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Source: DICOBE-00564 – John C – 9TH GROUP – 1981-01-24.mp3 File: dicobe-00564-john-c-9th-group-1981-01-24.mp3 Duration: 01:04:12
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Thank you very much, Dick. My name is John C., and I'm an alcoholic. I'm by following the teachings and the philosophy of the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, as I interpret it, assistance from a power greater than myself that I prefer to call God, as I understand him, much help from folks just like you, and some effort upon my part, and of course, the manpower from God. When I arrived in town yesterday, a young fellow struck up a conversation with me, and before we finished, he said, have you ever been here before? And I said, no. He said, well, tell me, don't you get nervous when you're talking to people that you have never seen before? And just before we started to have that beautiful grazing that we finished here, that eating, another young fellow said, John, what time are you going to talk? And I said, I don't know. He said, well, are you nervous? Now, I assure you folks that I'm not a bit nervous, because I know pretty well what I'm going to say while you folks out there, most of you haven't got the slightest idea what you're going to hear.
And if there's anybody has any reason to be nervous, it's you, not me. Your presence here tonight is a true indication of your loyalty to the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous. And I would like to make a couple of observations before I make any comments at all. One is that whatever that I may say is my own opinion, and I don't speak for Alcoholics Anonymous as a whole. No one's qualified to do that. And whatever that I may say is the result of what I've heard someone else say, or what I've read, or if I've taken the time to study something about the program, and then put in my own words. So please don't expect any sermon of appeasement from me, or any attempt upon my part to tell anybody here what to do. And the other thing is that I'm not using this podium to become a suedo comedian, and neither do I look at Alcoholics Anonymous as a vaudeville circuit either. This is something which saved my life, and which I take most seriously. I know that this gathering could not be possible without the cooperation of some non-alcoholics, and I know that you are here tonight. And that's the Al-Anons, and I have never visited any conference or convention without paying my respects to Al-Anon. For nine years I wanted no part of you. I didn't have anybody in Al-Anon, and it was all right for you to bring the sandwiches and the coffee, but get over there and sit down and keep quiet. But I've come to learn to love and to respect Al-Anon, and I think that the most suitable way for me to pay my respects to you is in the words of our co-sponsor and founder, Bill Wilson. And this is what he said to you when you gathered in New York in conjunction with your Canadian brothers and sisters when you first was trying to see whether you could get off the ground. This is what Bill said to you. Al-Anon, in my opinion, is the biggest thing that has happened since Alcoholics Anonymous was started. And the reason for your phenomenal growth is due to your determination to fill
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that vast vacuum of family relationship. And family relationship, as we all realize, is the most important because it's the most deformed. Those are the words of Bill Wilson. And I always add the words of my own. I always say, blessed be the alcoholic who has a good Al-Anon mate to come home to. Some of us were not that fortunate. Now, by these few kind words, I don't want you gals to think that you've got me snowed because you haven't. I know that you've used some pretty harsh words and pretty harsh measures yourself trying to get that clown straighten around. And I would like to tell you a true story that happened to two of my dearest friends in Brownwood, Lance and Chris. And it is as true as I stand behind this podium tonight.
Lance weighed about 220 pounds. He was a very fine athlete and was at Vanderbilt University a couple of years before me. I never knew him then. I didn't know him until I came to Brownwood. And Christine weighed about a hundred pounds with a wet pea coat on. And Lance got hooked on this booze. And he'd come home about every day, every night, half fractured, completely so. And little Chris had got just about all that she could stand.
So this afternoon, big Lance comes walking in and the spat starts in the kitchen when he came out out of that carport. The spat continued into the living room and little Chris has given it to him in pretty good shape. And Lance decides he's not going to stand anymore of that abuse. So he decides to commit suicide. And he didn't say a word. He went at the bathroom, filled the tub with water, turned on the gas and got in the tub. Little Chris is sitting out in the living room and of course she became curious and she went to the bathroom door and tried it, locked. And she said, Lance, what are you doing in there? Lance says, I'm committing suicide.
