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Source: DICOBE-00485 – Jackie S – FLORIDA STATE CONF – 1980-08-28.mp3 File: dicobe-00485-jackie-s-florida-state-conf-1980-08-28.mp3 Duration: 00:43:12
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My name's Jackie and I'm an alcoholic. I think my vocal cords are paralyzed. I've got two ex-husbands that wouldn't believe I'm almost speechless. And I did drive. I drove from Fairhope, Alabama. But I had the pleasure last November of chairing the 18th Annual Hawaii AA Conference. And as a result of that chairmanship, I'm here tonight. Thanks to John and his lovely wife, Dorothy. They were over there. And so here I am. So you just never know. And Fairhope was originally my home. And I had lived in Honolulu for the last 15 years. And my God, in his wisdom and sense of humor, felt fit to send me back to Alabama.
And I've had to eat a lot of crow since then because I wasn't ever going to live back in that little bitty town again. And I'm there and I love it. And that's also part of my story. I'm scared. And my nose is itching. And when my nose itches, that means I'm nervous. So if I have to stomp and scratch, I'll just excuse me. I thought, you know, I'm not a circuit speaker. About the largest group I've ever shared was maybe a little bit smaller than this. And it's only been once. And I don't have a canned speech. And I thought, well, now what am I going to do when I get up there and see all those people besides pass out?
And I thought, well, I'm going to play like it's just a plain old ordinary AA meeting. And about ninety nine and forty four percent of you aren't there. OK, that's the only way I can do it. So with the rest, ninety nine and forty four percent of you aren't here. But I'm glad you are here because if you aren't here, I wouldn't be here. And I like being here. The first group of any size I ever spoke to, I was about a year sober and I was shaking just like I am now. And this great big man, we call it Big Pete, says, well, Jackie, you wrote the script. What you so nervous about?
Yeah, I did. I wrote the script and I lived it. And nobody can tell it the way I can. We all can share with what got us here and what's happened since we've been here. But it's my story and my story only. You see, I wasn't going to be here. I'm a daughter of an alcoholic. I'm a stepdaughter of an alcoholic. And I was married to a practicing alcoholic for 10 years. Now, I buried my stepfather with 18 years of sobriety and I buried my mother with 21 years of sobriety. That first practicing alcoholic apparently is still out there. I'm a lucky lady.
And what got me here is pain. Oh, just the pain. You know, from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. I'm sure there's a lot of people in this room remember the It Girl in the movie. I think they called her Clara Bow or something like that. Well, I'm the It Girl. I've got an awful lot of yets ahead of me. And like I said, I'm a lucky lady. Because when I came into this program, there's a lot I hadn't done. But you people told me I could and I still can. I still had my health. I still had a job and a semblance of a family, but I'll get into that yet later.
Like I said, I was born and raised in Fairhope, Alabama, which is right across the bay from Mobile. It's about that big. And it was one of those little communities with all the good peer pressure and nice Southern ladies don't do those kind of things and remember who you are and you don't do that thing. And I walked down the street and I was Mr. Bob's granddaughter. I was Jack's daughter and I was Marcus's wife. And people would say, if someone called me by name, I'd kind of want to go, who? Because I didn't have any identity. At least I didn't feel like I did.
And I had a pretty normal childhood. I think most of us did. And went to high school in Mobile. Graduated from Murphy's High School. And ten days after graduation in 1951, y'all will figure out how old I am from that.
[00:05:07]
We moved to California. My father was in maritime service and my mother and I moved out there to be closer to him because he was moving in. Now you take somebody transplanted from Fairhope, Alabama and you put them in San Francisco at 18 and 19 and 20 and 21 years old, you've got a problem. And I had a ball. I loved every minute of it. I had my first drink. Well, Mother had always told me, you know, now darling, if you ever get in a position that you feel like you must order a drink, order a Tom Collins. That's a nice lady's drink. I said, okay.
