music had stopped and I was still trying to make it work again.

And I was had gotten to that place for alcohol. Something didn't work for me anymore,

but I had to lose a lot of things before I got down there. And

we tell our story in a general way, what it used to be like, what happened and what it's like now, and I had lost it all. Thank you God,

I never thought I'd stand at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous and say thank you that you took away from me. Everything I wanted in order to give me what I needed came that time in my life when I needed to stop drinking. I needed to find a God of my understanding and I simply need to stop dying. And after 24 years in a marriage and my ex-husband and I drank,

drank to drink for all those years and we'd ended up, and I had long since cross that invisible line that we talked about.

And I'm standing outside of the house in Los Angeles that we had had some success in a, in a business and a maintenance business, property management maintenance business. And my oldest son who was born in Boston, and I'll tell you that story, who was 18 at the time, and my two younger children were born in Los Angeles. And

I was standing outside the house and watching the Marshall put the lock on the door

and my beautiful home and all those outside things that were supposed to make me fit and be somebody. And I watched the Internal Revenue, you know, shut me down. And I came in here owing thousands of dollars in payroll taxes and on and on and on. And the part of the second step of my tolling sanity. And by this time, and I'm in in violent behavior and I'm and that husband's gone because we were doing, we were doing a dueling dance with, with, with, with weapons

by this time. And I was totally out of control. And at the second-half of the first step in my life was totally unmanageable. I had no idea that alcohol had anything to do with this. It was always people, places and things that they get off my back. You know, everything would get better.

We're standing outside the house. He was gone because he said, you know, if I stay, you will either kill me or I'll kill you. It's time to go. And I'm standing outside the house. And that 18 year old son

was standing and look at me with that look. I don't know if you've had them look at you, that look and, and, and of an 18 year old son with tears in his eyes and they just didn't run. I guess it wasn't macho for an 18 year old young man to to cry over a drunken mother, you know, who was beginning to wake up for strain with strangers for the price of a drink. And he looked at me and he said,

I don't know who you are.

Never been there for us. That youngest son was, I think about 12 at the time. And my little daughter was eight. And they'd never, you know, been lived under these conditions. And they were frightened and I could look and see their fear and I could feel that pain, but I didn't know what else to say to them. But I looked at him and said, and screw you two in the arrogance of the of the alcoholic. But what I couldn't tell that young son is but you don't understand.

You know, when I take a drink, the drink takes me and then I give it to power

because I can't stop drinking.

But instead I said, you know, screw you. I had a blue sheet of paper with all my all of all my sad weather friends is Bill Wilson, the co-founder of our program. And I believe that this program was divinely inspired. And and he talks about his Fairweather friends. And they were all gone. And my wonderful family and my brothers and sisters who had all been very successful in their careers and, and they, they were living in Los Angeles at the time

and they had hit me goodbye.

And I am standing out on that sidewalk with a little piece of paper and a name on it and an address. And I didn't know where this place was, but I called the cab and I and I ended up and it was in the ghetto South Central Los Angeles. And the dance really started. I walked into that house and I drew the drapes and I'm sure I was doomed to die of this disease. I put on my drinking roll which was a white Terry cloth robe with wine stains on it

and I was was wearing this bright red wig

that had bangs

and I used to get drunk and trim the bangs.

That all the son said he wouldn't go, so he left. He left us, you know, he just left us standing out

of that house and he was gone. So I had the two younger ones and I would come out of the black. I'm a real alcoholic, the kind is describing the book. And by this time I'm in horrendous blackouts most of the time. And I'd come to out of blackouts around no ten, 11:00 at night. And my heart would be pounding like a drum. And it was pounding not from excitement and living on the edge. And I'll tell you about what it was like living on the edge for many years. And it was fear,

and I was terrified that I was going to die. That had been always on top of my list. You know, from time I was five years old, I was always afraid of death. And I knew that the only thing that would resolve that was to get out of that house and get over to the nearest sleazy bar in, in, in that area, in that neighborhood. There's about 6 liquor stores in it within radius of two blocks and and then all these sleazy bars in between.

And so I don't know about you guys, but I was. I love those bonds and I love that music and I love that empty laughter

and I always crawled upon the stool at the end of the bar and what were looking in that mirror. I don't know how many about you ladies, but I met a lot of out of work commercial airline pilots

once in a while. I need a neurosurgeon,

you know, one that I should never forget. This one. He was sitting on my left, very attractive, you know, and, and nervous dude. And he kept looking around and he introduced himself and he told me he was a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force. I was really impressed with him because he's about 24 years old

and he kept some looking around and he said actually he said

YouTube pilot baby.

