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Source: 1985 Montreal International Convention – Multi Speakers – AA Prisons AA AND PRISONS – RS 06308.mp3 File: 1985-montreal-international-convention-multi-speakers-aa-prisons-aa-and-prisons-rs-06308.mp3 Duration: 01:27:42
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To our workshop. Before we begin with our proceedings and a couple of announcements, would you please join me in a moment of silence in gratitude for AA recoveries over the past 50 years? God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, give me the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Thank you. I have a couple of announcements. Because we may have some friends here who are not familiar with our anonymity tradition, I would like to read it for us.
Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion. We need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, TV, and films. Thus, we respectfully ask that no AA speaker or indeed any AA member be identified by full name or photograph in published or broadcast reports of our meetings. The assurance of anonymity is essential in our effort to help other problem drinkers who may wish to share our recovery program with us.
Our tradition of anonymity reminds us that AA principles come before personalities. Thank you. Now, I also am requested to read the fire law. In accordance with the municipal bylaw, the security service of the Palais de Congrès de Montreal would like to draw your attention to the evacuation procedures for this hall. Staircases marked with the word sortie are located at the end of the corridors outside each conference hall. Thank you.
And finally, on the announcements, there will be tapes of this meeting available at the tape sales booth in the convention center. Okay. It is my privilege and my pleasure to introduce our workshop speakers to you. And first of all, let me present to you Carol L. from British Columbia. Carol? Maybe I'll leave it down there. Hi, I'm Carol, and I'm an alcoholic. I'm scared out of my wits. But it's really great to be here.
It's overwhelming, this convention so far. I'm having a super time, even if my face doesn't look like it. Because I'm scared. If four years ago somebody said to me that you'll be in Montreal at an AA convention with some 50,000 people, I would have thought they were crazy. I would have bet my life on it that I wouldn't be anywhere near AA. And if four years ago somebody had said to me you'll be going into a prison sharing in an AA meeting, I would have for sure thought they were crazy.
And I'm just going to share with you how I came about going in a prison. It was, it just came about, period. I was directed to it, just like I was directed to AA. I didn't, I knew nothing about AA before I came. It wasn't something that I sought out. It wasn't definitely something I wanted to do, and I definitely didn't want to be an alcoholic. And when I came or hit my bottom or whatever it is you do, and you just get where you just can't, you know something's wrong and you don't know what it is, I, through the help of some agencies, got directed to AA, which luckily I didn't realize that's where I was going or I wouldn't have gone.
And when I came in, I was sort of struck dumb, which was good. I was, my mouth got shut, which is unusual. And I, I was petrified. I was probably petrified for my first six, nine months. And I couldn't, I knew I should be there, and I, I, the people I was meeting were positive, great people, but I just wasn't quite fitting in. And I was in a meeting one night at Mountain Highway,
[00:05:00]
and there was a speaker up there, and he was talking about his wife that went into prison. And for some reason, I thought maybe I should go into prison. So I went up and approached, I saw where he went and I approached her, which was unusual because I didn't approach anybody in AA. And I asked her if I could go in with her. And she turned around and she said, why? And I said, I don't know. I, I just don't know.
And so she said, great, meet me at the gate Monday at 6.30. And I went through absolute hell after that. I thought, oh, what did you do that for? Like, what are you going to do in a prison? My God. And that was on a Saturday night. So Monday came along and, of course, I had to spend all day wondering what you wear to a prison. Do you wear your grubbiest jeans or do you dress up? Do you wear your jewelry or don't you wear your jewelry?
And it was awful. And I, I got to the gates and actually I shook worse than I was coming here. I was really scared. And I, when I was drinking, I, for some reason, particularly when I was drunk, I thought I was very tough. I, tough was a good wall for me. I liked tough. I, I felt comfortable behind tough. But I wasn't sure what tough was. But I didn't know street tough. I, I just, I had never really associated with street tough.
But I knew I was tough. And as I walked down from those gates down to the main lakeside correctional center, I was scared. And I wasn't tough. I was candy ass. And I knew they were going to know that when I got in there. And I, I got in the first set of gates and that went off like a gunshot. And Bunny peeled me off the ceiling and we carried through on to the next section. And I got in the meeting and, and the inmates, it, in lakeside we have a, a unit that is where the AA people live.
And it's, it's quite nice. It's not, it's not cell like. It's not bars and things. And this native lady, who at the time I thought was about six foot ten, turns out that she's about my size, sat down beside me. And she said, I like your shoes. And I just about gave them to her. It was really scary. And then she informed me that she was in for 25 years. And I'm not stupid. I know you don't get in 25 years for passing bad checks.
So that was my first meeting in the prison. And I shook through that. But I had a good, I don't know why, I just, I felt better there. I felt I belonged there. I, I just felt better there. And I went the next week. And I started getting to know some of these people. And Shirley, the lady that, the Indian lady that sat down beside me, she just had her four-year cake this March. And she's probably one of the most spiritual people I know in the program.
She's just a, a tremendous person. And I've been going in there probably three years, nearly. And it's a meeting that I just, I just can't really explain to you. It's a closed women's meeting. We share on a different level, it seems, than a closed women's meeting outside. I don't know why. Maybe it's me, maybe it's them. I don't know what it is. But it's, it's one of my best meetings. It's a meeting where I can, where I can be me, I guess.
I don't, I've met people in there that have come out and done well. I've met people in there that have come out and just gone right back to their, their way of life. But it keeps me sober. It's certainly been great for me. I, when I first came in, I heard people say, if you haven't done it, you haven't done it yet. But I knew that if I'd kept drinking, I wouldn't have ended up in Skid Row or any of those places.
I mean, I had a good job and a car and everything. And in sharing with, with people like that, you can, I mean, they're, it's not people like that. They're people like us. They're people that, circumstances were different. They got caught. We didn't. I can remember one night sitting in a meeting, and this girl, Lorraine, she was in for her second manslaughter charge. And she'd come to the meetings and she'd sort of, she wanted to share, you could tell, but she didn't.
She had to sort of just make fun of it and sit back and sort of sneer. But she wanted to be there. And this night, she just let go and she shared and it was, she started talking about coming out of a blackout and realizing that the person that was beside her was dead and not knowing why and ending up being charged with this. And that, as she was talking, I just sort of, it was funny, it was like, no, don't say that, don't tell them.
Because it was like she was talking about me or it was like they were all of a sudden finding out about me and that was always a big fear of mine that I would run somebody off the road, that I would kill them with my car and not know. I used to drive miles, miles and miles in blackouts. I used to drink 50 miles from where I live
[00:10:01]
and come home in the middle of the night, not know how I got there, run off the freeway, have grass in my fenders and bumpers, not know what I might have done with that car. And not even really care. I mean, I cared the next morning for a while, but that passed. But that was a big fear of mine that I would, it was a fear of mine for a short while at a time. And when she was telling that, I realized how easily I could be in there for manslaughter.