I've got the gas turned on. Little Chris says, well, put some towels around the bottom of the door. It's making the cat sick. Little Chris had just about had it. If ever there was a man who came to scar but remained a prey, you're looking at him tonight. I wanted no part of Alcoholics Anonymous and I wanted no part of anyone in it either. And the reason that I didn't want any part of anybody in it or any part of Alcoholics Anonymous was because I refused to find out what it was. As I mentioned last night, Herbert Spencer once said that there was a certain principle which was a bar to all information and proof against any argument that may leave a man in everlasting ignorance and that principle is contempt before investigation. And I'm a concrete example of that. What could a bricklayer, a tilesetter, a carpenter, a salesman tell me how I could change my lifestyle?
A fellow who'd practiced law for 21 years and a senior member of his own firm. Don't bother me. I'm too good for you people. So I continued to drink. Abraham Lincoln once said that all men are created equal. I don't have to subscribe to that. Sometimes I think it's misunderstood. If you think so, you ought to stand that physical in that Marine Corps and find out. No, some men are born rich and some poor and some weak and some strong.
And if we are honest with ourselves, and I am not in any way referring to any civil rights at all, but if we are honest with ourselves, we're not equal socially either. But we are all born equal in one thing and that is that we have one life and with that life we can
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do as we see fit. We can either invest it or we can squander it. And I'm not proud to stand here and tell you that I squandered some of the most lucrative and productive years of my life because of my inability to control alcohol. I could go into some of my experiences as a professional athlete. I was one of two legitimate students back in 1925 to 1930. This is long before many of you were born. A fellow by the name of Armand Emanuel, a heavyweight on the coast, and myself.
We're the only two legitimate college students earning an education as a professional fighter. Some of my friends think I stayed in there too long. There was. I could tell you some of those experiences. I could tell you some of the experiences that I encountered as a trial lawyer, as a criminal lawyer, for 21 years. Or I could give you some of my experiences as a combat marine in World War II, not the Spanish-American World War II.
But it wasn't because that I was so patriotic. I must level with you tonight. When you get up behind here, you better lay it out truthfully. It wasn't my patriotism that brought me into the United States Marine Corps. I went on a weekend party up in Augusta, Maine, and among that group, there was a recruiting officer named Jerry Williams. And the next thing I recalled was that he was teaching me the manual of arms with a broom.
And the next Monday morning, I read in the paper where this local sportsman and attorney had enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. And I guarantee you folks, I looked for that bum for five years after I got out, too. Or I could talk to you as a present-day businessman, but that's not why I'm here. I'm here for the sole purpose of trying to say something that someone may identify with sufficiently enough to start them on a life without booze.
And I'm no crusader, and I'm no reformer. I like a chihuahua dog so long as he acts like one. When he acts like a bulldog, to hell with him. I don't have to put up with him, and I'm not going. But the damnable part of this illness called alcoholism is that we become thieves, thieves of the worst kind. I stole from those that I loved the most their right to happiness. I don't know about you, but that was me.
And the reason that I could not control alcohol, one of the reasons besides the great discoveries that our body chemistry cannot assimilate alcohol any more than the body chemistry of a diabetic can assimilate sugar, but one of the greatest contributing factors was my ego. I dripped with it. All I could see were those two degrees and how brilliant that I was. And I wanted people to tell me, too. You know the best definition of ego?
It's the best anesthetic to help lessen the pain of stupidity. Now, anything that is good is subject to criticism. Our churches are criticized. Doctors are criticized. Preachers, priests are criticized. There are many times criticism is the lot of our fellowship, too. But after all, Columbus was criticized. Galileo was nearly put to death for his astronomical views. And they said that the Wright brothers never would fly, that the air was reserved for the birds.
Now, I don't know anything about this fellow Columbus other than what I studied in school. But by gary he had, I don't know whether he was an alcoholic or not, but he had the traits of one. But he had the traits of one. He didn't know where he was going when he left home, he didn't know where he was when he got there, and when he got back he didn't know where the hell he'd been, the woman paid for the whole trip.
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I remember reading the story of Jack Alexander in the Saturday Evening Post, or I should say I started to read the story, but Alexander was not talking about the senior member of a law firm, he wasn't talking about a man who had held many positions of trust, including being a special assistant, and there were only 26 of us in the country at that time, a special assistant to the United States Attorney General in the Criminal Division of the Department of Justice.
