My son continues to play a major role in my ongoing recovery by giving my life greater purpose. Darryl has been the one constant in my sobriety, because no matter what, he deserves a sober dad. My father’s suicide taught me how vital good parenting is and how I need to be there for my son. When I’m around Darryl, I understand just how pure life can be and how easily I could have missed the opportunity to watch him grow up. Being around for him has been worth every second.

When Jen and I decided to have a child, I hoped being a father would save my life. Before then, we were both out of control. In motherhood, Jen immediately became more responsible. My problems were more deeply rooted, and my toxic body and mind required more years of desperate living before I finally surrendered.

One time I was at a twelve-step meeting where a man with twenty-five years of sobriety talked about how in the first thousand days, a person is still a newcomer. It takes about that long for a person’s mind and body to fully comprehend sobriety, and it’s normal for newcomers to be full of mixed up emotions. At eighteen months sober, I sometimes felt like a brand new baby and at others like a wily veteran.

It took me six years of being a drunken daddy and eighteen months as a sober one to realize that children are truly our most precious gifts from God. My son and I spend enormous amounts of time together. While I’m with him, I sometimes see myself as a loving, beautiful man; at other times, I’m a chaotic madman with a messed-up brain. The big difference is that I now recognize my shortcomings. I’m learning to be the man and father God wants me to be.

One day it was my turn to take Darryl to see his asthma doctor. I picked him up at school with his usual snack of cookies and juice.

“Hi, Daddy, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m here to take you to the doctor, remember?”

“What are they gonna do?”

“You’re worrying about taking a shot, aren’t you? It’s just a checkup. They’ll check your breathing. No shots, bud.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

We arrived a few minutes early, so we sat in the car while I helped him with his math homework. It was a beautiful October day, unseasonably warm with the leaves bursting with color. I was with my seven-year-old son being a responsible, sober dad. Life was good. I thanked God I had made it that far.

Inside, the office was packed with kids. A nurse called us into an examination room. The doctor came in and asked a few questions about Darryl’s breathing and medication and listened to his lungs. I noticed a sign that said something about “flu shots,” and suddenly realized why the place was so busy.

Before I could ask about it, the doctor said, “His lungs sound good. We’ll test his breathing. Also, I’d like him to take a flu shot while he’s here.”

Darryl heard the word “shot” and looked me squarely in the eyes.

“You said I wasn’t taking a shot today, Daddy!” The tears started to come.

“I know, honey. Daddy didn’t know they were giving flu shots today. You need one because of your asthma.”

He put his arms around me and cried. I was deeply touched; somebody in this world needed me to protect him, to tell him it was going to be all right. Somehow, he knew I would. I almost cried with him. It was another moment when I realized God was showing me something important.

“It’ll be okay, buddy. They give smaller shots these days. You’ll hardly feel it.”

That was the best white lie I could come up with on the spot. The nurse reassured Darryl that they had a new device that presses the skin right before the shot to dull the nerves. Sure enough, he did fine. It was the first shot since his birth that I was enough in touch with my feelings to understand that this little boy needed me and trusted me with his well-being. I wouldn’t let him down. But I still had more to learn.

A few weeks later, I asked Darryl if he wanted to help me put up a new toilet paper holder. He liked home projects; Bob the Builder was a favorite cartoon character. We gathered the necessary tools, and I explained about the need to do things safely.

“Shouldn’t we be wearing our glasses?”

“You’re right! Go grab some for both of us.”

I laughed to myself. I had been trained on supertankers for twenty years to wear safety glasses, and here my kid was reminding me not to use a drill before donning some. 

“This is the drill, and these are the drill bits,” I explained after we put on the glasses. “First we pick a size a little smaller than the screws, so when we drill the hole the screw will be tight.”

“Okay, Daddy. How about that one?”

“That one looks a little big. Let’s try this one.” I showed him how to tighten the bit with a drill chuck and how to reverse the drill.

“That’s the righty tighty, lefty loosey rule. Right, Daddy?”

“That’s exactly right. Good job, bud.”

I drilled the holes and mounted the first bracket. I eyeballed the second bracket as Darryl watched.

“Aren’t you gonna use the measuring tape?” he asked.

“No, I think that’s good enough.”

After the second bracket was mounted, Darryl watched as I tried to fit a toilet paper roll into the two brackets. It wasn’t wide enough.

Oh, the words you hear come out of a babe’s mouth. I knew they were coming, but didn’t expect him to be so eloquent: “I told you, Daddy, to measure it. Sometimes grownups don’t listen to kids. Kids have brains too, and sometimes they’re right!”

I laughed. I couldn’t believe my attempt to eyeball the distance had been so far off or that my son was reminding me about safety and advising me to use a tape measure. Our time together had proved more fruitful than I had imagined. I looked lovingly at my son. He was a godsend. God, I promise to do my very best each and every day. Thank you, God. Thank you, Jesus.

That year Halloween was another day when watching a child’s excitement was a beautiful thing. Jen brought Darryl over after school, and we hung out and did homework. Darryl cut out eyes and used a marker to make a mouth on an old white sheet. Jen helped him get into his ghost costume. He popped out with a loud “Boo!” Jen and I laughed.

Darryl and Jen had candy duty. Darryl’s friends came by, and he handed them one piece each. After they left, I laughed and asked him why he didn’t just give them a handful; we had plenty. I wasn’t sure if he was showing his friends who had control of the candy situation or if he had ideas about eating all the leftovers.

We had fun looking at costumes, talking to parents, and remembering when we were kids. Before Darryl left with Jen to trick-or-treat, I gave his costume a tug and kissed him goodbye through the eyehole. I told him I loved him, he said he loved me too, and off he went.

Just a few short years before, I had spent Halloween a bit differently. I was drinking Budweiser, dressed in a T-shirt that said “Yankees Suck.” Darryl and Jen came by. When the doorbell rang I suddenly realized I might be dressed inappropriately. The beer in my hand might not be the best example for greeting the neighborhood trick-or-treaters. I quickly turned my shirt inside out, hid the beer, and pretended not to be under the influence. How things have changed. Thank you, God. Thank you, Jesus.

Of course, I’m still a work in progress. One time I raised my voice to Darryl after he didn’t respond to my call to come to dinner. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, besides being allowed by his parents to watch too much TV. I threatened to take his TV away if didn’t pay attention to Mom and Dad. He started to cry.

I lost my temper because I’m ill, which means I have to work that much harder to remain even-tempered. Just as a person healing from a catastrophic injury might have to relearn how to walk, I’m relearning how to live life.

After raising my voice and making him cry, I went and held my little boy. I explained that some TV is okay, but too much of anything is bad.

“Sometimes you get focused on TV and nothing else,” I said. “And that’s not good for your little brain.”

Hardcore alcoholics—whether they’re under the influence or sporting a hangover, especially a cocaine hangover—use TV to keep their kids out of the way and to remove the nuisance. Now that I’m sober, I don’t use TV as a babysitter. Instead, I’m more aware how parents can both positively and negatively affect a child’s development. I’m also aware that I’m fighting my demons not only for myself, but also for my son and family.

At dinner, I told Darryl I was sorry. “Daddy is still trying to get well from drinking beer. You need to listen to Mommy and me, but no matter what, we’ll always love you.” I promised to do my best not to raise my voice and instead talk about what upset me.

Darryl said he understood and acted as though nothing unusual had happened. After dinner, I asked him to get out his Cub Scout Wolf Handbook. He had a lot to do to earn his Bobcat badge. I had done it as a boy, but didn’t remember the details.