Well, I had my first drink in Pat O'Brien's in New Orleans and it was a squall. And I loved it. And I liked what it did to me. There was drinking in my home and the alcoholism came later. I was taught to drink like a lady. You know, I'm sure most of us ladies were taught to drink like ladies. And after I moved to San Francisco, I discovered alcohol and what fun it was. And in those days it was fun. I had a ball with it. I lived out there four years and I returned to Alabama and married the boy next door. And within six weeks after the marriage, I discovered it was a tragedy and it was. I had married a prostitute and an alcoholic.
And I stayed with this marriage for ten years. Nobody was going to ruin my marriage, at least of all him. You know, the good martyr. You, Al-Anon, God, I love you. And I didn't go to Al-Anon because I was afraid. I was physically frightened. During this marriage is when my mother and stepfather came into the program. They were already in the program when I was in San Francisco and I used to go to the club blues with them and all that.
So I've been around AA since I was 18 years old. And I knew they got sober, but I didn't know what they did. You know, I knew they went to these meetings and they had that book. And, you know, they did those things. But, you know, I didn't know. I just thought it was really great that they didn't drink anymore. And this marriage, mmm, it's always something. And after ten years and fear of my life, because violence did enter into the picture, I left.
But during this time, I drank. And I like to say I drank socially. But today I know I did not. I was a periodic. And I would drink during this marriage because I found out when I drank, I didn't care what he did. You know. And we sort of take turns getting drunk. Like, well, who's going to drive home tonight? You know. And I would have my binges and I would have my periodic drunks. And crazy, crazy ladies. I know today I was a lot sicker than he was.
But it was a tragic marriage. We had a son who celebrated his 24th birthday in about, well, the 3rd, Wednesday. And I left that son and it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. And I left that son with his grandmom. Because all I could think was to put as many oceans between me and that man as I could. And I left as I said in fear of my life. And under duress. And I moved to Honolulu. In the meantime, my mother and stepfather had moved out there. He was with one of the local airlines. And I like to say I went to be close to my family. And I know today I ran home to mother with my tail between my legs. You know. And loved it. I had been over there previously on vacation. And I just liked it.
So I ran home to mama and went to work. And I was remarried within a year. I married a very nice man. That kid you just saw walk out of here, that's mine. I'm going to kill her when this is over with. I hope she's got over the allergy. And this is when I started my really heavy drinking. I became a nightly drunk. I was working so I hadn't gotten to the point of drinking during the day time yet. I used to get angry because they didn't serve martinis in the snack bar at three o'clock. But you know that was okay.
[00:10:22]
And I had everything a woman could want. Oh, I had everything good housekeeping magazine told me I shouldn't have. My husband, my second husband, and both of them had standing in the community. I had the fur coat and the diamonds and the whole bit. And I had been told as a young woman, when you get married and have your family and your home, you will be a fulfilled woman. And I got married and I had my home and I had my family. And I thought, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? Something's wrong.
Like I said, I had everything. I just had everything that I was told that a nice southern lady should have. And I was completely, absolutely miserable inside. And the second marriage as I said is when I really got into the heavy drinking. And it began to really hit to me. And I did crazy things. Like I didn't use ice cubes in my drink after dinner because we had an ice maker. And I was afraid my husband would hear me get the ice out of the ice maker and I dared him to say anything to me about my drinking.
And I started out with a little glass about like that with a Manhattan and I graduated to a tub. And it was, oh, let's have one drink before dinner. Well, this tub held about six Manhattans. And that was, you know, I deluded myself thinking it was one drink. And alcohol, it wasn't, I did not consume a lot of alcohol. I couldn't. I'm sure some doctor would have a lot of fun with my metabolism or that or something like that. It's what it did to me that brought me to this program because it made me crazy.
And during this drinking, I still functioned. I had a job. I still functioned within my family. I think my daughter at that time was about two and a half years old. I think she was my control. I had enough sense left to come home from work and make sure that she was fed and bathed and put to bed before I started my heavy drinking. And I would sit up there and I'd get crazier and crazier and crazier. And I wanted to die. I can remember one night thinking, you don't have the guts to commit suicide, so why don't you just drink yourself to death?