He wasn't talking about a man who had been for two years the personal political representative of the Vice President of the United States the last two years that he was in Washington. He was talking about the fellas in the mission houses and the sally spots and the guys down on the road and the fellas hitting the brake and hitting the grit as we used to say, sleeping anywhere. So I wasn't, he wasn't talking about me, so I tossed it one side. Didn't even finish reading the story and kept on drinking for ten more years.
And ladies and gentlemen, I wound up seeking succor and maintenance from exactly the same places that Jack Alexander was writing about. And I know what it is to seek succor and maintenance from the Salvation Army and the mission houses. I know what it is to hit the grit and I know what it is to be relegated to the sneaky Pete and Sweet Lucy and Smoke and Mad Dog and Bayhouse, because I lived on it for six and a half years under an assumed name. Nobody knew where I was.
So don't think because I stand here tonight dressed up, because I've mentioned that I have two degrees, that I am anything other than a drunk who has found a way to stay sober through the teachings and the philosophy of a deal called Alcoholics Anonymous. When I came into this fellowship, I came in under two circumstances. One, I thought I was arrested. When I found out I wasn't, and I was told I was going up to the AA club, I came in to make a touch to get enough for a bottle of sneaky Pete.
That's how I came in. And as I said last night, you don't have to be a baby to cry. When I walked out of Augusta, Maine, I left a beautiful wife and mother and a little boy. And six and a half years later when I went back, I got there about four days before Polly was divorcing me, October 13th, 1951. I came into this deal October 28th, 1951. And I stood in that courtroom where I had tried many and many a major case, once a highly respected attorney. I stood there in a pair of shoes that I could step on and chew a gum and tell you what flavor it was.
My neck opened long before it was the style, needing a shave and I'm shaking, not from fear of the court, but I didn't have a drink of wine that morning and I was shaking. And I had asked an acquaintance, another lawyer, if he would try to get me custody of Johnny 30 days out of the year. I don't know why that I would ask such a thing, but I did. And in that very same courtroom where I had practiced for 21 years, I heard that judge say, no, he is neither physically nor mentally capable of having custody of his son 30 minutes to say anything of 30 days.
And I'm going to tell you that's one hell of a way to come to the full realization that you have finally hit the end of the line in your profession.
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So I walked again and I'm walking along the street in Portland, Maine. Yeah, I come from Maine. I'm not a Texan. I've been out there 29 years, but I still can't get that lingo, you know, I'm fixin' to leave and over yonder. I reckon so. It took him 15 years to get a pair of big boots on me and a hat and they haven't got me on a horse yet. So I come from Maine, originally. Well, I was walking along the street in Portland, Maine, and this fellow, I don't know where he came from.
He came up to me and he extended his hand to me and he said, hello, Johnny, how are you? Where are you going? And I thought immediately that he was the fuzz. Oh, excuse me, the police. I've been grabbed many times in the six and a half years. And when he asked me where I was going, I was honest with him. I said, I don't know. And I didn't know and I cared less. And he said, come on with me. There's a bunch of guys that know you and they'd love to see you.
Now I figured, oh, the only place anybody knew me was in that can when I'd do 10 or 20, sometimes 30 days. Nobody wanted to see me. But I went with the guy and we get in an elevator. We don't go toward the lockup. We go to the end of an elevator in a building and I'm the first one to speak. And I said, where are we going? And he said, up to the AA club, John. And I said to myself, oh, great. I'll grab one of those suckers for enough to get a drink.
That's how I came into this deal. Yeah. Now I'm greeted royally. I'm greeted like you people greet others here. But they're not coming up with anything. They're giving me conversation. And right at that stage of the game, I'm not interested in conversation. So there's only one thing for me to do, and that's to put the act on. So out comes the handkerchief and I start shaking. And one of the guys noticed me and said, would you like something to drink, John? And I said, you bet.
Because I spotted this bar. It was a crescent shaped thing up in the corner. I didn't see the damn coffee pot on it anyway. But I saw this crescent thing and I figured, well, this is an alcoholic synonymous deal. They've got to have a drink in here anyway. So I walk right up to that bar. And so help my God, I never have drank so much coffee before or since. Now, I don't remember anything of that meeting that night.