We lay down on the couch and practiced the Cub Scout promise. He had already practiced it with Jen. After a little more studying, he pledged: “I, Darryl Hagar the Second, promise to do my best, to do my duty to God and my country, to help other people, and to obey the law of the pack.”

I was full of emotion. Was this doing him more good—or me?

I was learning what I had missed in Darryl’s early years: how to participate in my son’s life. Although I believe I was born with a propensity for addiction, I had been a willing participant. It was only when the pain outweighed the pleasure that I considered getting help. Booze and drugs had ruled my decision-making. My disease had told me that without continual excitement and chaos I’d be bored. I’m thankful that God stepped in and gave me an opportunity to slow down and be there for my son.

One night while I was attending a Bob Dylan concert, Darryl left an “important” message on my answering machine about losing a tooth. I was already on cloud nine from seeing an American legend in concert, and my son’s message just confirmed to me what I already knew: I never want to go back to my old way of living.

Not long afterward, Darryl and I were headed to bed one night. He asked if we could practice blowing bubbles with chewing gum, having tried many times without success. After a few minutes, he magically started to blow his first bubbles. His missing tooth must have played a role. He laughed hysterically after blowing each bubble. It was a treasure watching his pure delight in that small accomplishment. God, how can such a simple thing bring a dad such joy?

 

 

 

Students Against Drunk Driving is a peer-advocacy group for high school and college students that supports responsible alcohol use for those over the age of 21, and complete abstinence for those under the legal drinking age.

 

SADD has also compiled enough data on the subject of teen drinking, driving under the influence and senseless death and needless injury. When you’re 18 years old, you don’t think about death, but after a couple of brewskis, death can easily happen to you or someone else. Don’t let it happen to you.

 

Check out the sad facts from SADD:

There are plenty of numbers to support what we all recognize using simple, common sense. Young drivers are inexperienced drivers. They’re also inexperienced drinkers. A beer may not affect an older drinker, but for the first-time 15 year-old drinker, a single beer impairs motor skills and, more importantly, judgment.

 

Substance abuse education begins in the earliest grades these days. Students in first grade are taught about the dangers of alcohol, drug and tobacco in age-appropriate ways. And the subject of substance abuse remains a part of the curriculum throughout school, actually intensifying during the high school years.

 

And this education and awareness campaign has delivered quantifiable results. Again, from SADD:

Good numbers, all. Numbers that show a couple of important trends. Kids continue to drink. It’s seen as one of many rites of passage. Peer pressure is a constant motivator to engage in dangerous practices like binge drinking, which can lead to alcohol poisoning and death, and driving under the influence – another danger for the driver, passengers and those innocent victims who share the road with impaired teens tearing down the back roads on prom night.

 

Much of the burden of substance abuse education has fallen on schools. These institutions are in an excellent position to keep the issue alive and in front of students – our sons and daughters.

 

So, support substance abuse education and awareness in your community school system. Ask for a copy of the substance abuse curriculum – the actual course of study, including what gets taught when and what the behavioral objectives of each substance abuse class are expected. In other words, how will my child be different before taking a substance abuse class than after taking the class. It’s all about shaping attitudes and instilling a strong sense of personal responsibility.

 

The program, at least at the high school level, should also introduce cause and effect thinking – weighing consequences to actions before the youngster takes part in dangerous activities.

 

Parents are the model for teen behavior. If you’re telling your teen to stay away from tobacco as you’re puffing away, the message doesn’t have much impact on the child. The fact is, your children model their behaviors after you and your spouse.

 

If parents drink, or abuse alcohol, the children in the home will learn this behavior, even if they don’t put it into practice right away. If parents drink and drive, the kids will follow right along.

 

If drug abuse occurs in the house, the children will learn how to roll a dube before they’re 12 years old, after seeing mom and dad do it a few thousand times.

 

So, the most effective thing parents can do is to serve as role models. Be what you want your children to be.

 

Next, some parents actually condone teen drinking under certain conditions. In some affluent communities, parents know their children are attending parties where alcohol will be served. However, the adult hosts take all car keys from the young party-goers who then have a sleep-over after a beer blast.

 

This, obviously sends the wrong message to kids – that drinking is accepted and acceptable. Not true.

 

Parents should not condone teen drinking and should recognize the real dangers the problems present – life-threatening, unnecessarily tragic consequences. This means (1) parents never hold one of these drinking parties and (2) parents contact the adult host to determine whether alcohol will be served. If yes, your kid stays home. That sends the right signal. The right message.

 

Parents should discuss substance abuse regularly, even if the kids roll their eyes and whine, “Not again!” You may not think they’re listening to you – getting the message that drinking, DUI, binge drinking, drug use or tobacco use just aren’t acceptable practices in the home.

 

Schools can do a great deal more to improve a bad situation by keeping substance abuse education on-going, from elementary grades through high school graduation. On university campuses, substance abuse counseling should be made available without any repercussions to the student. If a student is courageous enough to admit to the need for help, s/he should not be penalized. These souls seeking help should be praised and encouraged.

 

Eventually, with parents and teachers working in tandem to raise awareness of the health dangers of abusing alcohol, drugs and tobacco, the message becomes part of the individual’s personality. They do listen.

 

Encourage your community schools to expand this area of the curriculum and make it core curriculum for high school students. Also encourage your schools to provide training for parents.

 

Many parents don’t know how to react to substance abuse. Some adopt the old “I’d rather have him smoking pot in his room where I can keep an eye on him rather than driving around.” What???

 

Wrong message, mom or dad.

 

 

 

Enlistees in the U.S. military expect to lead a disciplined life, respecting the honor and traditions of their service branch. Unfortunately, one of those time-honored traditions is substance abuse – and plenty of it.

 

Staff Sgt. Kathleen T. Rhem from the Armed Forces Press Service put out these numbers, and if this doesn’t sound Reveille in the minds of military brass, nothing well. Check it out:

 

 

 

 

 

These figures are based on alcohol abuse alone. When you factor in the use of pot, speed, coke, crack and other abused substances, you begin to develop a clearer picture of just how widespread the substance abuse problem is in the branches of military service.

 

Too many to list in this short piece, but some of the more obvious liabilities occur in work areas where information or ordinance is the target of the enemy.

 

For example, would you want a substance impaired director manning the flight deck of an aircraft carrier? How about the guy who’s hooking up a 5K bunker buster, or the radar operator who misses some incoming because she nodded off.

 

Indeed, not all liability is so dramatic with exploding ordinance and other tragedies. But today’s military is on the move. That’s why military officials are seeing more DUI infractions. No different from the civilian population. But when you add the danger layer of live ordinance and your buddy working next to you, workplace substance abuse does take on a life or death aspect.

 

So, what steps can military officials take to help mitigate the substance abuse problems in the service. The plan has already been launched with much fanfare and success. 

 

Recognizing that the problem is NOT going away, Defense has begun an aggressive campaign to get alcohol and substance abuse under control, not just to save the costs of caring for abusers and their family, but to save lives.

 

In areas of combat, stress is the norm. Danger and death are possible with every IED roadside. So, when these combat vets get some R & R, they tend to let loose big time. Binge drinking is common in these situations – something that can very quickly turn to a daily drinking problem.

 

Lt. Col. Wayne Talcott, an Air Force psychologist, who’s also co-chair of the substance abuse reduction committee, put it like this: “We’re trying to prevent [our] people from having to see a specialist [in substance abuse treatment]. If you want to decrease prevalence, you need to have policies and programs in place across the spectrum to discourage heavy drinking.”

 

The colonel continued, “…the committee wants to help service members understand the liabilities associated with heavy drinking.”