I could be in there for murder just from my violent temper. I could be in there for any of the reasons that they're in there for. Just, there's no difference. Circumstances are that they just happened to be in a position that they got into that and we're just lucky that we didn't have to go that far. I met a woman that came out and she'd been drinking 30 years and been on the streets 30 years. She was in her 50s and she came from a very good home.
And she left her kids at a small age and just, I think she was around 55, 56 and she looked about 70. And she changed, the change in her was incredible. Just the years she had in sobriety, it was just, she turned into a beautiful woman and she went back and she saw her kids who had never seen her sober. And unfortunately she had to go back out after that, but at least she had that year. And that too made me see that I didn't have to do that.
I didn't have to lose my family completely and I didn't have to lose my self-respect and my job and I had all these things that I was allowed to keep. And as long as I keep doing the things that we're supposed to do, I guess I will still be allowed to keep them, hopefully. If anybody is even just considering going into a prison, don't let your fear of going stop you because it's just another meeting and these are just more people like ourselves, they're just drunks that unfortunately are stuck somewhere where they can't get to meetings like we can.
I think we have 400 and some odd meetings on the lower mainland that we can go to. And in the lakeside anyway, they only have three a week that they can go to if we go in. So hopefully we continue to go in, but if they don't like the meeting, they can't go to the one up the street or across the way, they have to go to that meeting. So the more people that can go in and bring the message to these lesser unfortunates than us, what it does for you is probably tenfold is what you do for them, I'm sure.
For me it is anyways. Thank you. Thank you. Thanks, Carol, for your sharing. It's very heartening. This morning anybody who was at the prison panel may have heard Jim Estelle say that he was preaching to the choir, but the thing is he asked the choir to go back and sing where they live. And Carol's an example of that in her talk, that there is a lot of fear. As a woman, A.A., I know that I have fear and had fear when I went, first of all, into a prison setting.
And now they're going to have to dynamite me out of my office in rotation because I just love it so much. And you know they will. I would like now to introduce you to Norm A. from New Jersey. Norm? That's my brother-in-law! I got this whole Four Roses, my clack, that I brought in. My name's Norm and I'm an alcoholic. Hi. Leroy and I were talking earlier about, you know, if you're going to make a talk at any time, there's three talks that you give.
The one you plan to give, the one you give, and the one afterwards you wish that you gave. And we talked about being nervous, and I said to him, you know, he says, well, the only place I've really talked is at prisons, and he says, I feel comfortable there. I said, nobody's going to come into this panel workshop if they aren't interested in prison work. So we're just talking to the same kind of troops, I think.
And I'm like Carol, I cannot explain to you why I like to do what we call in A.A. prison work. I have no idea. I can tell you that I was raised by my grandmother, was a spoiled child and rather isolated, and lived in a fantasy world, and I didn't like authority, I didn't like Boy Scout camp. And I didn't like authority, I didn't like Boy Scout camp, as Tom Doherty and I say, we don't like communal living, and anything that's got a regiment to it.
[00:15:06]
I didn't like policemen, Sunday school teachers, school teachers. I didn't like going away to camp. I didn't like anything where you're locked into some kind of a routine. And I got some idea that prison is even worse than camp. And I had another problem is I not only didn't adjust to life as a child, when I hit puberty and teenage, somebody introduced me to booze and I found out I could grow up and bypass maturing.
Because with two drinks, I felt like I was grown up. And I had the illusion of feeling that I was successful, that I related well with people, and I spent the next 23 years trying to capture that same feeling that I got with the first two drinks. You know, many of us have been up before judges and always say, how much did you have to drink? And as Mike Shelley says, I only had two beers. And we always say, I just had a couple drinks because that's all it took to get that feeling the first time we drank.
And I many times went through a fifth and a half trying to find in there those two drinks that give you that feeling. I remember when I was in the Navy that I didn't know you could drink on board ships. I had sobriety periods in between ports. But I didn't like to work. It was a very lazy, unmotivated, you know, child in a big fellow's body. And when it came time to load the stores on the ship, I would hide. I never would contribute, and I wouldn't share. And I was very selfish and under myself, and I looked at what's in it for me. I really believed that.
And when I looked at people, I looked at what can you do for me? And that was my attitude in life. It was what can I get? And the people I owe amends to are like my grandmother. I used to go and get money for her for household expenses because I spent my money for household expenses on booze. And so the guy who came to Alcoholics Anonymous was this selfish, self-centered little boy who tried to battle through life, you know, boxing ghosts and drunkenness. When I finally got to the point that that 90% of fun in my drinking and 10% trouble had reversed itself, as we described.
And I came to Alcoholics Anonymous, and I have to say why, because I think the kind of people in here that do the service work are the kind of people that I met while I was drinking, that broke their anonymity to me on a one-on-one basis and told me that they used to drink like I did, but they didn't anymore because they'd found Alcoholics Anonymous. And I could turn my back on those people, and I could walk away, but in my mind they were there. They're the only people I ever met that had a power that wasn't intimidating.
And so when I came to Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew that's what was going to be in those meeting rooms. We were talking last night about our first meeting. I remember going to that first meeting. It was a live meeting, the Thursday night meeting at the community church in Glenville, Illinois in 1965. And I walked in, and it was just like last night when you couldn't get in. They were trying to put four pounds of sand in a two-pound bag up there in that ballroom, and we used the serenity prayer and went and found something else to do, but the feeling, the vibes that you feel from being at this convention are so overwhelming.
And I felt that the first meeting I went to. I spent six months looking for the spiritual side of the program, but one day I discovered there is no side. The whole thing is spiritual. That's what I felt the first meeting I went to. And I was a goer. I found out that if you want to stay sober, I didn't know anything about the program, but I went with people places. I used to run around at bars. Let's go to the other bar. Let's go to Lou and Cully's, see if there's any action over there.
And so when I came into AA, I found out you could move around and have lots of action even without drinking. And I ran to somebody that said they could get me into Stateville Prison, and I said, how do you do that? I thought that'd be exciting. I saw all those Warner Brothers movies with Edward G. Robinson, and I was going to go to where they clang those cell doors, you know. I went, and they clanged the door and scared the hell out of me.
And I went, and I met these guys, and I'd go around, and I'd shake hands. And I'd say, where are you from? And you know how that responses you, that code of sound. Hi, what's your name? I'm Norm. I'm from Chicago. Where are you from? And I'd finally get somebody to open up. Maybe I'd have to go to three meetings and say that to that guy three times, and he would finally say something to me. And I'd come away from those meetings, and I'd feel better.
