Audio
Transcript
Source: Jack F – Speaker Talk – Date Unknown.mp3 File: jack-f-speaker-talk-date-unknown.mp3 Duration: 00:27:22
============================================================
I was so preoccupied with introducing the other speakers up here this morning that I forgot to introduce myself to you, but this isn't the only goof I ever made in my life. I am supposed to be the chairman of this panel. My name is Jack F. of Wooddale, Illinois. I am also listed as your third speaker of this panel. You've been listening to two very interesting talks, and on each panel that I've ever heard, they put a tolerance tester up here for you. That's me.
Before I get into my talk, I'd like to announce a special announcement here. There will be a special GSR and intergroup representative meeting with Beth K. at 5 p.m. in the North Room. That's the room directly behind this one. I consider myself the luckiest AA in this room or on the program anywhere. I think I have reason to believe this for myself. I'm not going to go into a lengthy talk. I don't want to run this program any later than we are now.
So I will not go into all the horrid details of the things that finally had to be, evidently, in order for me to be lucky enough to be a member of this great disorganized organization. My drinking started quite a number of years ago, and it finally culminated with a term in Stateville Penitentiary. This was necessary, evidently, because I heard a very fine talk one time by a priest on the program. He made a statement that made a lot of sense to me.
He said, things don't happen. They just don't happen. They're planned that way. I've come to believe this statement as time progressed. It's an oddity that I should be chairman of this panel and the third speaker following a fine talk by Ross, who has done much work with the Indiana Penitentiary, a former police officer, and here I am following him. Many things happened before I made my trip to Stateville Penitentiary, things that should have, to a normal person, probably instilled some desire to stop drinking.
But they didn't meet. One of these, I don't like to think about it, but it helps me in my program to once in a while remember it. I was confined in Cook County Jail on a check-forging embezzlement charge one time, and this was in 1958. Sitting there feeling very sorry for myself and writing letters home that I don't belong here with all these people and so forth and so on. My family should get me out on bond, and all these criminals here, a nice guy like me doesn't belong here.
And finally one morning, December 19th of 1958, a guard came to the Tierna County Jail, called my name and told me to get my belongings. And my first thoughts were my dad or my mother, by this time my wife had disowned me, and my first thought was either my dad or my mother finally came to their senses, they're going to get me out of this rat hole. So we went down to the front office. This was not the case. I was being escorted to my father's funeral, who had died of a heart attack a few days prior to this.
[00:05:05]
This isn't a very dignified way to go to any parent's funeral. I don't recommend it. This alone to a normal person should have instilled, like I said, a desire to stop drinking. Not me, it instilled more self-pity in me. And I finally went to Stateville Penitentiary. After dad's funeral we went to court. I went there for one to three years with nothing but feeling sorry for myself. I got a job in what they call the Diagnostic Center there. They had no AA there, I didn't want any anyway.
Prior to this I had been a member of AA, so-called member, around the program, not in it. Something like Jim here described in his talk when he was bouncing around the program before he got in it. This was me. I didn't want any AA in the Diagnostic Depot. I worked for psychologists and psychiatrists. I didn't need them, not much. And after a year they thought, well this guy's done such a nice job, he's cured now, we'll send him home.
They did. The only right thing I did when I left that penitentiary after serving a year there was go directly to the parole office like I was supposed to. This is the only right thing I did. From the parole office to a tavern. It took me three months to find my way back on parole violations, embezzlement, jackboards, you name it, I had it. And this time, again with self-pity. This brings me to a story I heard, probably many of you heard it.
It describes me to a T. It's an old story I heard many years ago in AA about the man that was walking through the field feeling very sorry for himself. And he's going to end it all. There's a river at the end of the field. A bald-headed man, no hat on, the sun is shining. He's walking through this field, he gets halfway through, a flock of birds fly overhead, and all of a sudden on his head, splash.
And he says, see God, for other people the birds sing. This was me. To a T. Nothing but self-pity. On this second trip to county jail though, after the trial and the judge was not too happy with me to say the least, he thought a double dose like two to six years in Stateville would be appropriate. And after the trial I was sitting in the chair one day and something out of the blue sky, clear blue sky, happened.
What? I don't know. It had to come from a higher power who I choose to call God. All of a sudden I had a desire to find out just exactly what this program was all about. And knowing I was going to Stateville, I wasn't conning anybody now. My mother wasn't writing. My wife had long since gone. And I had already been sentenced. I wasn't conning anybody, but all of a sudden I wanted to try this AA program.
And when I got down to the Diagnostic Depot, I made a request to go to Stateville, which was granted. And I got in touch with the AA coordinator, Earl R. of Stateville, who many of you know. As soon as possible, and as soon as possible, started going to AA meetings and trying to shut my mouth and trying to listen and learn a little bit about this program. This is when, as I like to call it, the story of miracles started to happen to me.