Because at that time I didn't know what a horrible death, an alcoholic death, was. And I would go to bed at night thinking, oh God, please don't let me wake up in the morning. And I'd wake up and I'd think, well, here's another day. It was just, life was nothing. I existed. And of course the marriage was, it just wasn't a marriage. And then I thought, well, have you ever planned your own funeral? I did. I planned my own funeral. And I'd see all these people standing around this open grave. And you'll pretty soon nobody showed up.
That's pretty soon. Nobody showed up. And I thought, well, I'll die a martyr's death. I'll save some child from the wheels of an automobile and I'll get killed and they'll say, oh, wasn't she a nice person? You know, oh, Jesus. Sick. But I know today I wanted somebody to care. I wanted somebody to care. And nobody cared and I didn't care. I got where I didn't care what happened to me. And it just didn't work. And my mother, who was a sower alcoholic, would say, you're drinking too much. And I'd say, no I'm not. And I got cagey. I think we alcoholics are.
And I got cagey. I think we alcoholics get cagey and cunning and baffling.
[00:15:03]
And I would make sure that every night when I got home, I would call her at 5 o'clock before I started drinking. Because I knew she wouldn't call me back unless there was an emergency. And then I could sit here and drink. Because I didn't want her to know how much I was drinking. Because she was going to say something to me. And I glamorized my drinking. You know, I used to think it was a black lace cocktail dress with a long dangling earring from a, we call them in Hawaii, lanai.
I think they call them porches over here. With a long stemmed glass, you know, out there at sunset. And with a pair of dirty green shorts in the kitchen. Now that's the truth. And I know you ladies can identify with this. I had one of those quilted bathrobes with all the little things broke on them. You know, they were sticking out all over. What it was like was miserable. That's what it was like. It was pure pain and misery.
Everything dirty, nasty, unhappy that has happened in my life has been a result of hangin' alcohol. Either directly or indirectly in my life. What happened? September the 10th, 1970, I locked my husband out of the house. I had to get a screwdriver to undo the chain to finally let him in. I was so drunk I couldn't take the sliding chain off. He walked in the front door and I scraped dinner down the disposal.
I'll show him. I just won't give him any dinner. I grabbed that little girl out of her bed. I remember that part. And the next thing I remember, I'm on the intercom at my mother's apartment house. And she answered about 9 o'clock in the evening. And I said, oh God, please help me. And she let me in. And she took one look at me. And she had enough love and enough wisdom to turn away from me and go to the telephone and call another member of Alcoholics Amendment.
Thank God she did. Because I do not think I could have accepted the program from her. We were too close. And that's what got me here. The next morning, I get up very shaky. Oh, very shaky. Contributing my shake, not to alcohol, to having left my husband. I went to the apartment. I got my clothes and I went to work with this lady that 12-stepped me. Her name was Thelma. And I like to say Thelma 12-stepped me to say Thelma 12-stepped me.
And Thelma said she really listened to me cry. That's about what happened that night. But we did make arrangements to go to a meeting the next night. So I get up and go to work and fake it, you know, with not enough sleep and tremendous hangover. And I come home that night and I look at my mother and I said, I really don't think I want to go to that meeting tonight. I'm tired. And she says, you know what that broad said?
She says, if you don't want to go to that meeting tonight, you don't want to stay sober. And she made me mad. Oh, she made me so mad. And I thought, well, if she thinks I'm an alcoholic, I'll be an alcoholic. Because once again, all my life I've been a people preacher. And I was right back there in the same thing. I'm a preacher. I'll go. She says I'm one, okay, I'll be one. Because I didn't know what I was.
I really didn't. I didn't know what I was. So I went to the meeting that night. And I walked in that room. It was in Honolulu, Hawaii, on a Friday night. And we saw Aloha groups. And, of course, in Hawaii, Aloha can mean just about anything you want it to. We like to think it means love. And the room was an L-shaped table. And at the front of this L, where the speaker was, there was a sign. And that sign had two words on it, we care.
And I thought, oh, God, somebody finally cares. Somebody beside my mother cares what happens to me.
[00:20:03]
And they allowed me to come in. And they welcomed me again. So that's how I got here. What is it like now you haven't got enough time? John says I've only got an hour. It's fantastic. But it hasn't been all good. I came into the program, like I said, because my mother told me now that I was no longer going to be one. And I sat there in the meeting, and I listened. And I said, well, I didn't drink like that.