[00:20:00]
And so I got in the habit of going, and I waited for my turn to go. I saw Jim Monahan, and he runs the meetings at Yardville Prison outside of Trenton, New Jersey. And he says to me, he says, when are you coming? And I said, give me a date and ask that I come, because that's the only way. If you say, will you come, and tell me five weeks from now, I think that'll never get here. And I'd say, yeah, I'll come, and I'll be there.
And I'd make commitments, because my sobriety is here because of commitments. And so I went. And we moved out here to New Jersey about five years ago, and I didn't do much prison work anymore. And one day we went to the general service office at the open house. And, you know, you go from, if you've been to that, and you go from office to office, and each staff member has an assignment. And it happens that Susan D. had the institution's assignment.
And so I had sat through one of those square meetings where they say, anybody like to correspond with a prisoner, get your name in. And I'd sit down, you know. It's about the same way you do when they ask for volunteers for coffee at your meeting, and you try to hide. And I just didn't volunteer. I said, they have stay-at-homes that ought to write people. I don't write people. Well, finally, I needed help.
Here I was, I'd moved, I'd left all our friends in Illinois, and I felt lonesome. And I took out my car, and I said, Susan, you know, let me write to somebody. So I got a guy to write to. So I start by telling him about me. And it seemed like from the outset that we were comfortable with each other. I told him a little bit about me, and then he wrote, he opened, his first letter, he said, oh, one of those I read sitting, sure beats sitting in a cell, I'd like to have somebody write to, maybe.
And I wrote back, and I said, you got me. I said, I tried to kill my first wife when I was drunk, but she's too big. Well, let me do it. Well, let me do it. And I started unfolding about myself, because I knew that if I didn't say about myself, that he wouldn't feel comfortable saying about himself to me. And he'd write back what's going on in there, and of course you hear about how bad it is, and I can believe that.
And I got to remembering about going to Joliet, the old Joliet prison. And I wrote him, and I said in there, in the old Joliet prison, inside is a brand new building, old school building, and there's a sign that says, let time serve you. And I said, I understand now that you can graduate from Lewis College down there in Joliet. I said, can you do that down there in Huntsville? And this went back and forth.
And then he wrote and said he applied, didn't think he'd get it. Then I said, what about your family? And he wrote me and said he wasn't speaking to them. I wrote back and said, that's okay, I have resentments too. And he told me about his 10 years, and so I'm unfolding to him, and I'm unfolding things about myself by writing it down. This gives me a new perspective on my own sobriety. And I started sponsoring a guy.
I take people to meetings, I found out that my car has more than one seat. You know, I don't just have a driver's seat, I got a passenger seat, I got a car with four doors. And so here's this guy with no license, and he had 10 years license suspension. So I started taking Leroy's letters, and I said, here, Walt, read about Leroy. I said, you think you got a bad with no license? Look where he is, you know.
And Leroy from prison is peppin' up Walter, if you can believe that. And so we have a sort of a habit, at 5 o'clock at night I come home, and we read the mail. And I would say, I'd come home and I'd say, I got a letter from Leroy. You know, I would start reading. And we are pouring out to one another. And you remember I asked about, you know, how about your kids? And he wrote back and he said, well, maybe, I did hear from the one son and daughter-in-law, And he wrote back and he said, well, maybe, I did hear from the one son and daughter-in-law, and then he wrote back and said that they had, he'd gotten a letter.
And there was some amends going on, some reuniting of family. And we were talking about getting shook up when you get some mail. And I had to stop reading the letter. I think it's great, in this program, that we can have good emotions. I used to think we'd come in this program and sober up, I won't have any more emotions, I'm going to be rid of all my instincts and my emotions. And I thought I can break up and I can cry and feel, feel a great feeling.
And Leroy wrote that he didn't have any literature. And he only had one meeting and it was hard to get to. And he boarded somebody's 12 and 12 and he was, he was copying in longhand. And he boarded somebody's 12 and 12 and he was, he was copying in longhand.
[00:25:02]
You've got lots of time in prison to copy most anything. And so he's copying, you know, the steps and the traditions in longhand because he's got to get the book. So I went to my group. And in the tradition, I didn't say, well, the group buy literature for this prison group down there in Huntsville, Texas. But I announced what I'm doing. And I said, I'm going to put a box over here. If anybody's got any old grapevines or literature or a buck or two you can throw in there, maybe we can do something for this group.
We ended up four weeks later with 89 pieces of literature, a whole bunch of books, a whole bunch of books. We ended up four weeks later with 89 pieces of literature, a whole bunch of grapevines in there and enough money to buy six big books and four 12s and 12s. And we, I got, you know, the seventh, don't tell this. Anybody here with mobile oil, don't tell this outside. But you know how our companies violate the seventh tradition that we don't accept outside contributions.
Sometimes postings and Xerox machines and stuff of our companies help a whole lot. And the box went. And this kind of living, we get to talking and it looks like then one day I ran to Ann Warner from the grapevine and I said, you know, I'm having this great correspondence. And I told her about Triton back and forth, what was going on. Well, we'd been in the forum, that's where I said, I saw her and then I came home and I got this letter from Leroy.
And it starts out, it says, I'm the happiest con in this world, in this joint. And it was so joyous that I sent it to Ann. I said, it's so delightful, I had to send it to you. I couldn't resist it because he got into school. And then I, and we got, Ann and I got talking. I said, I think it'd be a great article. We'd take our correspondence. I had saved the letters that I wrote, I Xeroxed them. And so we, and I got talking to Leroy.
He said, you might get out. I said, maybe at the convention in Montreal. And this was like a year and a half ago, I'm saying this. We could meet on Fourth of July weekend in Montreal, 1985. And we didn't know if that was going to happen. We just set that as a goal. And a year ago in July, our letters got published in the grapevine under Leo and Ned, that's who we are in there because we're anonymous in there.
But we are the prison issue. And so I said later, I talked to Eileen. I said, we could have the living grapevine, you know. We actually, it came true that we met. And Tuesday night, we went to the airport and we met Leo's plane, Leroy. And we were looking for him. We ran into another friend of ours in Chicago and he's standing looking for him. He doesn't even know what he looks like, but he's looking for him.
And I come up to the hall and I look. I said, Leroy. And we had a big hug. And the comfortable feeling just continued. And this is a joy of living, a gift that it's like it talks about in the big book and the promises. About this marvelous promise in the big book and the chapter seven and lurking with others that to have a host of friends, to have this kind of love in your heart and this kind of sharing is an experience you must not miss.