Today I know, what I think I know anyway, what value I place on my sobriety. Because the story of miracles in my life started in that tier in County Jail, when all of a sudden I had a desire to do something good with me. And maybe someday later for somebody else. The story of miracles began and I started to learn a little bit about the program, quite a bit about myself. I was lucky enough to be placed in the parole office as a clerk, lucky enough to be working for a wonderful man who was in charge of the parole office.
[00:10:06]
And lucky enough to have a little bit of brain power left to absorb a little bit of this program. This is why I call myself the luckiest AA alive. I don't think I should be alive through the escapades that I pulled. Time doesn't permit naming all of them. After about 18, 19 months of confinement, I was to appear before the parole board in a few months and all of a sudden I got the power of positive thinking.
I was going to make another parole. Why? I don't know. My record didn't indicate I should have one. My record didn't indicate I should have one. And everybody in the institution tried to discourage me, but I wouldn't be discouraged. I'm one of these stubborn AAs. When I want to drink, I'll drink. And when I want to get on the program, I'll get on the program. And when I want to think screwy, I think screwy.
And when I want to think positive, I do that too. So I started thinking positive, and I was going to make a parole, and lo and behold, it happened. And don't ask me why. I don't know. Prior to making this parole, though, I had written a brochure about myself, about 12 pages long, sent out applying for jobs. I had nobody on the outside anymore to look for a job for me, and I sent these out through the prison, telling the complete story of my life, as complete as I could and as honest as I could.
What's the sense in conning somebody? The address is the prison. I got a lot of nice letters, no thank you, the job's already filled, you know, courteous letters. But somehow I didn't become discouraged, and one day, sitting in a parole office, the parole officer got a phone call from a trucking firm and explained they had received one of my brochures, they would like to come out and interview me. He made the arrangements.
I applied, by the way, I applied for a job as a rake clerk. I had never worked in a trucking firm before. I didn't know if a rake clerk baked pizzas or what in the devil he did. But they liked what they saw in the brochure, evidently, and they wanted to interview me, which they did. And this was one of the screwiest interviews I've ever had. Usually, you know, when you go to an employment agency or something, you're applying for a job, you try to sell yourself.
What have I got to offer you? They come into the prison, they knew all about me before they came in. They're trying to sell me on joining their company. If they would have told me I had a shoveled garbage, I would have done it, just to get out of there and try a new life on the outside. So I was hired instantly at that interview, provided the parole board would concur and let me out, which they did.
Upon leaving the gates of Stateville this time, I had, like I said, a little bit of positive thinking. And I had made up my mind that this was my life from now on, to the best of my ability. And this is the road I traveled ever since. I went to work for a firm called Niedert Motor Service and Displains on October 3, 1962. Starting to learn about being a right clerk. They taught me, I worked nights.
These people are wonderful people. I will never in my life, even though I am no longer associated with their company, say anything against Ralph N. or Niedert Motor Service. They are wonderful people. They got a spot, a special spot for me. Recently, I had a chance to improve myself and join another company as traffic manager. And because I am ambitious, I had to take this chance. Whether it's going to work out or not, time will tell.
But God hasn't denied me anything yet, as long as I'm able to do it. But God hasn't denied me anything yet, as long as I try to follow the principles of this program to the best of my ability. of My Ability. But to get back to a few miracles, like I said, my wife has had by this time disowned
[00:15:06]
me. I went out to nothing except the room. Finally, my mother got in contact with me. We rented an apartment in Des Plaines. About six months after I was if needed, I was put in charge of a night shift there, lucky enough to learn fast, and I had a need for a part-time rate clerk. My son was visiting me then, one of them, and he wanted a part-time job, and I asked my supervisors if I could hire him. They said no. I said I want him. This went on and on and on. And they finally said, all right, you hire him, but if you hire him and he don't work out, you fire him, bearing in mind that maybe someday you want to get back with your family, and if you fire this kid, this isn't the best way to get back.
But I'm a gambling man, and I took my chances and hired Bob. He worked out to be one of the best rate clerks, part-time rate clerks, Neidert ever had, at least while I was with him. Today, he's in the service, studying to be an officer at Fort Dix, New Jersey. But while he was with us, he started talking to his mother at home. I hadn't seen her since 1958. This was about 1963 by now. And, gee, Dad, on the job every day, he don't drink anymore, he goes to AA meetings. You ought to have a date with him. Ah, baloney was her answer, you know. Can you blame her? She's heard this baloney all her life. But the kid is stubborn, like me, and finally he was on her back so much that she says, all right, all right, call him, I'll have a dinner with him, let's get it over with.
