Alan’s Testimony – Why I Started Drinking

Alan Hamilton - Back in the Trailer Park

“Okay,” he continued when the mike was settled.  “I’m going to start by telling you right out the gate… what I say is my experience only.  If you want to know what this program’s about, you read the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous.

“With that said… Is there anybody here who ever felt so much fear, they didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning?  Raise your hand.”

Nearly everyone in the room lifted their hands.

“Very good.  Is there anyone here who’s ever drank so much booze, they couldn’t get out of bed?  Raise your hand.”

Again, a large majority of hands went up.

“Has anyone ever crashed their hang glider over a hundred times and lived to walk away from it?  Raise your hand.”

Raised hands disappeared while some people sniggered uncertainly. Surely, he wasn’t serious.

“Anybody ever drank Wild Turkey at eighty feet below the water while scuba diving?  Raise your hand.”

This time, people looked around wondering if anyone would raise their hands.

No one did.

“Anyone here ever rolled their truck at 80 miles an hour and lived to walk away from it?  Raise your hand…”  This time hands shot into the air and Alan leered knowingly.  “Alright – we got some takers on that one.

“Is there anyone here that alcohol messed up their life so bad, they didn’t want to live no more?  Raise your hand.”

Up went the hands.

“Has anyone ever pulled their parachute three times at terminal velocity while skydiving and lived to talk about it?  Raise your hand.”

Just as before, hands disappeared.

“Well if you notice, newcomers, it’s not so much about what we did… it’s the feelings we share.  That’s what we have in common around here.  We all did different things.  The things I mentioned are things that I have done personally.  And that includes the feelings.

“I’ll start a little bit at the beginning.  I was born in Oakland and I was a Navy Brat.  My daddy was a sailor; my momma was a housewife.  Daddy was a Republican; Momma was a Democrat.  Daddy was a Baptist; Momma was a Catholic.  And neither of them were alcoholics.

“I have two brothers and a sister, and none of them show symptoms of alcoholism – only me.  I’m the black sheep of the family.

“So that was my upbringing.  My family was a very poor and loving family, and my parents didn’t have much in common.  But the one thing they did have in common was love.  My parents were both very loving and caring people.

“But… on April 8^th, 1972… God called my daddy home.  He took my hero.  He took the man I looked up too.”  His voice cracked as he stated this, his eyes glistening with an ache that had never dissipated… even after 36 years.  When he tried to clear the sudden lump in his throat, his Adams apple bobbed madly.

The crowd could feel his pain.

“That was a month after I turned sixteen years old,” he continued.  “And that day… I got angry at God.  I got furious at Him for taking my hero.

“So on April 9^th, I got plastered. Totally plastered.  I got me some booze, got me some pot… and I went out in the lemon orchard and just did it up.  Before then, I had chipped away at drugs and alcohol, but I had never really done anything that bad.  I had never gotten that drunk or out of control.  But on that day – April 9^th – I told God I wanted nothing to do with Him anymore.

“See, I knew about God.  I was raised Catholic and Baptist.  I spent two years as an altar boy, two years at Missionary Bible School, four years at Catholic School, two years of Catechism – all that crap.  But regardless… the day God took my daddy was the day I turned my back on Him.

“And then, in my genius way of thinking, I figured I’d do everything God didn’t like.  So then I thought: ‘What does God not like?’

“Well, I knew you weren’t supposed to get drunk; that was in the Bible.  So I said, ‘From now on, I’m gonna get drunk and I’m gonna get loaded.  I’m gonna chase women and just have a great life.’ I already knew I was gonna be a Post-Toasty, so why worry about it?

“You see, I wasn’t mad at people.  I was mad at God.  So I didn’t take my anger out on people; I took my anger out on God.

“And that’s what I proceeded do.  I proceeded to do all these things I knew God didn’t like because I wanted to – because it didn’t matter.  I got out of high school and I learned how to hang glide.  I learned how to drink and smoke pot while I was hang gliding.  And I used to fly loaded.  I’d take a few magic mushrooms and go flying off Rincon… try to hit the beach.”  He chuckled at his past stupidity.  “In fact, in hang gliding, they used to call me Bonsai.”  He crooned the nickname proudly.  “They also called me Kamikaze… because I had more successful crashes than any Kamikaze pilot ever had in World War II.

“You see, people… I’m dual diagnosed.  My drug of choice is more…”
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