And I thank God that I'm an alcoholic, to be in AA, to do what we do, that a selfish person in a selfish program, we turn out how to be selfish, is that we end up by sharing. And that's love. And I am grateful to be here. And thank you very much. Thank you very much, Norm. When Norm was sharing and he said, well, he went to meet Leroy and he didn't know what he looked like, that made me think of how many times I have been on an AA trip from the office and wondering, you know, and not knowing.
And we always find each other. And I have something of that feeling this afternoon because many people here, I do know what you look like, but others I don't. But we've written to each other. And I want to let this opportunity be one in which I can express my thanks to all of you here that I have been in contact with in some way or another over the past two years. And, you know, we keep in touch. I've been in prison for the last two years, and you know, we keep saying about all of us in here are in this service work, and I know many of us are, but there are probably some, I'll bet, who just kind of wandered in here, and if you did, let me tell you that being involved in prison service work in AA is very exciting.
[00:30:18]
I remember the first time I ever went to a prison. It was the Bayview Correctional Center in New York for women, and I was absolutely terrified, and I thought, these women are not going to identify with this five-foot white wasp. My story, of course, continues to get lower the longer I'm sober, a day at a time, but I thought it was pretty high. Like Carol, I had a job and a car, but they did, because we speak the language of the heart. We try to stay sober a day at a time by sharing, and you do give it away to keep it.
When Norm was talking about corresponding, you know, there is a correspondent service that coordinates through GSO, and if anybody wants to do that, we do it on an individual basis. Your group, wonderful idea for your group to donate back grape vines, which AA inmates love getting old grape vines, new ones, too, if your group wants to make a subscription for somebody, but the correspondent service is a one-on-one, and if anybody is interested in being part of that service, they can just drop a note to General Service Office Corrections Desk for information.
We overwhelmingly have male inmates looking for correspondents. The fact is that the female population in prison is much, much smaller. It's a tiny percentage, and so, of course, that's true in terms of the AA fellowship, too. Some women will write to male inmates. Other women prefer not to. Women who wish to write only to another woman, there is a waiting list for that, but if you want, you can get on that waiting list, and if you're willing to write to a male inmate, just drop a note to the office. Please don't give it to me here.
Anyway, so it is now my privilege to introduce our next speaker, Leroy P. from Texas. Thank you, Eileen. My name is Leroy. I'm a recovering alcoholic. My God. A person reminded me, and it's true, I don't know the exact registration number, but it's over 40,000, and that's about how many people there are in the Texas Department of Corrections, where I got out of about ten months ago. I was glad to be last today, because it gave me time to think of what I would say, and it doesn't work that way.
I drank for the biggest part of my life, starting at the age of 17 when I joined the Navy, and anything I did, whether it was work, play, or drink, I did it hard. I wanted to be the best at it. I went along for quite a number of years before I got into any problems. In 1979, I worked for a large petrochemical corporation, and they asked me to get some help in a rather strong way, so I volunteered. Despite myself, I did learn a few things, although everything they taught, you were diametrically opposed to what I believed in. I didn't want that, but I pacified them.
I played a good role, and I got out of there with flying colors and returned to drinking, and still having a good time, no problems until my 43rd birthday. I got a little old DWI, and they told me in AA that that would happen. By this time, I had even tried two or three churches, and I don't knock the churches. I've been back since I got out of prison.
[00:35:00]
Boy, I've been sprinkled, and I've been dipped, and I don't know why, and everything else, and none of it worked for me. But I got this DWI, and hey, they told me things would get worse, but that wasn't too bad. A little old fine, I didn't even make the paper. Very few people at home knew about it. I continued to drink for a couple more months, and decided to quit on my own, just because I did everything else on my own, from a quarter day to nothing.
I got hospitalized for a couple of weeks. I came out of the hospital on Librium and Mellorel, and I was going to church on Sunday afternoon, October 14, 1980, October 16. I ran over and killed a 14-year-old kid, and I don't even remember it. I continued on down the road, went to church, went to my home, and about an hour or two after I'd gotten home, someone knocked at the door, and I had already called.
A little gal was going to pick me up, and we were going to go down to the bar, and I needed some cigarettes. So I go to the door, boy, I'm all ready. She just broke up with her boyfriend. I got to the door, and there's flashing lights out there, State, City, County. They told me what I had done, and I remembered hitting something. They told me the boy's name, and I asked them, was this his dad's name, and they said, yes, it is. I worked with this boy's dad and stepmother for years. I knew him real well.
That did not stop me from drinking. That's the insanity of this disease. I drank on and off, waiting for trial. I attended AA on and off. I just wasn't ready. At the trial, over a year later, I got ten years involuntary manslaughter. I copped out to that five years, failed to stop them from running the raid, and I continued to drink on and off. It wasn't until I hurt so bad, I couldn't live with me. I couldn't drink anywhere and enjoy it. I had lost my home that I'd lived in for 18 years, the job that I'd had for almost 22 years.
My wife had left me back in 1971. She was pretty smart. I tried a couple of others since then. One of them tried to kill me, Norm. It was the day that I gave up, July 25, 1982, and I knew I was going to prison. I got to that prison, and I remember one of the AA members telling me that if you ever make it there, do whatever you have to do to get into AA, and I did. I remember that. I hadn't been on the Ellis unit but a week or so that the first drink was offered to me. I had been to one AA meeting. I'd conned my way past the guards. We're pretty good at conning our way past anything.
I turned that drink down, and I wanted to write to someone because we had a Sunday meeting, sometimes a Tuesday one-hour group therapy, and I was wanting AA. Now that I was where I couldn't get it, I wanted it. I wanted a pen pal, someone to write to in AA. I couldn't write to those folks back home. Hell, they knew me. So I wrote to GSO. I found this little booklet at that first meeting in prison. It sure beats sitting in a cell. I actually read the thing and found this address. I had Hale point it out to someone else later. I couldn't find it for another guy.
But I wrote, and as Norm said, that's how I met Norm. That relationship has grown into the best relationship I've had in my life. It has helped me immensely. I cannot put it in words.
[00:40:02]
The thing that Norm spoke about a while ago encouraged me about going to school. I got into college full-time for six months, and about half the time after that, against almost insurmountable odds. But nothing had dawned on me. All this time I had never believed that God would help me, but I faked it because that's something else I'd heard. Fake it till you make it. And prison wasn't a place to pray. I'd say my prayers a lot of times in just silence, laying there in that bunk.
And I didn't know that anything was going on. Norm asked me about my gambling. I love to play dominoes. We didn't receive any pay, and I could make money to buy cigarettes and stuff gambling. There's anything in prison that you want, especially if you have a little money to spend. It was about over a year after I'd been in prison, a year and a half or so, that I all of a sudden realized that I had in thirteen, well at the end it ended up in thirteen months, I managed to get forty-six semester hours.