Oh, and we're sipping on our $0.49 glass of wine. And

he said, yeah, he sat fly secret missions all over the world. And he looked around. I said, really? He said, yeah. He said, baby, last night I flew over Russia.

I said, I know what you did because I was with you on that trip, you know?

You know, there's a little paragraph in the vision for you that says some of us thought what sort sought it places looking for understanding, companionship and approval. And I'm always looking out there looking for love. And I don't know what would happen, though we'd always all this geniuses sitting on, you know, looking in the mirror, probably feeling like that song about Eleanor Rigby and wonder where all those lonely people were coming from.

And then by the the the legal output to the bars to close in LA is 2:00 in the morning.

And I don't know what would happen between those bars and that little sleazy dump of a place that I lived, but I would come to again at that awful hour of the morning where they dumped me in the front yard 3:00 and 4:00 and 5:00. And and it all, I was always seeing so dark and it always seemed so cold and it always seemed darkest right before dawn.

And in California in April, they called mysterious nightbirds. And they come out. It's like the stroke of 12.

And there I am in a field position in the grass. And then they hear, I would listen to these birds and these tall palm trees, dogs traveling packs in, in, in, in that area where I lived. And it was in the days when there was metal trash cans out on the sidewalk. And I could hear. It would take several of these dogs to push the can into the street. And I could still hear the zinging noise of the lid as would crawl down the street. And I'm down there in that grass making deals with

didn't believe in, but it was unusual. My alcoholic prayer was God, if you Get Me Out of this one

and I hear the dogs barking and screaming and fighting each other over the garbage, you know it's all about survival when you live, you know, in that kind of environment. But in the face of my gorgeous little daughter with the big brown eyes would come into my consciousness and she say things to me like mom. You always promised me, you know that you're going to come to PTA meeting, that you get drunk.

All my friends parents come. Why don't you ever come? And I'd look at her

and by this time I'm crying silent tears. I have no more tears of laughing. I have more no more lies, you know, to tell her. There's a line in the in the in the dark and the doctor's opinion this we come to a place where we can't differentiate the difference between the truth and the false. And I'm living a line. I can't tell this little child. I'm a little girl of mine. You know that, that I'm going to come. And I would say to her things like, well, next time, next time.

And I and I'm drinking around the clock and I had to, I would have to have a drink, you know, just to get out of the chair.

But you know, I'd say the next time you there's a PTA meeting, please let me know. And you know, I'm 28 years and on Monday it'll be 28 years and five months over. And I've been to APTA meeting yet, you know,

because Doctor Super says what happens is a phenomenon of craving would start the moment my eyes were opened. And

so there I was there in that ghetto and I'd have to get up out of that, out of that grass and rush up the steps and charge down that hall and, you know, and, and, and get to that dirty bathroom and get on my knees on front of the toilet bowl,

do a few chin UPS,

you know, chin sliding around, trying to find a comfortable place to rest. And it seems to me sometimes that that I was going to throw up my very soul and go and fall into a black hole again and head leaning against that cold porcelain. And I know, did you ever, you know, come out of a blackout and the room is spinning. And, you know, I used to try to slow down the spin by focusing on something in the two words that always greeted me was American Standard

I

So I get up off the floor, get dressed to make the run, break the promise of the kids not going down to the liquor store at 6:00 that morning. And you know, I'm 65 lbs overweight. And you don't get to buy gourmet food when food stamps and, and, and eke out a few pennies from the from the welfare funds and, and, and go down there and stand in front of the liquor store door, put on the tight jeans, put on bad leather jacket. Show them a dark

put on, you know my Starfire earrings Hanging down to my shoulders and my motor transportation by then was a pair of gold fuzzy house slippers.

Charge, cast the kids room, don't want to wake them up. Get to that front door, open it quietly, you know, sneak down and still dark outside, feel like a thief in the night past three houses. Get down on Western Ave. and lean on the door. Wait for the man to come. And I'm so grateful to God and my loving God that my parents, my loving parents didn't see their baby daughter, you know, ending up in front of the liquor store at 6:00 in the morning. And here comes the dude and the big bad Lincoln and I

that and it didn't save me. And walk inside and stand at that counter and wait for him to put the change away.

Something about clerks in getting the ghetto at 6:00 in the morning when you're the only customer they can be cruel. And I'm standing there, you know, shaking, wetting myself sometimes. And I could feel it going down into my fuzzies and, and I'm trying to be cute. I haven't been cute for a very long time.