But a guy says, Johnny, I'm going to Texas in the morning. I'd love to have your ride with me. And I said, I don't have a dime. I'm completely battered out. He says, that's all right. I want somebody to ride with me. Come on. Now, when I was representing the vice president a few years before, I rode to Texas in style. I flew. This time I rode from Portland, Maine to Dallas, Texas in a panel truck, sitting on an orange crate for a seat with a blanket in the back of that thing.
And I'm cold turkeying, wine and Bay Husk, anything I could get hold of. And for some reason or another, this fella's name was Johnny McIntosh. And he said that he'd been sober two years. That's what the boys told me up there in this club. Of course, I didn't believe it. Nobody stayed sober that long. And for some reason, I don't know what he was coming to Texas, down to Dallas to work in an airplane plant for.
He was a longshoreman. All his life he'd been a longshoreman. And he'd come over those mountains of Tennessee, long before the blacktop.
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And I'm sitting in there, and I'm bouncing, and I'm laying on the back of that thing, and I'm dying. By God, I don't say this to be comical. It wasn't funny then. It is now. And somewhere along the line, somebody hit McIntosh down on the docks, hit him a smash right in the nose with one of these baleen pins, and it spread his nose. And as a result, he had an impediment. Now, I'm not casting any aspersions on anyone with an impediment. Don't misunderstand me.
But Johnny would talk like this. Now, I'm beginning, this is the third day out, and I'm beginning to see faces in the clouds. And every so often, I'd see those hairs start coming out of my fingers. I can see them now. But they're coming out the end. And I looked in the stream running along beside the road, and I said, My God, John, there's blood running down the stream. He said, No, no, no. He said, That's the reflection of the thumb on the red clay.
I said, Look, Johnny, I'm going to die. Now, I'd heard about all this sweetness and light, that meeting up there, and these guys giving me that treatment, and how lovely and how great everybody was in AA. Oh, yeah. Well, I'll show you how great AA was to me. Well, I come in. I said to Johnny, I'm going to die, Johnny. I've got to have a drink. I've got to have a drink. That old pump is banging. I can hear it.
You know, skipper beats every so often. I said, I'm going to die, Johnny. And what do you think that sweet AA that had been sober two years said to me? You're going to die, huh? Well, go ahead and die. What the hell good are you? You're no good to yourself or anybody else. I don't see anybody laying along the side of the road here. If you's croak, I'll drop you's off at the next town, Shannon. Well, he did stop at a grocery store.
One of those old tilting hiltons, a roof, you know. Falling in, wood colored, and he come out with a quarter of that ice cold milk. Oh, wasn't that beautiful? And I grabbed that milk and downed it without, you know, just downed it. And it was wonderful, but my God, when that come up, you could have shot pool with it, you know. Bump, you know, boom. Now, if you think I am going to come over to your place if you telephone me, and you tell me that you're sick, I'll come.
But if you're sitting there with a fifth or a cannon, as I call it, about two-thirds gone. The wife's gone, the kids have gone, he's there by himself, and he wants to tell me what a hell of a fine guy I am and how smart he is. And then hits me with that, John, you don't mind if I have a drink, do you? I'm awful sick. Sick? Good Christ, they don't know what being sick is. I'll see you later, Charlie. I'm not going to waste my time with you.
I'll go to hell and back again with you. If you want to quit, you bet. But if you don't want to quit, you can go to hell alone. It's none of my business, and I'm not going to bother you. Not a bit. And you're going to say, oh, he hasn't got much tolerance, has he? Twenty-nine years, and if you think that, you're 100% correct. I haven't. I'll give you a case in point. There's one of these salesmen selling these vacuum cleaners.
One of these salesmen selling these vacuum cleaners in Dallas, and he had a good racket going, and he'd open that paper and see why there was a new home being opened, and he'd be there.
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He was peddling those vacuum cleaners for good, and they were good. Well, he hit this house this particular morning, and this very fine lady met him at the door, and he started his pitch. And he said, no. She said, no, I'm not ready. I'm not ready. He said, well, could I step in the hallway? And, of course, she'd be in the hallway, and he's still giving her the pitch. And she's still saying, no, I'm not ready.