 

And the liabilities, especially in critical service positions can mean the difference between life and death. Incidences of DUI, suicides, crimes and domestic violence skyrocket when alcohol is involved and the military is going totally pro-active in providing counseling and education to raise awareness of the dangers of heavy drinking both short- and long-term.

 

In the past, the military has offered a series of programs to educate the serviceperson on the dangers of alcohol and substance abuse – a practice that’s been going on for as long as there have been militaries. The services’ current approach takes a different tact.

 

Lt. Col. Talcott explains, “This is very different from previous approaches. You typically have program offices that largely are designed to treat people [who already have] alcohol problems.

 

Rather than waiting for people to develop severe problems, we want to build into the system ways to get the right messages to help our young people make better decisions about their drinking behavior.

 

It’s not the use, it’s alcohol abuse that gets people into trouble,” Talcott concluded

 

Substance abuse in the workplace is a serious, all-too-common problem. And whether you’re the company owner, business CEO, head of the company’s HR or a floor supervisor, guess what? It’s your all-too-common problem.

 

Whether you employ a friendly staff of five or have 5,000 employees around the globe, substance abuse on the job is costing you money and creating liabilities that your company just doesn’t need. Check out these “sobering” facts:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still think it’s somebody else’s problem? If your co-worker is drunk, you’re more likely to get injured on the job. That makes it your problem.

 

If you’re a company owner, don’t you owe it to your employees, your investors and your future to run a clean shop?

 

Nightmare scenario: one of your floor employees is seriously injured as the result of negligence on the part of a coworker. And it’s subsequently determined that the offending employee has a blood alcohol level of .016 – double the limit for driving.

 

 

 

 

Not only do you have to contend with the sadness of losing a valued employee and the earnings s/he creates for the company, you’ve exposed the corporation to a liability lawsuit for allowing the intoxicated worker to even be on the work floor.

 

Workman comp suits, personal and business liability, the loss of a valued (and totally innocent) employee, lawyers, legalities and a ton – a ton – of cash out the door.

 

Whenever one of your employees is substance impaired, you open your business to the risk of liability – and that could well mean the end of the business altogether.

 

So, how do you keep the substance-impaired tech away from that $12 million mainframe?

 

Start with all new hires. When you place a classified for new employees, whether assembly line workers or a six-figure-income financial VP, make it clear from day one that yours is a drug-free workplace. (BTW, just because the six-figure-income guy wears an $800 suit doesn’t mean he’s clean and sober. He could be snorting coke in the bathroom for all you know!)

 

If the new hire, going in, understands the rules, he or she is more likely to play by the rules.

 

If your company doesn’t have a substance abuse policy, it’s time to draw one up. The policy should be simple, unambiguous and posted on every bulletin board from the break room to the time clock.

 

Yes.

 

There’s debate in the human resources community about drug testing. Some experts believe it undermines moral. Others believe it’s absolutely essential. I fall into the latter group.

 

Not only is random drug testing in the workplace a good idea, it’s also sound business practice, a low-cost insurance policy and a productivity booster all in one. There may be some who object. There will be those who believe drug testing is an invasion of privacy. But you not only have a right to hire and use clean and sober employees, you have an obligation to the other employees to create a safe working environment.

 

A vigorous, on-going substance abuse program is essential in today’s competitive business community. You need every advantage you can garner. Drug and alcohol testing delivers the advantage you’re looking for.

 

Can you afford to lose a key employee?

 

Consider this: human resources professionals claim that it costs a mid-level company $20K to replace a middle manager. That’s head-hunting fees, interviews and resumes and, of course, lost productivity as the replacement learns the ropes.

 

So what can you, the small- to mid-sized business owner, do when you discover a substance abuse problem in your company, whether in the boardroom or stock room?

 

Some companies maintain a zero tolerance policy, but that’s self-defeating. It may lessen substance abuse among employees but it also makes it impossible to keep a critical cog in the machinery while maintaining that zero tolerance policy.

 

I think it’s more productive for both employer and employee if the business implements a “one strike and your out” policy. If a valued employee is found to have a substance abuse problem, he or she, according to stated and printed company policy, must attend substance abuse counseling and agree to more frequent, vigorous testing.

 

If the employee agrees to these terms, your have a better educated staff member, one who has experienced the failure of a substance abuse test, and an employee who already knows the job inside and out.

 

Conversely, if the employee rejects the offer of help and education, s/he gets the boot. Okay, you can make one mistake (strike one) and accept help, but there ain’t going to be a strike two.

 

Abuse. Refuse help. You lose…your job. 

 

 

There’s a well-known stereotype, propagated by Hollywood, of the abusive, alcoholic husband/father. The fact is, any family member can become addicted to alcohol or drugs or tobacco. No problem. For most of us, if we do something three times it becomes a habit that quickly becomes an addiction.

 

The extent of the emotional and psychic damage visited upon a family varies with the seriousness and extent of the problem. But, let there be no doubt, the impact is not a good one.

 

First, it’s stressful living with an alcoholic. As a family member, you never know when the abuser is going to fly into a rage or engage in incoherent babble. The alcoholic is the 800-pound gorilla at the table and all diners know it.

 

Second, living with an alcoholic is sad. The drug removes the victim from the rest of the family. How often does the drinker come home from a rough day at the office and head straight to bed. In many ways, the alcoholic becomes unapproachable. In fact, in the worst cases, this once-beloved family member is to be avoided.

 

Finally, there’s the financial and quality of life questions. That alcoholic is NOT going to progress up the promotion ladder at work. It’s hard, if not impossible, to hide a severe alcohol addiction no matter how many mints you suck on. That’s going to limit the family’s quality of life. Fewer vacations (if any), smaller house, no money for college. You could make a list. A long one.

 

Those living with an alcoholic enable that drinker to keep up his or her addiction. Often, they purchase the alcohol (a case of vodka), they allow the alcoholic to get away with unacceptable social behavior, the turn a blind eye to physical or sexual abuse. No one wants to be the one to step in, take a stand and say “Enough!”

 

Look, this isn’t about the limitations of enablers. Most are just trying to keep a bad situation from blowing all out of proportion. They’re victims, just as much as the alcoholic is. And as victims, the members of the family living with an alcoholic have some options.

 

There are no options here except “Get out of the house.” If there are signs, suggestions or downright accusations (throw in first-hand experience, too), you must leave the house. Substance abuse use increases and along with it, physical, emotional and sexual abuse. If the situation is intolerable and you and the other members of the family are in danger, you must move to a safe place. Even a battered women’s refuge.

1. How bad is the problem? If the alcoholic drives, drives the family, is abusive or threatening, seek immediate help. Don’t put your family in danger.

 

2. You are helpless. You can not fix the problem no matter how many “talks” you have and how many promises are made. It’s a problem in your life but it’s not your problem.

 

3. It’s the alcoholic’s problem and no matter how much you plead, cajole, nag or threaten, the only one who can fix the problem is the victim and the source of the family’s heartache.

 

4. Don’t go it alone. There are numerous support groups for those who live with alcoholism everyday. By simply sharing your pain with those who immediately sympathize is very comforting. It’s also reassuring to know that this is not your fault. It’s something you need to hear often.

You may not be able to change the behavior of the alcoholic but you sure as heck can change your attitudes about this family member.

 

Programs and support groups like AlAnon, for spouses of alcoholics, and Al-a-Teen, for children of alcoholics, do tremendous good in helping these individuals recognize the source of the problem (it’s not you), provide coping mechanisms and tactics (go to the mall if things get unpleasant) and teach how to stop enabling.