I have no way. And, and, and he leaned on it. He just, you know, he put the bottle of wine in the paper bag and he'd lean on and he'd play with the bag at the top and say things like, who's drinking all this wine, baby?

I said, listen, you, I have houseguests.

I had to add a guest at my house in a long time. I had and he said you serve Ripple,

snatch it out of his hands and get up past a little plaque vest where to go around the side, lean on on on on the building. You know, my days for fine drinking was over. I no longer drank out of Baccarat crystal glasses and I didn't have to worry about, you know, bottle openness and and you know, if the face is a smiling handsome men.

I just opened up that and took a hit and it went down and

I was going to make it for another hour,

get back to that house and sit in that chair and I listen to my kids fix their own breakfast and luncheon. And, you know, it wasn't long after that the grandparents had taken away. And I'm sitting in the chair and so watching the real dawn come up,

probably feeling like the man who said I had a dream last night.

The light was passing me by. No longer in the dreams of life, I'm dying physically, emotionally and spiritually dying in the chair.

I am sitting there wondering how did this all happen? And I would reflect on growing. I grew up in Atlanta. I was born at Grady Hospital in Atlanta, GA and my father was a full bedded Cherokee Indian of Cherokee Nation. They're doing a reservation until he was in his early 20s in North Carolina. And by, you know, I'm going to be speaking in North Carolina in about four or five weeks. And every time I get the chance to go over to the East Coast, I

visit that reservation. When I was a little girl, I said, remember my dad talking about it. I'm the youngest of seven children.

My brothers and sisters of the of the seven were not and are not Alcoholics. And I am the one I believe was born restless, irritable and discontented right out of the chute. Man, I got to have a little drinking pool. I could have a little drinky pool in the 1st grade, you know, and it would help me get to the second grade. And because I had trouble in Georgia, I was always rebellious right from the beginning.

And I can remember my poor loving mother saying, Clara, why don't you behave and act like the other children? Well, I hated the other children and I want did not want to like them. I was scared of them. So, you know, I remember standing by to my little seat. You know, they had those little, little little seats, but it's in school with the arm attached to the back and and you know, I'd be standing there. I was terrified of people and I don't know why never, but I grew up in a wonderful home, wonderful parents and, and I, we had everything.

My father was an artist and an entrepreneur and we had all those outside things. And, and I just don't, I didn't know, think that I belong to them actually, that I used to talk, they used to talk about the stalk. I used to think they dropped me off somewhere on the front porch 'cause I was so different from the rest of them. And, and I would, and I would just, you know, hang out alone in the woods and, and, and I was just, I just was confused about life and terrified. And as I said earlier about death,

my mother dragged me off to church a lot that was really resentful about that. And I had a lot of trouble with God at a very early age.

But every time they crack the door, I was the center on the front seat. I never could figure that one out. I had a lot of mixed messages growing up. And so I remember when I was a senior at Booker T Washington High School in Atlanta, I want an art scholarship that took me to the Boston Museum School of Fine Arts. And that's where I was educated. And so I I remember sitting on that segregated train and giving Atlanta the finger and.

And I'm pouting, you know, and and I'm looking out the window and I'm saying I'll fix them. Yeah, I'll fix them, you know, And they didn't even know I was leaving town. You know,

I remember riding in Boston, you know, and I just going to be a whole new thing. And here I grew up in Union Baptist Church and and I was never allowed to do all those things. My mother always told me it was the devil's work. You're going to wear lipstick. You don't go to you don't date, you don't do this. And you don't do that. And you don't take performing arts in school,

that is, That's the devil's work. I never knew what the devil was, but I didn't. He was sure busy in my life.

I walk into that school and I read the arts calendar sometimes now and some of the students when I was a freshman, they'll do they'll be in the art world in this country now. And and I went and I was terrified of them. I looked around that room. I didn't belong there either. And you know, when I grew up in Georgia, it was a dry state. And I, I was sober before I learned that they,

you know, they had bootlegger. I just didn't, I'd never seen alcohol. I didn't know it existed. And I never seen a person intoxicated, had no idea that there was alcohol around. And so I was started hanging out in the movies because I'm free at last I can go. I'd never, I'm 19 years old, never been to a movie. So I go into the movies and I started hanging out and watching people up on the screen live. And I thought, hey, that must be really exciting. I wonder how they do that.