And he's still giving the pitch, and they wind up in this magnificent living room, that carpet ankle deep. And he's losing the battle. She's saying, I'm not ready. But he had an ace in the hole, and he reached in his pocket, and he had a handful of dry husk manure, and he threw it right in the middle. My God, the woman liked he had a conniption fit. He said, don't you worry, madam. If this machine don't pick up every bit of that, I'll eat it.
And with that, she started for the kitchen. He said, just a minute, where are you going? She says, to get the salt and pepper, because this house hasn't been wired for electricity yet. That's why sometimes that I haven't been wired with that kind of tolerance yet. But we got into Dallas some seven days later. We got out of that truck, and Johnny goes directly to a cop. Now that's something else. And I got to be, I'm going to level with you.
Johnny goes straight to this cop. And I thought, oh, God, come in here, clear the cross country, and we're grabbed again. Now I've heard some of you guys say, oh, you know, before I came into AA, I never liked cops. But since I've joined AA, I've learned to love them. Well, I got some news for you. If anybody is here who's an officer of the war and a member of our group or our fellowship, you bet I'm for you.
You bet. But if you're not, I've got to be in AA a hell of a lot longer than 29 years before I learn to love you, and I'll tell you that. Well, that day we went to a meeting. And when it was over, the chairman came just as straight as could be, and he extended that hand of kindness and consideration that was extended to me 2,600 miles away. And I don't care. Now, if I say something, you step on anybody's toes.
I don't do it maliciously. Please understand that. Not that I particularly give a damn what I'm doing. I mean, you don't. I'm going out of town early in the morning. I know Dick can cover me up enough for that. But I don't do this maliciously at all. I don't care when anybody comes into your group, large or small. And I don't care whether they come in here thinking it's a lonely hearts club, an employment agency, or they come in to make a touch like I did.
If he or she's got an alcoholic problem, I beg of you, for God's sakes, extend that hand of kindness and consideration that was extended to me nearly over 29 years ago. That is Alcoholics Anonymous. Kindness and consideration. God love, unity, compassion, and understanding. That's what Alcoholics Anonymous is. How you do it, that's none of my business. I'll try in every way that I can to explain to you.
But if you find a way to stay sober, don't you let anybody change it. If something works, why fix it? The most important person that's in this room tonight is the youngest member, along with the others with their 20 and 10s and 30 days, because they're the ones that's going to carry this deal on. You bet. Well, I had to sleep somewhere. Following that meeting, we went down.
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They were moving to Cader's Street in Dallas. And I'm still weak, and I'm sick. But I figured I've got to con my way in here somewhere, because for 21 years, you know, as a trial criminal lawyer, I was pretty good at taking your eye out and telling you that you look better without it. I hope some of these lawyers are here tonight. So I had to con my way in to a place to sleep, and I did. And they gave me the job of janitor.
Well, you know what? In spite of the condition that I was in, devoid of faith, devoid of confidence, devoid of hope, they were good enough to give me the job as janitor, which, mopping floors and washing dishes for the privilege of sleeping upstairs. I resented the fact that they referred to me as a janitor. I preferred to be known as a custodian. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Still the wheel. Still the wheel. Well, along with my duties was putting up the bingo table Saturday night.
And the only time that we ate was when they'd bring down the sandwiches and the cake left over from the birthday parties up at the, we called them the nylon set, the silk stocking group, you know, the suburban club. That was the bunch that was talking back there, you see. Alkies, I don't know what the hell difference it was, but anyway, they'd bring these down to the poor unfortunates down by the market.
So we're setting up the bingo and we've got everything set and we can't find the beans. And Karen and I are looking for them and she's saying that she saw them there and I am assuring her that I did too. And it wasn't five and a half years later that I tell Karen Tracy that Jim Lacefield and I cooked them and ate them. We should have seen that performance when we were washing those that they'd been playing with for a month.
So it wasn't easy for me when I came into this deal. But by God, I wanted to stay sober. And it was you people, it was you people who made it possible for me. You know, parties like this we wish could go on and on and on. But it can't. This is but the tip of the iceberg. And it is odd. Some, I don't know why, some guys can come in, stay a little while, go out and they've never taken a drink since. Other guys come in and stay for 20, 25 years, go out and get drunk and die.