With an almost straight A average. And I had done this and I had done that, and it dawned on me one day that I hadn't done a damn thing. I hadn't quit drinking, I mean gambling. I realized that those prayers were being answered. Because I was doing the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. And I was having fun doing it. I was enjoying it. I was free in that prison because of this program. And because Norm's letters, and sometimes there'd be, I believe, at least three a week. They were the extra AA meetings for me. And I wanted more, and Norm got two or three other guys.
I still correspond with one, Pete Slager, a man who'd spent over twenty years in prison and has been in the program since about the mid-forties. There were so many wonderful things that happened because of this correspondence. I just today shared with Norm, it dawned on me, I went back to visit this prison twice now, and the last time I was there, this young man who was in there for the first time, he'd never been to the program on the outside.
He got there, his first day he came there, he asked about, what can I do? Can I do this or this or this? What's going to help me get out? He asked about AA, never having been, he was there for the same charges I was. I shared with him. He, at this last meeting about three weeks ago, said that I'd been put on his mailing list. When can you visit me? And I said, how about after the meeting? Today, he calls me his sponsor. Today, he refers to, he says, Leroy, I have a Norm. His name is Louise.
So it was passed on, and it's still working. The Texas Department of Corrections gave me a year set off in parole. But then four months later, he saw that I got called up for parole. I came out of prison last August, and I knew I wanted to believe all these things, but there were a lot of decisions to be made that I didn't know what to do. Hell, I'm an ex-convict and an alcoholic, who's going to hire me?
Where am I going to live after I get out of this halfway house? All kinds of things. But I just kept working this program best I know how, and I've gotten a lot of help from a lot of people. And I see some of those people here right now. from a lot of people, and I see some of those people here right now that I personally met. I moved out of the halfway house to Pasadena, Texas, and today I know that just as the people
[00:45:11]
that came to that prison to talk to us at the meetings, when they said they loved us, they said they would accept me and let me love you, I've learned a lot about gratitude and love, not the love that I understood back in the drinking day, but the real thing. God's been good to me. I'm unemployed right now, but that's my choice. I've done a lot of firsts since I got out. I got fired off a couple of jobs, in the last ten months I've quit two, and real good jobs.
But I have this inner feeling, it's time to grow and it's time to move on. Today I go back to prison and they allow me back there. It's damn good to feel wanted. I've been requested by some of the personnel, the administration, to do some work for them. They used to just want me. Today they ask me. The main thing I know that, like I say, I've learned a lot. And I've gotten a lot from this program, from all of you.
The two biggest gifts I've gotten are my sobriety and an understanding of God like I've never had before. And a lot of you are right, it really doesn't make any difference. It doesn't make any difference whether I'm back there in Pasadena, Texas at that little group meeting, or whether I'm here at the convention, and this is great, this is awesome. But I know one thing, or a couple of things, really.
I know that when I go back to that room tonight, or back home to my apartment, today at least I know what drink makes me drunk. It's that first one, when that insanity returns, when I pick it up, if I ever do. The other thing I realize, no problem at all, because I ask him and I thank him. The other thing is that with his help, I know who has the choice over whether I take that drink or not, and that's me.
I thank you very much for letting me be here today and share with you, God bless you. Thank you very much, Leroy. This is a workshop, and we have some time left, which is for any of us who wants to, to share. There's the microphone. If you would be so kind as to go on to the middle of the aisle here, and use the microphone so that we're a large group, so that everybody can hear you. And please identify yourself, would be appreciated.
Just to share, or if you have a question to ask of any of our speakers, or if there's anything that you would like to share with all of us, that helps. Sure. Hi, my name's Pete, and I'm an alcoholic. Hi, Pete. Hi, everybody. Leroy, I know the emotion that you're going through, and yours too, because I was going through it with you. I happen to be an ex-convict, and my first meeting was at the Kansas State Penitentiary in Lansing, Kansas, and I was there because of alcohol, and I made eight more, seven more trips after that one because of alcohol, parole violations because of alcohol, and my life
[00:50:03]
has been, was ruled up until the age, I was 43, by alcohol. I'm in service work too. I happen to be the chairman of the Correctional Facilities Committee for the western area of Missouri. I've been in contact with Eileen, and we've had a real satisfactory correspondence. This is my first international too, and I read the story in the grapevine about you two guys. You guys haven't talked. I told my wife, Bernie, I said, that's the two guys.
I read it in the grapevine. I said that before you said that, so I remember, but service work for me, I could understand exactly what both of you are going through because I have a sponsor too that brought me the message at the Kansas State Penitentiary, and oh man, I never will have enough gratitude for this program and the people in service work. Service work is me. It's my life. I love it. I love it because I know exactly what those people feel like in there.
The empathy that I have for the ex-con or for the convict, for the inmate, the resident, whatever you want to call them, for the man who has a problem with alcohol behind the wall. I could surely relate to you when you said you can get anything you want in prison if you have the money. We sure are con men in there, out and wherever, we people, because of alcohol. All I can say is it's a pleasure to meet you two, and the story has a wonderful ending, and unfortunately, all of them don't have, but this one does, and there's so many, many people in penitentiaries and institutions that really and truly need we people that carry this message, this life-saving message to those people.
Thank you very much. Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Jim Monaghan. I am an alcoholic. I am the chairman for the Yardville Youth and Correctional Center in Yardville, New Jersey. I have no objection to anyone breaking my anonymity. I feel an awful lot like Dr. Bob said about his. How in the hell can I help you? If I tell you I will help you, I can't tell you who to call upon. It's a great deal of pleasure for me working with these boys in the institutions.
Of course, Yardville isn't my first one, but I can thank Curtis M. for my experiences in Yardville. He sent me a letter from one of the inmates, and when I went to see the fellow, I found out what he wanted. He wanted an AA group. I told him, you've got two AA groups. He said, I want another one. Well, since then, I've formed two groups in there, but I'd like to speak a wee bit about the people in front of me today.
You know, for me, it's a great deal of pleasure to meet in person the people who I have correspondence with. And for Anne over there, and Eileen, I'm real happy to know what you look like. Now I'll feel better in the correspondence, but you know, I've had a great many speakers come into Yardville, and my favorites are that gentleman in the blue suit or black suit sitting up there, and this pretty lady over here in the blue dress.
I wish you could see Norm go in there. He is really something. And those boys demand that I bring him back. They love him. And I don't know, sometimes I'm the ex-inmate, and sometimes I'm the old platoon sergeant. It depends on what is needed. But I am real pleased at what they told my co-chairman. He's more their age. And they told him they could identify better with me than they can with him. And I think Norm and Leroy knows what I'm talking about.