 

To stop enabling takes courage and the recognition by all parties that there’s a problem that’s gotten out of hand. And interestingly enough, once other family members begin seeking counsel, the alcoholic comes to the realization that his or her behavior has a negative impact on loved ones and often seeks treatment, as well.

 

Alcoholism is on the rise. Kids, younger and younger, are having their first experience with alcohol. It’s easy to get (even for 5^th graders) and it’s a gate way drug. Kids who drink alcohol early are more likely to experiment and use other drugs shortly.

 

There is no “cure” for alcoholism and, indeed, it is a disease. However, you and the members of your family can take steps to lessen the impact the alcoholic family member has on your quality of life.

 

Help is out there. Just ask.

Bush Talks of Past Addiction
President Shares Personal Insights With Ex-Prisoners

BALTIMORE , Jan. 29 — President Bush plopped himself into a chair between two former prisoners, Thomas Boyd and Adolphus Moseley, and asked to hear how their lives had changed. But first, he wanted them to know something about him: "I understand addiction," he said, "and I understand how a changed heart can help you deal with addiction."

 

By his own account, Darryl Hagar, 44, has been to Hell and back, and by his own doing. Hagar, now sober for three years, spent more than 23 years as a high-functioning alcoholic and cocaine abuser. Hagar has joined with illustrator Glenn Chadbourne of Newcastle, and is self-publishing his own story, initially in graphic memoir form, in the hopes he can help other substance abusers stay clean and sober.

Unlike many substance abusers, money wasn’t a problem for Hagar. After graduating from Lincoln Academy, Newcastle, he attended the Maine Maritime Academy and graduated to become a maritime navigator, holding a U.S. Coast Guard Chief Mate License, working on tankers and ships as large as 900 feet long, while circumnavigating the world.

Unfortunately, beginning with his early college years, Hagar spent much of his time “partying, drinking and drugging,” behavior that continued while onboard ship and in ports-of-call around the world.

Hagar said his downward spiral began with the suicide of his father. “Back then, nobody asked if I was alright after my father stuck a gun in his mouth,” said Hagar. “Today, a kid hits a pole, and the whole school gets therapy.” Aside from the pain of his father’s death, Hagar claims, “For whatever reason, growing up in Maine, it is cool to party.”

Hagar explained he plans a series of up to 20 issues, each to include two real life stories from his memoir called “The Man Overboard,” to be released in fall of 2008 by self-publishing house I-Universe in Iowa.

The memoir is raw, disturbing and most definitely not for young audiences. Hagar hopes to, through his admittedly dangerous behaviors, teach others struggling with addiction issues. His first graphic memoir depicts underage drinking, drunken driving, totaling family cars and damaging personal property, fights in bars, and frequenting houses of prostitution. Hagar states unequivocally his story does not promote addictive behaviors as evidenced by his including “possible outcomes;” sections which portray consequences Hagar did not have to bear, but might have.

“How can I teach people to change unless I tell all my dirt?” asked Hagar.

To questions about how women are depicted in the story, Hagar said the stories are from his point of view, but did say in future issues women will see stories to which they can relate.

In the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez, an oil spill accident directly related to alcohol consumption on a supertanker, Hagar stated drinking is strictly curtailed onboard ships as a result. However, when in a port such as Singapore, Hagar writes he was drunk most nights and, “as long as you got up for work the next day, you’d be fine.”

“I personally think alcoholism and addiction is a disease, and something my brothers don’t have but I do,” said Hagar of his family. After so many years of upheaval, Hagar’s family is fully supportive of his memoir writing. “We are a close family,” said nephew Justin Hagar. “We are all really behind him, supportive and proud.”

Living in Portland, Hagar spends much of his time doing service work. He’s attended more than 300 12 STEP meetings in the last two years, and voluntarily helps addicts in the Mercy Hospital Recovery Center, speaks with inmates at the Cumberland County Jail and Maine Correctional Center. He also hopes to “talk to the college market. Drugs and alcoholism is a dirty subject. I’m still paying for it. I’ve just been diagnosed with diabetes,” said Hagar.

Self-financed all the way, Hagar has traveled to Washington, D.C. to speak with Maine Senators Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins, expects to hold interviews about “The Man Overboard”, “in all the big markets and I will pay to get morning air time. I took my severance and I’ve sunk $150,000 in this and I’m working like crazy to get this money back.” He plans to create audio products and other alcohol prevention materials.

For more information, see the website www.themanoverboard.com, with a blog available at the site, or write info@themanoverboard.com. Hagar said “The Man Overboard” would be available at The Village Store in Nobleboro, Big Dave’s and Supplies Unlimited in Damariscotta, The Lincoln County News and Mike’s Place in Newcastle.

I decided to go into the jail today and conduct a 12 step meeting. I had missed a few weeks because of prior commitments and felt the need to go do some good service work. When I got there, not one other guy was there. We needed 6 men to cover the Pods and so far only me. After a short time 2 women showed up and one other man. There is only one woman’s pod and all the women, usually 2, go conduct a 12 step meeting in that pod. It is always same sex meetings in the jail which is best.

Since there were only 2 of us men, several of the pods would have to go without. This happens from time to time. That’s why volunteerism and service work is so vital. Not only does it give the inmates an opportunity to discuss drugs and alcoholism, it gives people like me a chance to give back and this service work is proven to be a key part in staying sober. When I go into the jails and prisons, I always appreciate the fact that I’ve changed my life and if I don’t stay sober, I could be right back in this jail or other institutions. Every time I come into the facilties, I see and hear things that make me realize why I got sober in the first place. My partner and I split up and I went into one of the C pods. I signed in and the deputy announced a 12 step meeting. Nobody seemed interested and I told him if nobody was going to participate, I would go over to C3 pod.

I was let out and walked over to C3 and the central door operator clicked me in.

As I signed in, I realized that God had a plan for this evening. One of my old cocaine buddies ran up to me and gave me a big bear hug. My buddy was known as bull dog and he was one bad dude. He was the nicest guy in the world with a very healthy cocaine problem. He was also known as one of the toughest and baddest guys in Portland,Maine and not many people messed with him. His only problem was he couldn’t get off the coke. Bull dog and I had spent many many nights smoking crack, snorting big fat lines of cocaine, chasing women, smoking weed and getting shitfaced on booze. We were like 2 peas in a pod and he had been my cocaine connection for a long time. Whenever I needed some, I would call him up and he would score it. Usually what would happen was he would bring it over to my house and we would supposedly just do one or two lines but a couple of eight balls later we would be peeking out the window, hearing somebody knock on the door with nobody there, and being paranoid out of our minds that the cops would show up at any time.

I had not experienced knowing anybody in jail since I had been doing these 12 step meetings, and certainly wasn’t expecting to run a meeting with my old cocaine dealer in attendance. Like I said, God had a plan and I ran the meeting like I always did. About 8 to 10 inmates came in and sat down and although I didn’t get into details, I introduced myself as Darryl the alcoholic and that I knew bull dog very well. I didn’t talk about any of our war stories together but told them about my drinking, my drug use, and how each had progressed to a point where my life was spinning out of control. I told them about my numerous Operating Under the Influence while operating a motor vehicle conviction and how I had gotten out of 3 or 4 of the same. Bull dog was watching and listening to me very closely. He had only seen the other side of me and I suspect he was surprised at my 16 months of sobriety. The two times I had seen him in that time, both times he said he wondered if I was able to stay sober and clean.