And I, and I, but I always loved jazz music. And

I can't, doesn't mean that I, my fantasy wasn't because I Can't Sing and I can't dance and we don't all have rhythm, right?

It's a myth. It's a myth. It's a myth. So I started hanging out in the movies and watching me. I couldn't believe it. One night I'm walking down the street with a friend,

another student, and she and I were walking on that. He was great. Jazz music come out of the doors. These people walked out. And I said to her, just on the hunch, I said, let's go in and see what they're doing. And we walk into this room and it was dimly lit, and you're wrong with the cigarettes and the booze. And down at the end of the ball was this rather portly lady and she was singing the Blues.

And my heart start that that kind of feeling with that excitement. And that was something I'd always been looking for. And and I walk up to the bar and I said to the bartender, what are you going to? He said, what are you going to have to drink? And I didn't know. But in the movies they always talked about martinis. And I was about to commit my first hip slick Colac. You know, I leaned on the barn. I looked at it and I said, we'll have a martini hunt. I said, and make it dry. I had no idea where to drive.

Guy turns around, he puts these two lovely stem glasses up on the barn and he even and I love his can and and it looked like lemonade. But you know how hard it is in this area of the country and and down in Georgia at I didn't know your sip drinks

because I it looked like lemonade and my mom used to have pictures of lemonade and hot summertime and I just looked around and I picked it up and I dumped it. Man, I was a pig from the gate, you know,

But I remember the way it made me feel. Doctor Silkworm says men and women drink essentially because he liked the effect produced by alcohol.

I've never had a date. And I walked. I now have a permanent smile and empty glass in my hand. I walk out on the dance floor and these couples were dancing. And I looked around and I started looking. I got myself some new friends at night. You know, I called them colorful, but the big book calls them loyal companions.

I walk out there and I hooked up with the pimps, the hookers, the madam's and the bad boys. And I learned how to walk the walk and talk to talk. And I know about all about St. life. And you know, I I still have my I still love jazz music. It's on my in my car all the time.

And my favorite artists, jazz artist today is Randy Crawford. And she sings a song that really fits. The lyrics fit me because every time I listen to it, it's quite popular, even in commercials. Now, I'll paraphrase the words when it says, if you are young, don't get old in the streets. Cole is going to hit you in the back. You're going to nickel and dime your life away. That's a lot. 1000 lives to play out there

till you play your life away. And that was me.

I started that game. I met this nice young man on a bar one night. He came from a lovely family in Boston and

he didn't know much about drinking. And we kind of learned together. And we and I, I'm a real alcoholic. It was took me years to get in trouble before I really crossed that line. And, you know, I never threw up. And I just, you know, I, you know, I never drank in the daytime until when I crossed that line, it started getting where I always waited to what I call a respectable cocktail hour at 6:00. I would start to drink for years,

but then, you know, it got down to 3:00 in the afternoon and I had the long lunches and then it got to 10:00 in the morning. And then at 5, at 6:00 in the morning when I'm getting off the floor, I said, well, it's 5:00 somewhere in the world, you know, go on and drink. And so we, we, we started living that life and it was a marvelous time for ever going to start drinking because I could walk into those jazz clubs and, you know, Bill Wilson just love those clubs. And we talked about it when we read about it in his story

and he talked about them chatting in the thousands and, you know, and, and now they chat in the billions and, and we, I just walked in there and I could walk in any club. I became very friendly with the late great legend Billie Holiday. So I started palling around with Billie Holiday. And then there was Louis Armstrong. And I can still see him, you know, in those clubs with, you know, the perspiration on that white handkerchief. And I started hanging out with with Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis and I could go on down

and it was they were always JJ Johnson. And if you're a jazz fan, you know, the names that I'm calling some of your younger probably never heard of these people, but but it's part of my story. And so my husband and I really love the life and we love the lifestyle. I know the difference between lifestyle, you know, and life today because I have the life of God's gift for the program Alcoholics Anonymous. And it's a life that I live with, with the freedom that the book promises and and the promises certainly have come true

life. So I was I just started hanging out and we had a little son and I pushed that little son off on the grandparents to raise him. You know that, you know, there's a part in the book that describes the kind of practicing alcoholic, you know, I was when it says selfishness and self centeredness that we think is the root of our troubles. And it goes on in that paragraph to say we're driven people and we're driven by 100 forms of fear.