And I didn't do those things. But then I started to listen. And I heard how you felt when you drank. And I could identify with that. And they told me to go to meetings and to read the big book. They didn't tell me how many times to read it, so I read it once, you know. Read the big book, fine, I read the big book. And I kept it on the coffee table with the jacket turned with big Alcoholics Anonymous on the outside, and I kept it dusted so I'd impress people when they walked in.
And they told me to get a sponsor, to get a woman sponsor. They said men sponsor men and women sponsor women. And I was not about to get a woman sponsor, because I hated women. Women scared me, and I wasn't about to let any woman get close to me, because that woman was going to be able to see right through me, and she was going to tell it like it was, and I didn't want to have a part of it. Like I said, my God has a sense of humor.
And at this time, I was going to meetings. That's all I was doing. And I was walking around with a big smile on my face, and people would say, Jackie, how are you? And I'd say, oh, I'm fine, thank you. And my insides were going like this, and I was scared to death, and I didn't know what to do. I was too scared to ask questions. But I was fine. Fine, thank you. Everything's just fine. Everything's good.
And I was working for a hospital at the time, in the personnel department, and they had opened a halfway house for women. And they hired this manager who was in AA. Now, they had told me to get a sponsor, and a woman sponsor. Well, I got a sponsor. I got a duty. I was a retired gunnery sergeant in the Marine Corps. How's that grab you? And, oh, I used to just hate her. I would go home at night and think, now what does that broad think she is talking to me like that for?
And then wake up the next morning and say, no, she lied. And I learned to love her, really dearly. And she saved my life. I think God put her in my path to save my life because she put me to work. And she was about the only woman I was close to. And I left my hospital, and I got involved in AA. They told me to get involved. I said, okay, I'll get involved. I was about six months sober, and this guy comes up to me.
He says, you're secretary at this meeting now. Pick up the key next week. He said not to. So that's how I got involved in service. And they told me love and service. And I got involved in intergroup, and from intergroup to the area, and right on up. And I loved every minute of it because it kept me sober. And I became a traditionalist. And they called me a Bible-flipping traditionalist. Why? I said, well, I'll tell you why.
I believe in the traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous because I've got a 13-year-old daughter that if she ever, ever has to walk into the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous, I want her to find the same thing I found, and the only way she'll do it is through the traditions of this program. I believe that. Because I found the same thing my mother did, and it was through these traditions. So I left the hospital, and I had a couple of jobs.
And once again, still not liking women. God rang my phone one night through the manager of this halfway house. And he says, Jackie, I want you to come work for me. And I went to work in a women's halfway house. You know, ew.
[00:25:00]
And I probably got more out of that job and personal growth than any of those residents ever did because there were some very, very strong, beautiful AA women working there. And they told it like it was, and they loved me. And they made me work. And I was about three years sober at this time. And this one gal, her name was Noah. I'll never forget her. She was a staff member. And I was hurting, you know, and ranting and raving and screaming and doing all those good things.
She says, what step are you on? And I just love people that do that. You know, what step are you working? And I went, turn it over. There's two shell packs. And I says, well, I don't know. I guess that's the first slip. Well, I don't know how in the hell you've ever stayed sober. And you know, it scared me. I thought, I don't either. I guess I've stayed sober by the seat of my pants. I just don't know.
And this is when I started working and doing what you people were trying to tell me to do. The steps. And until I started working the steps of this fantastic program, nothing happened to me. And then it all started to happen, and it's been good. And this is so much a part of my story. I've sort of left it out at times, but it is a part, and I want to share it with you. This beautiful mother of mine had cancer.
And she died in 1974. And she was ill for about six months, extremely ill. God came into my life at that time, and he gave me a peace and serenity and happiness that I've never known could exist. He gave me the strength to wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning sober to give my mother a hypodermic. He gave me strength to drop her ashes in the Pacific Ocean and walk away with, I gave it my best shot. I didn't have to walk away with guilt or remorse.