Theres nothing like the power of example. He told me he was sick of his drug and alcohol abuse and he wanted to change more than anything. He had been in jail a few months before and I had called his dad up to ask him how long he was going to be in jail. I told his dad I was conducting 12 step meetings at the jail and I was worried about his son. I also told him I was sober for well over a year and I thought I could help his son. His dad wasn’t sure how long or even if he was still in jail and before I had got down to visit him, he had been released. He never knew I had asked his dad about him. His father was not talking to him because of his most recent cocaine conviction and his father had either given up on him or was showing him some tough love.

Bull dog was surprised that I had contacted his father and that I cared enough about him to talk to his family. I could tell it meant a lot to him and I knew I could make a difference in my friend’s life and many others if I could toe the line, get certified as a drug and alcohol counselor, and seek out men with substance abuse problems. I knew God was working in my life when nobody showed up at the first pod and when I went to the second pod, my personal cocaine dealer was scared, lonely, and admitting that he needed my help.

I continued to run the meeting telling the prisoners some of my crazy drunken stories and told them that I believed if they wanted to get clean and sober, they needed to ask God for help. I told them the story about my alcohol cravings when I first got sober. I was consumed with thinking about alcohol. Every beer store I passed, every alcohol commercial on TV, even certain smells reminded me of smoking crack and I would think about that first hit and how good it would taste. I told the inmates that in my first few months, I would look in the mirror and say to myself, Man; you’re fucking nuts.

I had never told myself in the mirror that. Not When I had run over 5 cars one night, not when I told a gay guy I would fuck him in the ass, break him in half, and throw him in San Francisco Bay. Not even when I had eaten out a chick having her period and looked in the mirror at the blood on my face and chest. I told the inmates only after a few months of sobriety and cravings that could kill a horse, did I look in the mirror and say to myself, you’re fucking nuts. That moment of a few months of sobriety and cravings that were consuming me, did I tell myself I was fucking nuts in the mirror. I told them that I don’t know what to think of people who talk about miracles, but I experienced one in that time period. I walked away from the mirror, I got on my knees in front of my couch in the living room, and I prayed to God to take away these cravings for booze. I told God that if he would do that one thing, that I would deal with all the other baggage in my life, but to please remove that burden from me. I stayed sober and after a week had gone by, I noticed something. I hadn’t thought about drinking all the time, I hadn’t been craving alcohol every minute of the day and I hadn’t even noticed. I thought back to my prayer to God and because I lived it, I knew that a miracle had happened to me. My obsessions and cravings to drink alcohol and to snort cocaine had been lifted.

I told the inmates that I wasn’t a Bible thumper and if it hadn’t happened to me, I would be hesitant to believe that story. I assured them that God works in many ways and he certainly would help them. The wise still seek him. Bull dog started to tell the rest of the inmates his story and how fucked up his life was. I smiled to myself because he was getting to the point where I had reached, the point of desperation. The power of desperation is real and true and when people reach it and are offered help, the chances of them changing are greatly improved.

I wrapped the 12 step meeting up and one man came up to me and said, where would I live, where would I go. I told him the Salvation Army had beds; they feed and clothe you and send you to 12 step meetings. I told him he would have to work for little or no wages but he would be put in a stable sober environment that would give his recovery a chance to take hold.

Bull dog came up and hugged me. Remember this is a guy that weighs about 220 lbs, is solid steel, bald head, and even the bad asses in Portland wanted nothing to do with him. He asked me if I would be his sponsor when he got out. I told him I would if he was serious about quitting the cocaine and starting a program of recovery. I told him I wouldn’t allow him to drag me down but I would be happy to help him stand up. I told him that i'm in this for the long haul and I would accept no bullshit. He mentioned coincidentally that he was interested in taking classes for drug and alcohol counseling and I encouraged that. I told him that inmates listened and learned from guys with our past and that he could be a great man teaching others the dangers of drug abuse.

We shook hands and I left to go to my public 12 step meeting. I was amazed at what had taken place and almost blew off my other meeting thinking enough is enough. I shook that thought off and walked in to this cathedral where a meeting had already started. Something new and unexpected happened at this meeting also. As I sat down in between this big guy and this younger man, I smelled the strong scent of alcohol. In the 16 months of meetings which numbered well over 250 12 step meetings, I had never seen any one drunk at a meeting. I don’t know why this would surprise me. I remember years ago when I was mandated to meetings, I would show up drunk and high on cocaine. What was the difference? 20 years and a different town were the only differences.

This newcomer young man was quite intoxicated. In this 12 step program that I was involved in, they have a chip club to mark your time in sobriety. Your first day, the day you start a new sober life, you pick up a plastic white chip that says sober on it. When I had first sat down I noticed this young guy already had 2 or 3 white chips in his hands. He was rubbing them together and I now believe he was crying out for help. He was loud and obnoxious and when the meeting paused to give out chips. The chip person said, “Does anyone want a white chip to mark a new way of life?” This young guy sitting next to me drunk, got up and stumbled up to pick up another white chip. He was starving for attention and acting like a good drunk does. He came back to sit down but forgot what row he was sitting in and sat in between different people. After the meeting I saw people talking to him and I said a prayer for him that God would see that he was calling out for help and that hopefully this time this young man would get it.

It was quite the day. I had gotten up and prayed, wrote about fear in my 12 step journal, and had experienced 2 brand new things at two different 12 step meetings. A friend in jail in need who needed cocaine addiction help and a young drunk at the church meeting who needed love and support. I thought to myself, “I bet I will have many many more surprises ahead in dealing with my sobriety and others fighting this horrible disease of addiction.”

A few days went buy and I hadn’t heard from bull dog. I suspected that maybe he had gotten out and gone back to chasing the dragon. He had told me before that he wanted to quit and hadn’t. I knew that when he was ready he would come around again.

The phone rang and sure enough, it was the bulldog. I had seen him on Monday, September 4^th, 2006 which was Labor Day in the jail. He had been detained another day and got out on Weds, September, 6th. He said his dad had gone down to the jail and bailed him out. Apparently the people making decisions was trying to teach him a lesson even though no judge had done any sentencing and they were forced to let him out when his dad insisted what they were doing was illegal.

Bulldog contacted me and was still serious about getting alcohol and drug free. I was skeptical at first but told him that I was talking to my sponsor and I intended on helping and supporting him in every way. I told him to come over to my house the next day and we would talk and go to a 12 step meeting together. The 12 step meeting outside the jail is obviously much different than inside the jail. On the inside, it was just me conducting the meeting with a bunch of inmates that bulldog knew, ate with, and was comfortable with. Totally different story on the outside and he knew it.

Bulldog showed up at my front door right on time and we sat down and talked. I told him that I would sponsor him if he really wanted to get sober, if he was responsible in our program, and if he followed all ground rules. I told him I was going to give him some tough love and it might negatively affect our friendship. Remember, this is a guy that has been in jail dozens of times, has been stabbed, has sold and consumed lots and lots of Cocaine and he didn’t need to be pampered. If he was in fact ready, he would do anything to stay clean and sober. I made the following rules and said if you fail, I’m not sponsoring you, plain and simple.

 

Rule 1:  attend at least one 12 step meeting every day for 3 months. Ninety meetings in ninety days minimum. (Little does he know if he makes it to ninety, I’m going to tell him to do it again.) He’s an advanced stage alcoholic and drug abuser. The more the better.

Rule 2: Work the 12 steps with me writing every day and reading the big book.

Buy a spiral notebook and I would give him things to write about on step one. Step One is admitting to be powerless over alcohol. Bulldog has both a drinking and drug problem but treating them through abstinence, support, meetings, sponsorship, praying, working the 12 steps.