Self, self. What is it? Self Self seeking, self seeking self whatever

new self delusion and self pity. And that was me. And I could add to my list at an item all, all of those, those, those fears that that that haunted me all the time. So I had to go visit that little boy, you know? And they grow up and they look at you with that look. And he said, but mom, you promised me the last time that you were here to visit that you're going to take me to the park. And I said, yeah, but next time,

you see, because I was too busy, I had to get back down town in Boston and crawl up on the stools with the other geniuses and, and, you know, and solve the problems of the world.

And that's the way it was. And, you know, and it just got worse. And it might. He traveled a lot and his family's company. And so I decided that, you know, I I'm one of those that has a compulsive personality. One is not enough. And I need some more excitement. I'm still on that search for something that's going to fill me up on the inside instead of all the outside stuff. And so I'm sitting there and this is the truth. I'm sitting there on a stool, really holiday sitting there. We're talking

and this man walked in and I have been looking. I knew there was a man out there somewhere

and he was going to fill my life and take full responsibility for it. He walked up and I'll describe him. He had a Black Hat turned around all, all down, all the way around. He had a top coat over showing. This dude was so cool. He couldn't put his arms through the sleeves, you know,

And he walked up there and he reached, and he leaned over and he reached in his pocket. He pushes

$10100 bills on the top of the Barney spread it like a deck of cards and he leaned over and whispered, spending. Well, I knew that God, that I didn't believe in it, answered my prayer on that one. So I,

and he turned out to be the head of the Mafia of the Boston family.

And I learned what it was to run with the mob for a few years, bodyguards, limousines, and you guys who like classic cars. It was an old Mercedes with the, with the square trunk and white, white wall tires. And they always had the, the guns on the floor and, and the husband's out of town. And I'm just living it up and I have a party girl and, and I'm living the dangerous life and, and, you know, it just seems to me we just go over to New York for, for a drink and we, we go

Harlem and, and, you know, and see all the great, all the great stars at the time that were, you know, performing in Harlem. It was exciting, but there was always that like that emptiness inside. I couldn't fill it up, tried so hard, you know, and, and it got worse. And then when was one beautiful Sunday morning, my loving God that I've come to believe in would seem to me to try to get my attention

and

was I looked, it was the English, it was a New England church, beautiful church.

And

these young families were all about across the street, apparently going into that church. And I'm sitting in the back of the limousines with the with Blackie and that memorial, the bodyguards and, and Mr. Wonderful was hungover. And we've just spent all that money. We've been over to the opening of the great jazz club called Birdland in New York. And, and Billy Eckstine had been the ultimate star. And we'd gone over there just to see that, and

it was like a voice that to me, Claire, something's wrong with your life.

And I agreed the problem was Boston.

And

he came home, The husband came home and I said we're going the LA in Army. We just closed up that house. My son's 10 years old. I stopped visiting him because I can't stand the guilt and I can't stand that look. And so I put him in the back of the car. We drove out straight out Route 66, you know, right in the LA. And I went with good intentions. I always went with good intentions if I took the drink and all the good intentions went out of the window and I called off crawled upon the first bar stool in the in LA

and we started on started the run all over again. Then we had those two kids. We went into the small business and you know, again come the time we stopped hanging in the clubs and now we're having the wild parties and you know, any excuse to drink. And my house was always filled with with people and we were drinking and it was young and I remember that I used to sit in that clone Billy Holiday sing a song. But when the spending in and the money is gone,

they don't come around no more. And when I'm standing out in front of that liquor store door, you know, in the cold mornings, not one of them ever showed up

and said, how, how are you, Claire, this morning? And what are you going to do about your life today? And I, you know, I walk into my first meeting of Alcoholics and moms. I got my sponsor that night. And she looked in my eyes and she asked me one question. Do you want to stay sober today? And that was the beginning of this journey.

So I, so I, I, I just started, you know, losing it all, like I explained earlier. And now I'm sitting in there, the parents, grandparents have taken away those two younger kids that I've lost all contact with the oldest son who left.

And and I'm just, you know, I'm out in, in, in blackouts now, waking up in places in places like County General Hospital in downtown Los Angeles. Which is not one of your favorite HMO's

and nervous interns? You know, patching me up

while being beaten up in the streets up by strangers, you know, out of those bars on the influence of of of alcohol. And then one morning came that came. The one that was the rocker was on another Sunday morning

and I was like right in front of, you know, the Forum, which is a place where the then the LA Lakers used to play basketball and I want Crenshaw and I'm in a blackout. And it was a it was a like early Sunday morning at my head is against the curb and it was a cowboy, a cowboy boot with a leg attached to it. And I, and I knew it was cowboy boots because it had a, it had a metal cleat at the toe. And he's kicking me in the head.