I don't know. I know of an individual, and I think some of you do too, but I know this fellow personally who has received all of the accolades that could possibly be given to a human being, all of the degrees, statues even made of him. And when this Missouri River is no longer there or the mountains of our country are no longer standing, his footsteps will be on the moon 10 million years from now. Brilliant, capable, but cannot for the life of him over any extended period understand the basic simplicity of the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous.
It's sad. It's sad. I wish that conferences and parties like this could go on, but they can't. Because AA is out there. And when you go back to work or what the hell ever you do when you leave here, that's where AA is. This is our medicine. Oh yes, a lot of things that I don't agree with, and I know things that you don't agree with me, and I don't expect you to, and that's all right. We can disagree without being disagreeable in this fellowship.
That's one of the most wonderful things about it. I didn't come in this deal to get saved.
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There are men qualified to do that. There are priests, ministers, preachers, anything else, men of the class. They are qualified to do the saving. But I came in this deal to find a different way of life, of hell of which I had been living. And when I leave this group tonight or some other group sober, I come in sober, I leave here sober, where I go and what I do and who I do it with, as long as I do not harm Alcoholics Anonymous as a whole, is none of your business.
And by the same token, where you go and what you do and who you do it with, as long as you don't harm the fellowship of AA, is none of John C.'s business, and he's not going to stick his nose in it either. I don't know where the hell all these water walkers have come from all of a sudden, the last ten, eleven years. Oh, don't you go with that boy. If you do, you'll get drunk. Don't you go with her. If you do, you'll get drunk.
Why don't you come over to my church? You'll like our preacher better than over at yours. Well, that's like saying, which is better, exhale or inhale? And I'm going to tell you, if any of you are here of that being of that mind, I'd like to remind you that it's only six inches from a halo to a noose. There are dangers that hang over our fellowship, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not one of these so-called circuit riders, the reciprocity boys as we call them out in Texas, but I do travel somewhat extensively through the United States and Canada, and I have had an opportunity to observe.
And as true as I stand here, there are dangers that hover over our fellowship. The first danger to any group is placing personalities ahead of AA principles. The second one is complacency. And the third one is some of these intellectual guerrillas that think that they can modify the program of AA. Speaking of that, placing personalities ahead of AA principles, I was speaking in Carl Etherton, Tuller, Tulser, or Joplin, I don't recall which.
And it was before the gathering, there was a platform, something like this, and this very fine lady came up and she said, John, I hope that you will say something about placing personalities ahead of AA principles. And now I learned at an early stage of my profession that whenever that we have a lady for a witness, you better get her on and off that witness stand as gracefully and as quickly as possible because you never know what in hell they're going to say.
So I'm giving a yes and yes and yes, and she's given it to me about this personalities ahead of AA principles. And just at that time, a very attractive lady came down the side and some friends were keeping a seat for her in the front row. And as she came by, she looked up and smiled and bowed, and I smiled and bowed. And as she went on, I give it another look. She had a beautiful set of wheels on her, I'll tell you.
I still can look at them. And evidently this lady noticed it. And she says, John, do you know her? And I said, no, I don't, but she's a very attractive lady, isn't she? I don't, but she's a very attractive lady, isn't she? She says, John, her problem isn't alcohol, her problem is sex.
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Well, I said, I wish to hell that was my problem sometimes. When you come into this fellowship, you don't bless yourself and think you're going to stay sober. There are certain things you're going to do if you're going to stay sober. And one of the things I believe that is most necessary, and that's to stop defying and believing at the same time. I've never seen anybody stay sober yet, trying to believe and defy at the same time.
If you keep God at the steering wheel and stop using Him for a spare tire, you've got a chance. I've heard guys say, oh, I don't know, I'm tempted to reach for a drink. Well, you dummy, keep the AA program in one hand and God in the other, and you've got nothing to reach for a drink with. If it was necessary for Jesus Christ to say, by myself I am nothing, my strength comes from my Father in heaven, how many of us have thought of that this week?
And who am I to think that I can be the judge, jury and executioner of my sick brother or sister? Of course not. I was a great guy, I was always getting even. I'll get even. I know, I remember that bunch up there in New England. I'll get them. Going to get even. Until one of you folks said to me, John, you're always getting even with someone. Did you ever think of getting even with someone who's been kind to you?