When I was in there, you tried to ask me any questions or get any information out of me. How did Norm describe it? You didn't get any. You did not learn anything from me. You did not learn where I came from. You did not learn where I planned to go from there. You didn't learn anything. Even the trustee, of course, I knew was my enemy, because he was a stool for the guards and so forth. I forget that.
[00:55:00]
Oh, the screw. Now, I don't know where I would have gone or what would have happened to me if I hadn't lost my vision. And that was a trial of a great many years. And of course, I had no desire to live. And I have tried suicide a couple of times. But when you can't see, you have to behave yourself. You can't run. But it is a real pleasure. But there's one thing I want to bring up. I know that AA will not attempt even to dictate to the institutions, but I would like some opinions on how I can do something about this third counselor.
Now, I've had two counselors already. This is the third one coming in, and he is becoming a real pain. And he is beginning to try to cancel meetings on me, and I don't want canceled meetings. Thank you, Jim. I forgot one of the important things that I should say in terms of sharing at the workshop that we'll try and have everybody share no longer than two minutes. And how does it go now? Nobody shares for a second time until everybody has shared once, right?
That's not my strong point. Very, very briefly, because Jim did ask a question about a counselor or the professional, I would like to respond to that from our shared traditions and our shared experience in prison work as it comes into us over the years at the office of primary importance is to remember that we are guests of the facility, that the traditions are ours, and that if they don't know them and if they don't respect them, we can try, we cooperate, but we are guests.
Jim Estelle, who spoke this morning, I have had the privilege of hearing him share many times that we must remember that we are guests of the facility, and that facility has its own agenda, the top of which is security, and the traditions are ours to know, not theirs, and we can share them with others. Okay. Thank you. My name is Jimmy and I'm an alcoholic. I'm from the same area that Pete is, Kansas City, and we go to the, I go to the Lansing Prison too, take meetings there once a week.
There's a couple of other fellows in the room here today that share those meetings as well. There's two groups that sponsor these people in the women's prison at Lansing, Kansas. And I understand there's 214 inmates there, and we've had this program in effect now for about a year and a half, and it has been in effect before, but it's just been stabilized in the last year and a half. And out of those 214 inmates, I understand that there's 80 that belong to our program, our fellowship, and I think it's beautiful because we have, and we are guests of the prison, but we are AA too, and I feel it's an extreme privilege to be able to walk out of there because I took another fellow there with me one time and he says, gee, this is beautiful.
The only time I ever went anywhere and 40 women wanted to come home with me. But it really is beautiful. And I feel that this fellowship and my conscious contact with God as I understand him has made everything possible in my life today, and it is a privilege to meet both of you fellows because I know what you showed up there, you just can't buy that. You can't find it anymore. Thank you. Hello, panel and everybody else.
I'm Kathleen. You can call me Kay, and I'm addicted to many other things besides alcohol. Jim, I work with people out of the Texas Department of Corrections in a halfway house in Houston, Texas, and it gave me hope to see that somebody like you could come up to Montreal and tell you a story, because I'd love to see so many of the guys that come through the house. of Correction get into that psychic change that I hear comes from you.
We have a few, probably, I can't count too many on my hand, maybe a little bit more,
[01:00:05]
and they have success stories, but I don't know, you hear the success story, but somehow it makes more of an impact when it comes from the way you presented it, so it was really nice and it gave me a lot of hope that some of the work that we do in the halfway houses can help. I want to relate to the young lady, Carolyn, you know, when you say you work with people in the prisons, and I'm always telling everybody, I know why I love my work with the inmates, it's because I have a criminal mind as well as they do, it's just that I never did get caught, and I really committed some crimes, so I can really relate, but not just because of that, there is something about that, you know, I heard that, whatever it was you said, I can't even remember your words, but it was something like, there's just something there, and it really feels good, and it makes the work that we do more worthwhile because we can be right in with it. Thank you.
Good afternoon everybody, my name is Sonny, and I'm a very happy alcoholic, and the greatest thing that's ever happened to me is coming to Alcoholics Anonymous and going into a prison, you know, I had spent six years in prison, but crimes I don't know anything about either, I'm an ex-New York City cop, and I didn't find any in prison, it was brought to us, but I didn't find it there. It took me ten years, twelve years actually, after I came out of prison before I found Alcoholics Anonymous, but the first day that I went into a prison, I was over about 80 days, and it was a small group, five men, and four of them had been in there just like me, they didn't know why they were there, crimes committed on the booze, and I knew then where my life was going to go, and for the last nine years, I know the joy that you each one of you are sharing about now, because that's been my life in Alcoholics Anonymous, and I always feel, and we hear many people say, well, why should I go into a prison, I didn't drink like that, I didn't kill nobody, I didn't go to prison, I've never been in this, as long as we're sober in Alcoholics Anonymous, we got to measure the courage of the guys inside and the women inside. I just had one little incident in my own life, in a prison, this young lady that I was going to, I met to see up in Bedford Hills, she came down to another prison in the city on work release, and my brother and I picked her up and took her home, to our first AA meeting on the outside, and it was also her anniversary, she headed our group, she wanted to work with inmates, with people suffering with alcoholism, and today she's working five and a half years in a sobering up station, still sober, she's married now, and happy. Those are the joys that we can see if we're in here doing this, you know, and I go regularly, I belong to more than one prison, but I love it. The only thing that keeps me sober today is you, and grace of God, thank you.
I'm Ronnie, I'm an alcoholic. Hi Ronnie. Hi. Thanks for filling me up, everybody on the panel. I'm still so dumb, it was almost near the end of your story that I realized that you were the Leroy, and you were the, you know, I didn't really care, you know, I mean, who the people were, you know, because I could feel the warmth and the sharing and the caring through the mail, you know, so it didn't, you know. I came into AA as a direct result of fear, the fear of the unfortunate thing that happened with Leroy, and I could feel for him even though I didn't experience that. I'm truly sober through the grace of God in this program, and I just want to thank you all for being here today at the meeting to remind me why I'm here, thank you. Hi everyone, I'm Bob, I'm an alcoholic. Hi Bob. Hi everybody, I'm also an ex-con, I got out in 1963. I was probably in prison by the time I didn't realize it, at that particular place in LaGrange State Reformatory, I prefer to call it college a lot of times. I did learn a lot, but there was no such a thing as AA. If they did, I didn't look for it, I didn't want it no damn way, I was too young. But, you know, I was
[01:05:05]
I have been doing prison work now for about 8 years. Now, I'm a North Florida Institution chairman and I cover about 67 different prisons. And I am also from Central Florida, and I've had a lot of contact with Eileen, which I think she does a beautiful job up there. And it is a great reward to see just one, one come out of a prison system, you know, that got this message through the program Alcoholics Anonymous in there. And my advice to anybody going into the institution, the prisons especially, the first thing you do is get to know your superintendent, kind of kiss his butt if you have to or whatever, and get things going in there and usually get what you want, you know. But this has been proven to be the best program there are in the prison system. Today, I look at the reason I was in prison was so I could be doing the work I'm doing now. And I love it. And that's what helps keep me sober.