And I remember going in and out of consciousness and I would come out again and then I could hear my ribs just being kicked in one at a time. See, I know about pain. I know about emotional pain and I know about physical pain. And the pain has no memory. I'm living the life of the, of the jaywalker of what total insanity is so beautifully described in the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. You know, I am hanging out with insane friends and doing insane things

and always expecting and always expecting a different results. And there I am, you know, in that street and I'm screaming. And when I come to again, I'm in Daniel Freeman Hospital, which is a little, little area outside of the ghetto and paramedics, people who are dedicated in saving your life. Hey, when you don't want your life saved. How many times did I sit in that overstuffed chair contemplating suicide only to learn that suicide is a final solution to

problems? And I'm sitting in there, you know, on that, in that, on that Gurney. And they escalate. They didn't push me down and they strapped me down. And they've got tubes hooked up to me and they're pumping me back to life. And two nuns were standing at the side of the bed. And then we talked about the moment of clarity and the police with the foot of the bed and all. The nun wasn't thrilled with me at all.

She's leaning over me with these horn rimmed glasses and she had on the black cabin. She had a hands through the sleeves

and she's leaning over me and she's pointing to and then she took the hand and she pointed to the police and she said you tell him and she doesn't know that you know, I don't know until this day as I stand here. And I don't know who did that, but but I didn't want her to know that I didn't know. And and I told her to buzz off and I told the police to buzz off. And she walked to the door and she stood there and she looked back and she shook her head sadly

and threw her head up like that. And she walked away. But the young nun stood there, probably in her early 20s

with a white habit on, and all I could see was this part of her art face and her eyes were as blue as the heavens. And this young nun started to cry and her tears fell on the covering of the dead. And she had a some gauze and a solution and she was wiping the blood out because I had a brain concussion. And she was wiping the blood at the corner of my eyes and I had a broken nose and

and she leaned over me and quietly said, how did you ever

that your life get into such a state?

And I looked up at her and I know never occurred to me, not once you talk about the self second step in the insanity of our disease. I just couldn't figure it out. And I didn't say anything. And you know, in those days, the way they treated Alcoholics, they just picked us off up off the streets and and they would take us into the hospitals and they would just treat you, call you for 72 hours. It was not about the treatment of alcoholism. It was just a treatment for whatever, whatever your injury was.

And one of those interns used to take how they treated my injury was they put the gauze around your chest. They took 2 1/2 inch wide adhesive tape and they walked around and they pulled it together to pull the ribs back in place, which left you standing over, bending over. And and that third day I was there, that same young nun, for some reason all those nuns was assigned to dress me.

And I should never remember forget how she came down that they that morning

and she put, you know, put her arms around me and I had my leather jacket over because I couldn't get my arms through the sleeves. And you should have seen it trying to figure out where the bangs went on the on the wig, you know,

and I

and then she patted me and she told me I looked wonderful and, and I had on my house slippers and I, we went to the front door of Daniel Freeman Hospital. The spiritual being this year is and I've come to believe that we're all born spiritual being beings. And it's our humanists in the road that we walk that we try to find. She stood there with her arms around me and she said, try not to drink today. And I'm in such pain I can hardly walk. When I went to the first liquor store,

that's what I did. I went to the first liquor store and standing there, this pitiful being, you know, we, you know, alcoholism, you know, has no gender. But I know the price of an alcoholic woman and the price I paid. And I stumbled into the first liquor store and I bought a bottle of Ripple.

And the man looked at me and he just handed it to me like I was scum. And I went on back down to a few blocks away where I lived, and

I walked there. It was painful. And I don't know what happened on April the 9th, 1974. I came out of that blackout that morning on a dirty floor. The stench was unbelievable. I lost the willed care. I just bolted off that floor

screaming. I cannot live like this again.

I can't eat living like this. God, please help me.

I've come to believe in the power of prayer. It was that simple. Now, what I've learned in Alcoholics and Mom is that Alcoholics Anonymous is a simple program for complicated people.

I got up off that floor, just scream. It was dark. Thank God that there were no strangers in my house that morning because the men in my life by this time had faces, no names, and often was for the price of a drink.

I call my best friend who is not an alcoholic, and she told me about Alcoholics Anonymous. She said I don't know what they do, but they help each other stay sober and little that she's still my friend. We went out to dinner last week. She said, little do they know, little did she know that, that, that that's what we do Through God's grace and the program of alcohols and all, we help each other stay sober