So we did, we went to Holiday Inn, Henry sees it, O'Hare Inn, one Saturday night, a hot July night, and had a very nice cold meal. You know what I mean? Boy, that meal was ice cold. After that, we went for a nice cold ride, and I took her home, and in about two weeks I got brave enough to call her and ask her for another date. She accepted, but I was planning this in the meantime, I thought, no more of this cold meal deal, we'll go out to Willowbrook and maybe if I get her on the dance floor, I can thaw the ice a little bit.
So we went out to Willowbrook and that's what happened, we got on the dance floor eventually after dinner, the dinner was cool, and we got on the dance floor and the thaw started to take place and about a month later I was back home, where I am today. These are all miracles because of the program, because of you people, because of God, as I understand them, without a doubt. I have become closer to God than I ever thought was possible for me to get. I'm not, don't get me wrong, I'm no saint, I'm no religious fanatic, I don't ever think I will be, and I don't think I have the qualifications, really, but at least I think I have learned how to pray and how to understand this higher power who I choose to call God. I think I have learned a little patience and tolerance because of this program.
Many things have happened since this time. Like I said, my son is in service studying to be an officer. My daughter was married last October to a very fine young gentleman, she's living in Bloomington. I had the good fortune of being able to walk her down the aisle in church because of the AA program. My son was married two weeks ago today, my oldest son, and we had a very fine reception. I was there, there were drinks there, I paid the bill for the drinks, but I was sober and it was a privilege to pay it. I had five glasses of ginger ale for $234, and they say this program is free, but I had a wonderful time and everybody else did too. And these are the benefits I've derived, the fringe benefits
[00:20:00]
from this program. Being able to be up here, being privileged to be up here, attending this conference. I shouldn't be. As far as I'm concerned, any ordinary human being would have been dead by now. But I feel, and this is why I don't hedge in any of my talks, regardless of whether it's an open, closed, a big or small group, I feel that God wanted me alive for some purpose. What, I don't know. But maybe someday, someplace, somewhere or somehow, something I say will make sense to somebody else and maybe that person won't have to go through what I had to go through in order to find what I have now. Today I have a choice.
I got a lot of choices today. But I choose to be here, and that brings me to a little story that my wife brought home from United Airlines about a choice. There was a couple of clergymen flying somewhere on a United plane, and this is no plug for United, she just works there. And the stewardess came by after they were in flight for a little while, asked one of the clergymen what he would like to drink. He says, oh, I'll have a martini. And you, sir, what would you like to drink? Do you like a martini or Manhattan? Oh, no, no, no, not me. I'd rather commit adultery than have any one of those things. So the first clergyman says to the stewardess, stewardess, will you please cancel that drink? I didn't know we had a choice. Courtesy United Airlines. But like I said, today I have a choice. I don't have to go back to where I was. I don't have to put not only myself, but anybody else associated with me through the hell they had to go through before. I can try to the best of my ability to work the 12 suggested steps of this program, and with these 12 steps, I can't go wrong if I try. Sure, there's going to be things that come up. The company I just joined five months ago, two days, five months ago today I joined them. A month after I joined them, we burned down. Now we're up for sale. But these are things that I know God will work out for me and the company provided I stay on this program and try to work it the best way I know how. My first meeting that I went to outside the prison walls was at Tiffin Alano Club on the north side of Chicago, and at that first meeting I was given this battered-up card. It wasn't battered up when they gave it to me, but it is now through a little bit of handling. And I was one of these people that like to pick you out of the audience or you or somebody back there. He or she won't make this thing. I don't like their attitude. I don't like this judging people, you know. I was forever doing this and this was one of my big downfalls. I try not to do this anymore. And it's because of this card that I believe I have been helped in not doing this. And I'd like to close this little talk with this, with the writing on this card, and it states, has God deserted heaven and left it up to you to judge what's right or wrong or what people should or shouldn't do? No, he's still in business and knows when to wheel the rod. So when you're judging people, remember, you're not God. And I thank you very much.
Thank you very much on behalf of myself and the panel, the other guest speakers. First,
[00:25:17]
I have a few announcements before we close. There are some banquet tickets left. And if you'll, they're at the back of the back table, Frank. If you'll step to the back table, anybody that wants them, they will be glad. They're going to close the sale of them very soon. So as soon as we close here, pick up your banquet tickets at the back of the room. I also have a card here that somebody forgot to pick up at the desk, Josephine F.. If she'll step up here after we close, we have her hello card up here. We'll have a luncheon break now until 1 o'clock, which gives you approximately 55 minutes. You were supposed to have an hour and a half, but we got pretty gabby up here. And there will be an Al-Anon guest speaker at the 1 o'clock session.
So have a fine lunch, everybody. Thank you for attending. And shall we close this first session with the Lord's Prayer, please? Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.