Rule 3: Meet me every week at the same time, reads what he had written to me and we would talk about it. Then we would go to a weekly men’s 12 step meeting where we would specifically talk about the different steps and how to do them. 

Rule 4: Check in at a designated time every day with his father and I to ensure his sobriety and drug free self.

Rule 5:  Write about the 12 step slogans which are helpful in maintaining peace of mind, sobriety, and happiness and bring you closer to God. These are:

 

1.      One day at a time

2.      East does it

3.      Let go and let God

4.      Think, Think, Think

5.      Live and Let Live

6.      Keep it Simple

7.      I see things different

8.      But for the Grace of God

 

Bulldog agreed to follow this program and I told him if he put ½ the work into remaining sober and drug free that he did in getting fucked up, he had a decent shot, one day at a time, of maintaining sobriety and turning his life around.

We headed to a noon time men’s meeting in which I knew would be good for him. I hadn’t attended this particular meeting all summer because my son was always with me while school was out and I looked forward to seeing the men that had assisted me in the beginning of my sobriety. This meeting is held in a different church basement in the heart of downtown Portland and tends to get a lot of professional businessmen on their lunch breaks. It would be good to show my friend that everybody can be drawn into that dark hole of drug abuse and alcoholism. The general public has some misconceptions

of all alcoholics being homeless, hungry, broke, and dirty. This is far from the truth and bulldog was about to see that every walk of life is represented at these 12 step meetings.

We walked in a bit early and guys were filtering in. Bulldog was very uptight and anxious and I could tell he was extremely nervous. There was a young black man playing the piano and he was playing like he belonged at the opera house. His music was unexpected but was soothing, Godly, and amazingly appropriate for the moment. Bulldog settled down a little bit and I started to introduce him to people I knew. I asked one of the old-timers if he was chairing the meeting and he said, “You are, Darryl, if you’d like to.” I replied that I would and started to think about what I could say to help my friend.  

Noon time came and I started the meeting by saying, “Hi everybody, my name’s Darryl, and I’m an alcoholic.” I told them that I was grateful to be back in their presence sober now for 16 months. I looked around and saw many familiar faces, some with business suits and ties, and some with sneakers and sweat pants and others with work clothes splattered with paint or dusty with carpenter’s sawdust. Everything you could imagine in all walks of life. I told the group how well I had been doing. That I was attending four or five 12 step meetings a week, a 2 hr group recovery class weekly, running 12 step meetings now at a jail and a prison and working closely with my sponsor on the steps and my psychotherapists on my head. I told them it was one day at a time but that I was relentlessly perusing my dreams of being a sober, Godly, helpful human being that was still in recovery and always would be.

I talked about how close I was to my son and how the small things in life are all of a sudden important and beautiful. I told them how I have my son’s first tooth that had fallen out stored away in a bag where I could look at it and appreciate his life now as a sober dad. I told them the story of writing out my 4^th step and my son came up to me and said” What are you doing daddy, writing about drinking beer? Can I draw a picture of you when you rolled over Mimi’s car the night you were drunk.” I told the men how I would always remember that and would keep that picture forever knowing that this was a powerful tool in remembering why and how I was able to get clean and sober.

I told the men how I had finally been able to talk to my family about my crazy drinking, my insane drug use, and that I wanted to talk about my father to them finally. I had suppressed all these feelings and emotions and the 12 step program had allowed me to deal with these demons haunting me on a daily basis for the last 23 years.

I told the men that in 16 months I had only taken my son to one 12 step meeting but I had stood in front of over 100 people and told them about our agreement we had made. If Dad quits drinking beer, he would stop sucking his thumb and neither one of us have relapsed. I finished my talk saying that I had brought a close friend to this meeting to ask for their help. I explained how Bulldog and I had spent many many nights smoking a crack pipe, drinking vodka and beer, and that I had run into my former friend in jail and he said he was ready. Bulldog was shifting in his seat next to me but I knew this was all good and very powerful stuff. I told the men that he needed to get their phone numbers for support when needed. I knew they would respond and I opened up the meeting for discussion.

Right away hands went up. Several gentlemen said it was nice to see me and wondered where I had been all summer. Portland has dozens of meetings and I had been all over. One man raised his hand, an old friend, and he talked about how beautiful my son was since he was in the same t-ball league and how far I had come as a man. He assured bulldog that they were there for him and he could grow just as the rest of us had. He also said how important it was to be involved in your own recovery, to get a sponsor, go to meetings, work the steps and do volunteer work. All of this work keeps one clean and sober. Do the work; get the expected results of sobriety. Stop doing the work, the bottle and crack pipe will soon show up. This theory has been tested a thousand times.

I had made the mistake of quitting drugs and alcohol a couple of years ago and telling everybody how serious I was. I gave away all my alcohol, I swore off the drugs, I told my mother how I had seen the light and I was all done. A few days later, I relapsed back to my old ways. I learned an important lesson. Actions speak louder than words and in quitting drugs and alcohol, its better to not make any proclamations and let time in sobriety speak for itself. Proof is in the pudding and I no longer brag about my sobriety. I realize I’m only an arms length away from a drink and I live my life one day at a time.

Another man talked about how we alcoholics suppress our feelings and inner thoughts. He called it stuffing. Stuffing it way down deep inside and if we ignored it long enough, it may go away. We all know what happens to our stuffed baggage. Its like a cancer being allowing to linger, grow and if left untreated, it starts to consume our very being. It takes away our happiness and joy, it takes away our purpose in life, and needs to be identified, talked about, and removed.

Bulldog raised his hand and I was excited to hear him speak. He started sweating and shaking and I wasn’t sure if he would make it through his talk without breaking down and crying. He said he had been to meetings before but never had the courage to talk about himself. He stated that he knew this time was different. If he didn’t get involved, he would slip back to using and he didn’t want any part of that. He told the group about his horrific drug and alcohol use and how he had been thrown back into jail over and over again.

Bulldog told them about last Monday when one of his best Cocaine buyers had walked through the doors of C3 Pod at the Cumberland County Jail to conduct a 12 step meeting and he knew something or someone was happening to change his life. He told the men that a light went on in his brain that now was the time to get serious about his life; this must be a message from God. Seeing me walk through the door while he was in jail, sick and confused on how to proceed, was a signal to him to seize the moment. I told the men that he seized the moment all right; he nearly squeezed the stuffing out of me hugging me that Labor Day night.

Bulldog went on to say that he wanted help; he wanted phone numbers he could call if he was getting the urge to use, drink, or to just call for support. The men were taken back by this big bald headed ex-con begging for help. After bulldog spoke, many hands went up one after the other telling him to exchange numbers after the meeting, how he was in the right place, and to keep coming back.

As the different men were offering my friend support, I noticed he was shaking uncontrollably. I could tell he was trying to control it but was not winning that battle. He had just done the most important thing anyone struggling could do, admit to others that they can’t do it alone, ask for help, and to show some humility. I was very proud of him and felt he had taken the first step in having a decent chance for sobriety.

After the meeting, we both stopped to talk to many different men. Bulldog went off and I saw him collecting lots of different phone numbers. I could see many different men offering him advice, support, and their friendship. We left the meeting and we were both on our own individual pink clouds. I told him that I looked at 12 step meetings as taking my medication. If I didn’t take my medicine, I would get ill and die. If he wanted to get better, he would have to find a meeting every day and he would start to recover. If he skipped his medicine as he started to get better, his disease would come right back. It is exactly what happens when you’re taking anti-biotics. You start to get better and wonder if you need to finish taking the whole scheduled prescription. If  the sick person doesn’t finish the anti-biotic as prescribed, the infectious micro-organism quickly comes back. I told him, unfortunately with alcoholism and drug abuse, we can never stop our treatment for the rest of our lives. Many people with decades of sobriety decide they no longer need to attend 12 step meetings and end up drinking again. Their lives quickly deteriorate back to where they had been been years before.