People would come up to me during this period and say, How's mother? I said, Yeah. What more can you say? And they said, But you look good. And I said, I am. God's with me, and I believe that. And he was, because it was a sad, sad part of my life, but it was a happy part of my life inside. Because I always thought, When I marry this man, I'll be happy. When I divorce this man, I'll be happy. When I move to San Francisco, I'll be happy.
And when I move back to Fairhope, I'll be happy. And it took me a long time to find out that happiness is an inside job, and I found that in this program. Today, I'm a happy lady. I don't have any problems. The way God wants them to, I guess. And it's fantastic. You know, it's so hard. I talk a lot, but I don't say much. And sometimes it's extremely hard to say what's inside. I came into this program, and you told me to be grateful.
And I said, For what? And I was never grateful for anything in my life. I deserved it. And my sponsor said, You just better be darn glad you don't get all you deserve. And I've learned what gratitude is. And it was a hard lesson. It took me two surgeries of just about the same thing. One of those, you know, you go in, you don't know how you're going to come out or if you're going to come out. And the last one I had was, I was about six, seven years sober, and they had me on the oncology ward.
And I wasn't going into surgery until quite late in the day, and I would see them wheel these people down. I would feed and wheel these people down, and not bring them back.
[00:30:01]
And when I woke up, everything was fine, and then I'd feed and bring these people in about seven or eight o'clock that night, and I thought, yeah, you know what they've been through. And here I am. And I started crying. And I started crying out of gratitude, because my God has given me three chances. He's brought me to the halls of Alcoholics Anonymous, and he's, uh, I passed me twice on cancer. And this is when I learned gratitude.
This is when I became willing to trudge this road of happy destiny. I never wanted to do it. I wanted to climb mountains, swim oceans, write novels, do all that good stuff. I didn't want to just get up, go to work, come home, do all those mundane things like make up beds. Because, see, I always thought life was a Ginger Rogers movie. You know, I could come swishing out of the bedroom in the morning with this gorgeous pinwhile on, and the roses, and the whole bit.
And nobody told me I had to cook it. I lived in a dream world. And that I was going to be able to do all these things. And yet I knew I couldn't. I don't know if that makes sense or not. But it was always, well, someday I can do this stuff. And he told me one day at a time. And I could buy that, because I had always lived in the land of if only and yes, but tomorrow. And I could buy one day at a time.
Now, this God of my understanding was something else. I had a conflict between my loving merciful God that I was raised in, with in religion, and my grandmother's hard-shelled Southern Baptist religion. And I just couldn't figure out what church God belonged to. So it's kind of confusing. And I found out he doesn't belong to any of them. He belongs in him. Whether you want to call him he, or sometimes I call her she.
Little liberated man. And I talked to him just like I would one of you. And I have shook my fist at him. You know, why me, God? And they told me, why not? You know, why not? Who are you? And I can apply for the good and the bad, too. And I allowed people to love me. This is extremely hard for me to do. I had a high brick wall, like all of us do, built around me, that nobody was going to come into my life and foul up my life.
You know, I'd done such a beautiful job of it, I ended up in AA. But, you know, nobody was going to ever get close to me, and no one was ever going to make me cry again. I cried, but there were alligator tears to get what I wanted, or to impress somebody. I think one of the best things that happened to me in AA, and I was about three years sober, was to cry. Just to sit down and cry from here. And I can cry.
I even cry when they play the national anthem, you know, today. I cry a lot. And I laugh a lot, because I'm happy. My first, like I said, my marriages were sad. My first one was just tragic. Today, I know he's a very ill man. And someday, hopefully, he'll find the same thing that we found here. Her second husband, very nice man. And we have a good relationship. My daughter, she came back. I tell her I bring her with me to keep me honest, you know.
She served me so much, I don't blame her for walking out. We have a relationship today that's just absolutely fantastic. You know, we're honest with each other. She, as she got older, she got involved in what Little Allergy there was in Honolulu. And I think that did her good, too. It did me good. When the chips are down, this program works.