It's much easier, and it's much better. Your life and mine is made up of but four things. Nothing more, nothing less. And those four things that our lives are made up of, thoughts, acts, habits and character, and that's our life. Now, if you want to continue to think like a drunk, you're going to act like one. Your habits will follow your acts, and you will continue with the habits of a drunk. Your character follows your habits, and you can go on living the life of a drunk.
That's up to you. But particularly for you Noah members, we can't do it for you. But we damn sure can prove to you, by living proof, that we can show you a way in which you can start thinking like a useful and a decent person. And you will act like one, and your habits will follow your acts, and your character will follow your habits. And once more, as Bill Dodson said in the fellowship of the second chance, you can live the life of a useful and a decent person.
It's that simple. Don't look for things that aren't here. This deal is as simple as ABC. Accept, begin and continue. That don't take any legal giant to understand that. Accept, begin and continue, and hold on to three things. The God of your understanding, the truth about yourself, namely, that you can't take one drink and hold on to your AA friends, and you'll hold on to total abstinence. And that's the name of this game.
Always remember, when you point your finger at somebody, that there are three pointing back at you, and be careful. Well, a few years ago, not a few, there are few to me, my dad was a contractor. And he and the Murphy brothers built the Penobscot Towers in Detroit. And I can remember dad as a youngster, and I can remember him speaking of his architects and his specifications and his laborers and foundation.
And a few twenty-four hours ago, I decided to build myself an imaginary AA building.
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And for my architect, I have the greatest that could possibly be obtained. And that's in the God of my understanding. The specifications for my building are the twelve steps and the twelve traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous. I've got no labor troubles at all, because I've got the hundreds of thousands of people exactly like you here tonight to help me with my building. Now, for my foundation, I can use more water and sand and less cement.
I can use plastic deals instead of the good old-fashioned two-by-fours for the forms if I wanted to, but I don't want that. I want my building to be strong enough to withstand one of those twisters or tornadoes that might hit it in the form of one drink. There's one thing that I do pray for, however, and that is that I never think that my building is tall enough to put a roof on it. Now, I know that this will be over in a very short while, and I don't expect you, and I mean this too, I don't expect you to remember me, but I do hope that you will remember this, that it's not so far from right to wrong, and the trail isn't hard to lose, because I've seen the time that I'd sell my horse to know which one to choose.
Now, there aren't any signs or guideposts up to keep you on the track, because wrong sometimes is white as drifted snow, and right oft times is black. Now, I don't set up to be no judge of right or wrong in men, because I've missed the trail sometimes myself, and maybe I shall again. I've become a great believer in prayer. For six and a half years, I was a complete non-believer. Don't mention God to me, because if there was a God, He wouldn't have allowed the things to happen to me that did, so I sought.
And I had trouble with the spirituality of this program until I was told to take the first letter of these three words, good, orderly, direction, and the fellow said, you'll find God, don't worry about it. Just the first letter of those three words, good, orderly, direction. And he said, it is in AA that you'll get that good, orderly, direction. And you folks have restored to me, you have restored to me my faith, you have restored to me my confidence, and you have restored to me my hopes.
My God, you have been good to me. Now, I don't say this is any melodramatic or tear-jerking thing at all, but things went pretty well for me when I got into the oil business. And I would go back to Maine every summer, and I watched my son grow up, maybe three days a year, four days, but I would go back to see Polly and Johnny. And I mention this to show you that God acts in many mysterious ways. And this particular day, and it was 15 years now since I had entered AA, for 12 years, Polly never believed that I was sincere.
As she said, I'd seen you on your good behavior before. And she didn't believe for 12 years. This is the 15th year and my son has become an outstanding swimmer, and he missed the Olympic team that went to Mexico City by the scantest of margins, and he taught swimming at this little summer resort in Maine from his high school days.
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One afternoon about four o'clock, Polly and I are walking toward the ocean, and she put her arm around my back the first time in 15 years, and I put mine around hers, too, because I figured maybe I could get back there. And all of a sudden she said, Johnny, I haven't, I never believed that you could stay sober. And I didn't believe it for 12 years. It's been 15 now. We said, well, you promised me one thing.