Three months I was back in this program, after 5 years of playing with it, the outside sponsorship was dumped on me. And from that day on, I have been sober and I've been grateful. And I've been doing it. I've been doing prison work ever since. And I'm going to continue to do it as long as I'm able to. Thank you. I'm Wendy Outland and I'm a grateful alcoholic. And like Carol, I believe it is, I'm a little nervous. But I guess the nervousness is because of my emotions, how I feel. Six out of my seven and a half years of sobriety, I've been doing institutional work. Not so much in a prison per se, but in a correctional center, but it's the same thing in my book. I work with men and women in the Maine Correctional Center, which is in South Windom, Maine. And I really enjoyed that. And I was their coordinator for a while, for three and a half years. And a couple years ago, I became chairman of the institutions for our district. And then I went on to the state level. And recently, I had to resign from that for personal reasons.
But I kept on with the institutional work because next to my sobriety, you know, it's right there. Today, my husband and I both work with the boys at the Maine Youth Center. We take them to meetings at least twice a week. They allow us to take these boys to meetings on the outside. I can't say, I don't know what to say, but the institution itself, the administration is something else. It's out of this world, the cooperation that we get from them to help us to, you know, to do one-to-ones with these kids or to take them out or whatever's needed. They're right there. And that's half the battle right there.
Like, I believe it was Eileen that was saying, you have to go within the institutional guidelines, you know, along with the aid guidelines. But I've been doing this for about six years. And I didn't even know they had a workshop on institutions. When I found that out, I got all hyped up and I said, oh my God, I've got to get there, you know. I'll miss something else, but I've got to be there, you know. And I really enjoy listening to you, Leroy, you know, to hear on an inwards point of view. And to hear Norm, to have you guys meet, you know, that's really, that's really emotional because I see kids and I told someone going to the convention, they say, oh, when you come back, you know, tell us about it. Then we have our meetings on Thursday nights. I just want to add that sometimes the inside coordinator and I are the only two people that are there. Sometimes we don't get the outside support. But, you know, he's in the fellowship, too, and that's real helpful.
And I pray a little bit. And then next week we see, you know, four or five more people. But I don't care, you know. It only takes two to make a meeting. And we have discussion meetings. And, you know, as far as I'm concerned, as long as I coordinate over there, those meetings are going to go on because they're real important. It's real important to carry the message in the institutions and to keep it up one day at a time. Thank you.
Hi, I'm Marilyn. I'm an alcoholic. Great pleasure for me to be here today and meet with this panel. I work at Eastern Correctional Facility in New York. And because of volunteer services, I'm not allowed really to be involved with the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, which does not really stop me to great lengths. I do want to express my concern with when
[01:10:01]
we say we are responsible. I believe we're responsible, especially behind the walls. What happens is Alcoholics Anonymous meetings are run and the inmates sort of carry a ball and they don't know what game they're playing. I spoke to one inmate and I asked him about the big book. He didn't know what I was talking about. I asked him how long he was going to AA meetings. He said ten months. Another time, and it was just like within weeks, I spoke about the disease concept and an inmate thought I was talking about AIDS. I said, how long are you going to AA? He said ten months. I called Eileen. I was really upset. And when we are responsible, we're going to be carrying that message behind the walls too. And I will tell you that there are a lot of Leroys. And when I sit in my office, is when I realize but for the grace of God, I didn't add those things to my story. And we must carry that message behind the walls. And the Leroys will love us back. They love me and I love them and I am responsible. And that's why I'm expressing my concern for these people. We're to carry the message behind the walls and they will love us back and they'll carry it forth. Thank you.
Hi everybody. My name is Burt and I too am an alcoholic. And I'm a member of the Northern California Hospital and Institution Committee, which is a little different than the East Coast where you go through General Service Office. And I've had the great privilege and pleasure of being active in mainline institution work for around eight and a half years now. I'm also an alumni from some of the finer academies. I've had the Edison Medicine and I've been strapped on the rubber rooms and the empty rooms. And the thing that I found out, and I guess it needs to be said, is you know, it doesn't matter where you take people like me and my kind and lock us up or strap us down. The only thing you can do for us there is separate us from alcohol and drugs. You can't take the desire away. We have to get it. This morning, I went to the panel this morning, Prisons and AA. When I walked in the room, you know, I don't think I'm any different than anybody else in this room.
We're from all over and we're looking for the recognizable face, one of our own, from our group or the people from our state. I walked into that meeting, 11 people from Northern California Hospital and Institution Committee are sitting there. My ex-general chairman, men that had took me into my first institution as an AA panelist to a symposium, to walk through the walls of Folsom and into San Quentin and into Soledad. Those men were there, those men and women. I may be out of line, but I hope I'm not. How many of you here, raise your hands please, that are products of the message being carried to us? I would like to thank those that did it.
My name is Reuben Ball and I'm an alcoholic. I'm an ex-inmate. I did about 16 years. Drunk while I was in there. Took a truck out of there while I was in there. Got more time, that shows you how stupid we get. I had a wife and three kids at home. I never brought them up. But today, they think I'm the greatest. And I'd like to thank them people up there, because this is what we need. People like them that will help.
Excuse me. I know what it is to be inside. I know what it is to be locked up. But we need more Canadians to help, as I'm the first Canadian that's got up here now. No, I'm wrong. But it just shows you that we should get help and help our sister and brother more. Because I know I've done that. And I tell you, I've been in, I'm proud I've been in AA. And I tell you, I've been in, I'm proud, I've been in AA, 36 years.
So it does work, if we work at it.
[01:15:00]
And if we work at it, we can stay out of them, and save the taxpayers' money, or your money, instead of borrowing it like I used to, because I had a great habit of borrowing other people's money. I used the word borrowing because it's better than stealing. But I mean this when I say it. People, will you get up off your panty and help guys like me? God bless you. Bruce Larson, I'm a very grateful alcoholic.
And I belong to the Mississauga New Life Group, another Canadian. We do have jails and prisons, and we do have problems here in Canada, as well as the States. When I was 18, in prison, I went to three AA meetings, and I finally confronted an AA member, and he told me that I was too young to be an alcoholic. And I went back out, and he told me I still had about 10 or 15 or 20 years of good drinking time left.
I went back out, and I drank almost nothing at the time. When I come to Alcoholics and Alums at 38, I was already spent 45 years in jail, according to my record. I have been very fortunate. I have been sober 17 and a half years, through the grace of God. And my wife and I, we do put on meetings in the OCI at Brampton Institute, and we do whatever we can. I sponsor about 30 people, and half of them are ex-inmates.