The experts say you pick up where you left off, back to the ugly days of drunkenness, drug abuse, feelings of worthlessness, and desperation. It sits inside us and tries to get back in and this disease is very, very, patient. I told Bulldog that I had asked this female surgeon what she thought about the 12 step program. She looked at me and said “Darryl, if we in the medical field could take the 12 step program, make it in a pill form and bottle it up, we would have done exactly that many years ago.” I take my medicine willingly and gladly each and every day.

Bulldog told me that many of the men were raving about how far I had come and that he should stay close to me. I told him that I’m just another Bozo on the Bus trying to stay sober and that I’m successful so far because I’m relentless in my recovery. Each and every day I get out of bed, get on my knees, and I say a prayer to God to help keep me away from a drink and drug. I actively participate in my recovery with the meetings and my sponsor, I read about my disease and write about my shortfalls, and I the end of the day, I get back on my knees at the foot of my bed and I thank God for keeping me sober for another day. I told bulldog that I intend to do this routine for the rest of my life. When I start to think about being on vacation in my fifties, being in some warm tropical spot and worrying about drinking, I quickly bring myself back to the present and truly believe if I stay in the present, one day at a time I will stay sober and drug free and when I’m in my later life, I will pass that test that day, one day at a time.

I dropped bulldog off and told him to go and rest, read the big book, and to expect more tomorrow. He called me a few hours later and I told him I had dug up a 12 step meeting list of the different meetings around town each day. I went through and picked out one or two meetings a day for him close to his father’s house. He doesn’t have a driver’s license because of his past. I told him I would not accept that for an excuse not to attend at least one meeting a day. He said no problem and we agreed to meet the following day with a plan for his program of recovery. I realize that Bulldog could easily relapse. I realize that I could easily relapse. I will continue to support him through thick and thin. I hope and pray that his recovery has a chance to take hold, take root, and to grow. If he wobbles I’ll steady him, if he falls, I’ll be there to help him back up.

 

I went to my regular Thursday night 12 step meeting tonight. I hadn’t been for a few weeks and it felt good to go and see some of my original friends in the 12 step program. I walked in and said hello to a bunch of guys and started goofing on people like I do when I’m in a good mood.

 

“Is there a meeting here tonight?” I asked this guy who always jokes around with me.

“Who are you? Oh it’s Darryl, nice of you to make it back in here. Yes, there is a meeting here tonight.” He said Laughing and fucking with me.

 

I had sat down no longer than 3 minutes and this other guy, Paul, walks up to me.

“Hi Darryl, I got to go and take this guy who has alcohol poisoning to the emergency room. Will you give me a hand?”

“Sure Paul, I would be happy to help you. Let’s go.”

 

I grabbed my coat and out the door we went. I had known Paul for a couple of years and he was a bit of a mentor to me. His story was very similar to mine. How he had this built up unexplainable anger inside him and how he would drink and take his wrath out on others. It’s exactly what I used to do and still do at times in sobriety. It’s something I work on every day and I ask God frequently to help me with this issue.

 

“What happened Paul? Where is this guy and who is it?” I asked curiously.

It’s Joe. Remember he used to come to the meetings. He’s really sick. He called my house and told my wife he’s dying. She told me to get my ass in gear and take him to the hospital.” Paul said.

 

“Is Joe dying man? You sound hesitant like you don’t want to help him.” I said.

 

“It’s not that Darryl, I’ve been through this 5 or 6 times with this guy. He was sober, then drunk, then sober off and on, for years. Joe has 2 boys, seven and nine, he had a great job and now he has been spinning out of control for the last year. He has done this to me repeatedly through the years and I’m getting sick of it. This time he got my wife involved and told her he had 2 seizures today and thought he was dying. I’ve heard it all before, he’s the worst case I’ve ever seen.” Paul said sadly.

 

“Maybe it’s his time man. You never know how God works. Maybe he’ll be desperate enough to get his shit together and keep it together.” I said wishfully.

“I don’t know man, we might lose this one. He has done this before where he had a BAC Blood Alcohol Content) of over .40 and he was still walking. This guy has an unbelievable tolerance and is killing himself.”

 

We drove from the meeting to Joe’s apartment and I thought to myself, wow I’m helping somebody who is in just as bad of shape that I was in two years earlier. Maybe God is showing me something right now. I think that was the case. We drove up to his front door of this apartment house

And started walking in.

 “Darryl, help me get him in the car if he can’t walk. I’m worried he might throw up on the way to the emergency room so I’m going to get a bucket.” Paul told me.

 

“Don’t worry about it man. I’ll give you a hand with whatever happens. I’ll sit in the back with him and hold the bucket or whatever.” I told Paul.

He knocked on the apartment door and opened it. The door wasn’t locked and the apartment was pitch black.

“Joe, this is Paul. You in here? Joe, where are you? I’m here with a friend to take you to the hospital.

             I could hear somebody stirring and moaning. Paul turned on the lights and Joe was lying in the next room on a couch. He started to get up.

“Paul, I’m really sick man. I have had a couple of seizures and bit my tongue. That’s what this blood on my shirt is.” Joe said drunkenly.

“All right, we’re here to take you to the hospital. Let’s go. Do you remember Darryl from the meetings? Paul asked Joe.

Yeh, I do. Hi Darryl, I remember you.” Joe said slurring his words.

“I remember you too Joe, we’re here to help you brother.” I said to him encouragingly.

“Thanks man. I’m sick, really sick this time. I can’t stop.” Joe said crying.

 

“Do you have a bag packed Joe? Let’s go. Paul told him.

            “Yes, I got a bag right here. I need a drink before we go.” Joe begged.

            “No. Let’s go get you checked into Maine Medical Center before it gets any later” Paul told him.

        

Joe had already stumbled off into his bedroom not taking no for an answer. He was bound and determined to have another haul off the vodka bottle before they checked him in.

 

              “What, do you think I’m stupid? You think I’m going to be de-toxed without another drink.” He exclaimed. Joe was laughing now. Crying, laughing, slurring, and swearing. All in the matter of 2 minutes. So this is how this worked, I thought to myself.

 

                “Fuck it Paul. Let him have his drink and then we’ll haul him out of here. At least he won’t have a seizure on the way. We’ll never shut him up if we don’t let him.” I said to Paul.

 

He finished a couple of swigs of vodka and we stuck him in the car. He swore over and over to Paul that he wasn’t a puker and that he wouldn’t vomit in Paul’s car. Paul relented getting a bucket and we got him buckled into the car and drove to the hospital. On the way, we tried to talk some sense into Joe.

 

                “Joe, you’re killing yourself man. Paul tells me you have two boys at home and you’re going to lose them all together if you don’t get your shit together man. I almost lost my son and that’s one of things that helped me pull out of it. The thought of losing him scared me.” I told him.

              

 “I know man, I know. I’ve been drunk for a year. I can’t get a handle on it and I’m sick all over. Every day it’s the same madness.” Joe said.

               

 

 “Listen Joe. You have to tell the doctors the truth this time. No lying, no bullshitting. Have you been doing any heroin? Paul asked him.

 

 I looked back from the passenger seat and Joe was looking through his pockets.

Have you been doing drugs today Joe? I asked.

 

“No. Nothing but drinking.” He said.

“Cocaine?” I asked.