And I said, of course. She said, would you promise me, if anything should happen to me, that you'll take care of Johnny? And, of course, I said, sure, why, certainly. And I came back to Brownwood, and in a couple of days I got a phone call, and it's Johnny, and I asked him what happened, and he said nothing. He said, I'm getting ready to go to college, and I said, that's right, I know that. Where are you going? He had many, many offers of scholarship.
And he said, I haven't accepted any offers yet. He said, I'd like to come out near you. Now, that's to the man who he never knew for 15 years, except maybe three days. And I immediately said, well, what does Mother say? And he said, why don't you ask her? She's right here. And she got on the phone, and I said, well, what is this? And she said, yes, don't you think it's time that your son came to know the man that his mother loved and married?
My God, the next day I'm on that plane again, and I'm up to Maine, and we drove back together. I was in the oil business, and we're out in Arizona, and I'm out drilling 14 miles from Holbrook. And we had to trail a park between Twin Buttes because of the weather. And we could not hardly reach Holbrook 14 miles away with our phone. And we came in this afternoon from the lease, and around 2 o'clock, never had done it before in the world, my partner and I, and I said, we usually stay out there until 5 or maybe later than that.
It all depended. But here it is 2 o'clock in the afternoon. And I said, well, let's leave that horn on. And kiddingly, I said, maybe that thing will come in out there. So we chuckled and went in the trailer. I'm not in that trailer 2 minutes. And that horn started to blow, and I said, sure, I'll get it. And I went out to the car and answered the phone, and it was Johnny, my son, talking to me as clearly as I'm talking to you now.
And I say this as true as I stand behind this podium. As clearly as I'm talking to you, he was talking to me from Belfast, Maine, when we could hardly get Holbrook 14 miles away. And he said, Dad, will you please come home? Mother passed away this noon. And it was you folks, folks exactly like you, who made it possible for me to go back to my native city, stand beside my son at the graveside of his mother, once more a useful and a decent man.
My God, why shouldn't I come to Bellevue or go anywhere else that anyone wants me to come if I can help someone? Yes. And the prayer that I have always, always said since it was given to me by a little Indian in 1956 because it was so apropos to me, I know you're getting a little tired now, and I don't blame you, and I'm going to circle the field and come in. But just pray I'll make it. But this prayer is so apropos to me. A little fella in Navajo tribe gave it to me. We were
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having lunch at the Window Rock Lodge, and we got talking about the spirituality, the AA program, because we were trying to do something there on the reservation at that time, and we didn't get very far, but I understand they're doing pretty well now. And he gave me this. He said, Dad, he said, John, you may not believe this, but our braves are highly spiritual. And my grandfather handed a prayer down to us, and I said, well, what is it?
And as I say, it was so apropos to me, I asked him if I could have it, and he said, of course. And it goes like so. O Great Spirit, I hear your voice in the winds that breathes life into all the world. Hear me. I'm small and I'm weak. I need your strength and your wisdom that you have hidden under every leaf and stone. Let me always walk with beauty and my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset. Make me wise so I will know what you have told my people. Make my hands always respect the things that you have made, and my ears sharp so I will always hear your voice. O Great Spirit, I seek this strength and this wisdom not to be greater than my brother, but to fight my greatest enemy, myself. And when my life is ending like the shadows leaving the sunrise, may my spirit stand straight before you without shame. And I know as Bill, Dr. Bob, my sponsor, Dick Breen, the rest of the gang looked down upon us tonight. As we sit here in this cathedral of the Spirit, Dr. Bob liked to call it the God-given canopy of AA. As we sit here tonight, if we could hear them, they would be saying to Dick and to Peggy and to every single one of that committee that stood up, and to you folks who have come here in the display of your loyalty to the Fellowship of AA, we would hear them say, well done, keep going, don't get discouraged, keep trying to carry the message to that still sick alcoholic. Thank you for making my stay here so wonderful.
And may I say in closing, God bless all of you, and thank God for the creation of those two beloved men, Dr. Bob and Bill Wilson, and that little fellow who found Bill on that November night in 1934, Ebby Thatcher. Thank you, and I love everyone here.