And this is the way that I keep my sobriety, and I hope to God that somebody else shares this load, because it's getting pretty heavy. Thanks. Hello, everybody. My name's Art, and I'm powerless over alcohol. And I really got a lot out of your messages up here, and I'm involved at the Statesville Correctional Center right now. And I gotta say, I wasn't an ex-inmate, and I don't know why I got involved, like you said.
But I found out what tough was when the door shut behind me, and I had no one to turn to but the higher power for help. I just really enjoyed all the messages, and I'd like to say that sometimes this work can be real discouraging. I'm involved in trying to get people scheduled to come out to the prison at different times, and working with alcoholics and a lot of ego and pride, that's not easy sometimes.
And sometimes it's real discouraging. But I've had the luck to see an inmate come out and bump into him in a meeting in the downtown Chicago area, and it makes it all worthwhile, you know? It gives you good purpose. And I'm glad I'm here. Thanks. Hi, everyone. My name is Jim, and I'm a very grateful alcoholic. And that's why I'm here today, because I'm grateful. I'm originally from Montreal, and we moved out to Winnipeg.
And it was here in Montreal where I found myself. And it was here in Montreal where I learned how to drink, and where I found AA. It's hard for me to speak here today. Actually, right over this building stand was one of my hiding places. In the old days, there used to be a tramway terminal here, and whenever I got loaded and tired and sick and couldn't find a place to sleep, I'd walk in here and go to the bathroom and sit in the toilet.
That's where I'd wake up in the morning, where the police would wake me up. I was on Skid Row down here for four years. And the reason was that because I lived on the other side of the river here. If you notice that long, big, high bridge over there, that was over the South Shore. And I used to have to walk that bridge to get home, because I couldn't keep ten cents in my pocket to pay for the fare over the bridge.
And one night I was in the middle of that bridge and couldn't stand it anymore. I was hurting so bad, and I wanted to jump off the bridge. And I screamed for help. God help me. You know, God put me in jail. You've got to be careful what you ask for. I found myself crawling around the dungeon in Bordeaux Jail here for twelve months. But the seed of AA was planted there by a man who told me about AA, which I'd never known about.
I didn't even know what the word alcoholic meant. And he told me that there was an AA meeting, that my type of person should go to that.
[01:20:03]
Because he knew me a short while, but he knew that I had to go. And that there was a bad one. And he had been in that institution before, and he said I was going to go there for ten years, which I expected to get. I was lucky. I only got seven my first time in there. But you see, I needed that time to learn something, because my very first meeting, I went very anonymous. In that prison there, each rank was a different person.
In that prison there, each range of cells was where everybody worked was in certain ranges. And the superintendent of the institution told me I couldn't go to AA because I didn't have enough time. Seven years wasn't enough. So one day I had just moved into this cell, and the guard came along and opened my door and he said, Okay, Smitty, go to your AA meeting. So I went to the AA meeting as Smitty. It wasn't too long after that that poor Smitty died.
But I kept going to the AA meetings there. And you know, I loved AA from the very first meeting, because I found myself. I found what I was looking for. I was a hopeless, helpless drunk. There was no way that anybody could help me. But the day that I screamed for help on that bridge, that's the day my help began. And it's continuing. I want to thank you very much for you people. We have five minutes and five speakers, so that's a minute apiece.
Okay. My name is Maureen. I'm from Brooklyn, New York. I just want to give a little bit of my experiences. I had the privilege of sharing a meeting in Comstock Prison, chairing a meeting there for a while. And I was also asked to speak at Comstock for the Christmas meeting because the woman that was supposed to be there didn't show up. I'd just like to say how I got involved. As I said, I'm from Brooklyn, New York, and I had lost my father.
My father was killed by my brother-in-law in a blackout. Within a 30-day period, my father was killed, my son went to jail after being back and forth five years in trouble, and I lost another friend to the prison system, 43 years old, probably the closest friend I've ever had. But the reason I went to Comstock was because I had so much hate and resentment that it was driving me crazy. I didn't know if I was going to go crazy or I was going to pick up a drink.
And they teach us in the program to pray for people that we can't like. And I had to go to the prison in order to get rid of what I was carrying, and that's exactly what I did, and that's where I left it. I prayed and I prayed. I don't love my brother-in-law any less today than I did then. I also got the courage to go for a high school diploma, which took me about 21 years because I saw the people in prison going to school.
This September I'm registered to go to college. I wouldn't have done either one of those two things if I hadn't gotten the courage. To me, I look at it as those are some of the indirect yets. It's probably the best experience I've ever had in sobriety was to go there and share and to give a little bit. And I got so much more than what I gave. Thank you. Thank you. We've got less than a minute apiece because they cut off the mics of three.
Okay. I'm an alcoholic. My name's Bill. Hi, Bill. I was asking about why we do what we do, and I wanted to share a conversation I had with an inmate one time. He asked me, Bill, how long have you been doing this? And I said about five years. And he said, How many people out there used to be in this group that are in your area? And I said, There's only one that I know. You know how people move on and everything.
And he said, You mean after five years there's only one person sober? And I said, No, man. There's two of us.
[01:25:02]
Then we opened up and we shared, and every time we saw each other, he always said, There's going to be three of us. And I knew he's sober in North Carolina. You know, still sober. And the co-chairman is a guy that spent two years in that group, in our group, and he had the same charges as Leroy, and now he's been sober for four years, and he still comes back, and he's the co-chairman, and he's carrying the message.
And it works, and God bless you all. My name is Tookie. I'm an alcoholic. Hi, Tookie. I'm from New York, and I thought all our prisons were in New York. They're all over the world, I guess. I think everybody said everything that I was going to say. I identify heavily with the people who've been in institutions and come back out, and years later go back in to carry the message. My experience was that I had 15 years.
It took me 15 years to go back into this prison that haunted me for 10 years. I had nightmares, and I carried back. I went back into a maximum security prison to carry the message. Only when I was ready. Thank you. I'm Phyllis. I'm an alcoholic, and I'm up here because Ruben challenged me. I'm Canadian. I'm from Toronto. I go to institutions. You know, every time I think it's up to me and I let go and I turn it over to the higher power, he delivers, and we're just about on time.
About 10 minutes ago, I go, oh, my God. I want to hear everybody's story, and we're going to be here until 6. Anyway, we have about a brief moment to not only thank our speakers, Carol, Leroy, and Norm, but also remember this is our birthday that we're celebrating, and let's give a little thanks to each other. Thank you for keeping me sober. We have a good way of closing for those who care to join.
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. Keep coming back.