[00:35:00]
Because it's happened to me, and I'm sure it's happened to all of you. You know, and I saw John and Dorothy in New Orleans. And he says, you know, we're not afraid to talk about God in Florida. And I said, good, because I wouldn't be here without my God. You know, I drove the boat for so long. And I made so many waves. And I had so many holes in the boat. I'm surprised I didn't sink. So I'm a survivor.
I survived out there to get to these doors. I like to say my drinking career is about as exciting as watching paint dry. And, you know, there's just not much to it. I just sat and I drank. And I don't worry about that anymore, why I drank. Because when you people, when I came in here, like I said, you know, I thought, well, I didn't do that, and I didn't drink that much and all that. You didn't tell me I had to.
The only thing you told me was I had to have a desire to stop drinking. You didn't tell me how long I had to drink, how much I had to drink, or what I had to drink. You said all I had to have was a desire, and not even an honest desire, just a desire to stop drinking. Thank God for you people. I don't know 99 and 99 percent of you. But, you know, it's okay. I had several people come up to me before the meeting started.
I guess they saw me shaking over there. And they said, we love you. I could have never allowed anybody to say that to me before. I love you, too. And you know the thing about it is today, I love women. I really, really do. I learned to stick with the women winners in this program. And they got me here. And God loves you. It's hard. See, I was raised with, you know, love women. And very careful about what men you do love.
It's sort of a hands-off situation, so I didn't have too much around. But I learned to love you women. And it's hard for a woman coming to this program, because we're raised as ladies. And nice southern ladies don't do those things. Let me tell you, they do, and it's okay. Like I said, I wanted to die, and I couldn't. And today, I want to live. I don't want to exist anymore, and I don't have to. It works.
And they told me if it works, don't fix it. So I'm not going to fix it. I've got a lot in my heart tonight. I wish my mother was here. I think she'd be as grateful as I am. But she is. She's probably looking down and saying, well, what did you say that for? She was a killer. So much has happened in these almost 10 years since I've been in this program. It took going back and doing over everything that I've done in my life to get me where I am today.
I'm glad to do it. I don't want to. You told me when I came in here to turn my life and my will over to the God of my understanding. Now, you know, my church tried to teach me that an awful long time, and I didn't understand what they were talking about. And I thought, well, now, if I turn my life and my will over to this Christ they're talking about, this guy might want me to be a missionary in Africa, and I don't want to go to Africa.
I was too busy playing bridge and going to cocktail parties and doing all that good stuff. And it took this program to teach me this. And I'm an avid reader. And I've always thought all my life, you know, one of these days I'm going to read a book
[00:40:02]
that's going to tell me what this schmear is all about. And I found it. It's called Alcoholics Anonymous, and it's blue. And it works. There's not a time that I don't have a problem that I can't go to that big book and open it. Take any page in there and there's an answer. I've tried it and it works. Today, I don't have to look in the mirror and see a blob. Today, I don't have to have another drink to put my makeup on.
Today, I don't have to have a drink to walk in that door and face you people. Today, I have the dignity and the respect of being a woman, and I love it. I had heard a woman at a meeting one day say, I am my own woman. And I thought, oh, that's what I want. That's just what I want. And I went up to her and I asked her, I said, Mary, what do you mean by being your own woman? She says, I live a lifestyle that's acceptable to me today.
And I can truly stand here and say I am my own woman, and I love it. And it took me a long time to learn that I was a woman. And I learned it all by myself through this program. And to have the dignity of being a woman, it's fantastic. And you ladies know what I'm talking about. I'm sure you do. Thank you for being here. I've heard a lot of people say, they thank Alcoholics Anonymous. I can't. I have to thank God, because I think Alcoholics Anonymous is God-inspired.
And I think God works through people. And I think he put you here just like he put me here for some reason. So I thank God for your being here. Because if you weren't here, I wouldn't be here. And I don't want to be here. I like what this program has given me these few days. And I like you. And I like myself. And I think that's neat. I didn't like myself a long time. But I can look in the mirror and like what I see today.
And I can stand up and be counted as a human being. And I can walk down the street with my head held high because I have the dignity and the self-respect that I had lost. And for that, I'm grateful. I'm speechless. My heart is full. And I thank you for allowing me to be here. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.