“No”

“Pills?”

“No”

Oxy-contin?”

“No”

“Weed?”

“No, nothing but beer and vodka.” Joe said

“Then what are you looking for in your pockets?” I asked.

“I’m just making sure. I’ve done heroin 3 weeks ago, oxy’s(80mg’s) a couple of weeks ago. Making sure they don’t find anything I missed.” He said.

 

I looked at Paul and he was rolling his eyes.

“You have to tell them the truth or they can’t help you Joe.” Paul said to him.

“I know, I know. I’ll tell them the truth this time. I’m sick and I’m all done this time. I mean it.” Joe told us.

 

We pulled into Maine Medical Center’s Emergency Room Parking Lot and I walked Joe in while Paul parked. Joe had a cigarette as we walked and sucked that into him as if it were his last pleasurable thing he would ever do. We walked through the doors and checked in. They got his information and we sat down to wait for a nurse and doctor.

 

Joe started acting emotional again, laughing, crying, being loud and acting drunk. People were staring at us and for once in my life; I wasn’t a bit embarrassed being around someone drunk. It was usually me being loud and obnoxious but I felt the other people in the emergency room needed to see and hear how terrible the disease of alcoholism actually is. Joe was obviously reaching out for help and he really didn’t care what anyone thought of him.

      A nurse called us and Paul and I helped Joe into the nurse’s station. She began to ask Joe several questions?

 

“Sir what seems to be the problem tonight?” the nurse asked.

“I have severe alcohol poisoning. I’m really sick.” Joe said tearfully.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worst, how bad is the pain?”

“10, even my hair hurts!!” Joe cried out.

 

I looked at Paul. He had been through this several times with Joe and he was watching and listening.

 

 

 

“He’s been doing heroin and oxy-contin recently, although supposedly not today.” I told the nurse. I was afraid Joe wouldn’t admit everything and they wouldn’t be able to give him the help he so desperately needed.

 

“He also had two seizures today and bit his tongue earlier thus the blood on his shirt.” I told the nurse.

“You have to tell me everything Joe or we can’t help you. Is there anything else we need to know? The nurse asked pleadingly.

 

“No, that’s it. I haven’t done Heroin for a few weeks and I haven’t done oxy-contin or anything else but drinking today. I’ve been drinking for a year straight and I have to quit. I can’t take it anymore.” Joe said.

“Ok Joe. A doctor will see you shortly. Are you ok right now? She asked.

“Do you have a bed he can lie down on now while he’s waiting for the doctor?” Paul interjected.

“Yes we do. Follow me Joe and we’ll make you comfortable.” The nurse said leading him down a hallway and to a hospital bed.

 

Joe laid down and we said our goodbyes. Paul wanted to leave and was walking away and I told him I’d be right out. His vehicle was still parked at the Hospital Emergency Room Entrance and he wanted to move it. As Paul left he told Joe:

 

“You be honest with the doctor Joe. They can’t help you if you don’t help yourself. Listen to them and don’t lie to them.” Paul said sternly.

 

“I will. I will. Thanks a lot you guys. I appreciate all you’ve done” Joe said.

 

“I’ll be right out Paul. I want to talk to him for just a second.” I said.

 

I walked up to the hospital bed and gave Joe my telephone number.

 

“Joe, call me when you can and tell me how you’re doing. I want to help you if I can, I care about you man.” I told him.

 

“Thanks Darryl. I know you guys are trying to help me. I remember you from all the 12 step meetings a year ago. I’ll call you when I get straightened out. Thanks a lot.” Joe told me.

 

I shook his hand. “Joe, Paul told me you have a 9 yr old boy and a 7 yr old boy. I heard they are great kids. If you can’t get your shit together for yourself, do it for them man. I quit drinking when I was threatened that I would no longer be able to see my son if I didn’t sober up. C’mon man, step up to the plate. I’ll help you when you get out. Those boys need a sober and clean dad.” I told him. “I’m going to pray for you brother.”

 

‘Thanks again Darryl, I’ll call you.” He said

 

 I walked out of the hospital knowing we’d done a good thing but I was unsure of what would happen to Joe. I knew the Hospital would straighten him out and then he would go into a de-tox. After that, God only knows.

 

I got outside and Paul was waiting in his SUV. I jumped in and he was at a loss for words.

 

 

“I don’t know about this one. He’s the worst case I’ve seen in over 15 years. We just might lose this one.” Paul said frustratedly.

 

“I know you’ve been through this 5 or 6 times with this guy in the last several years Paul. I can understand your frustration. Especially when he doesn’t call you for a year and then calls your home all fucked up and tells your wife that he’s dying of alcohol poisoning and your wife tells you to get your butt over to his apartment and take him to the hospital. That being said, a lot of people re-lapse many times and one day they wake up and actually quit. Who knows, maybe this is the time. We have to support him.” I said.

 

“I have been there every time he’s asked Darryl. It’s hard when you see a guy who’s smart, educated, and had the world by the balls. He had a good job, wife and kids, and his own properties and he throws them all out the window. He was sober for years and now he’s worse than ever.” Paul said.

 

“Ill follow up with him. I’ve only done this once and maybe I can get through to him.”

 

We drove back to my vehicle and Paul thanked me for helping him with Joe. I told him I was honored that he asked and I thanked him for being there for so many people for so many years.

 

A few days went by and of course no phone call. I knew the Hospital couldn’t release where he was de-toxing at because of medical privacy laws. I decided to go up to his apartment and see if anyone was there. He had been living with a woman although that was a tumultuous relationship. I thought she might be there or maybe I’d find him there, drunk on the couch. Nothing would surprise me when it comes to this deadly affliction of addiction and alcoholism.

 

I drove to his apartment. It took me awhile as I had only been there once and it had been later in the evening and dark outside. After driving around for awhile, I spotted his apartment building and parked my vehicle and knocked on the door.

 

Knock, Knock, Knock.   No answer but somebody was moving around and a dog starting barking.

“Hello, Hello, Knock, Knock, Knock. Hey Joe, it’s Darryl Hagar from the other night.”

 

Again somebody walking by the door.

 

“Hello, I’m looking for Joe, I checked him into Maine Medical Center the other night.” I yelled through the closed door.

 

 The door opened a crack and an eyeball peeked out at me.

 

“Hi, I’m Darryl Hagar, Joe’s friend. I took him to the hospital the other night and I’m trying to see how he’s doing now.”

 

A young lady, his girlfriend, opened the door. Sweat was pouring down her face. She was shaking, obviously nervous and had a very sniffly runny nose. I immediately thought to myself, she’s high on cocaine right now.

 

“Hi. Sorry about that. I was worried it was some of Joe’s friends from the shelter wanting to come up here and party or hang out.” She said opening the door and letting me in.

 

“Where’s Joe. Is he in a de-tox or what? I’m worried about him.”

“Yes he is. They have visiting hours and a daily public 12 step meeting if you want to go see him. Let me call them and I’ll write it down for you” she said.

 

She dialed the number, hands shaking, voice broken and trembling. She talked to them and got the hours of the de-tox sniffling the whole conversation. Wow. I was right in the middle of addiction central. Unfortunately having lived that for lifestyle for over 25 years, I knew the drill and I knew there were many many people struggling exactly like this. She got off the phone and handed me the number.

 

“I am almost 2 years sober from alcohol and drugs and I used to go to 12 step meetings with Joe.” I told her trying to gain her confidence.

 

“I’m in drug recovery myself” She told me. Amazingly I think she thought I would believe that. Recovery means no longer using I thought to myself but one soul at a time.

 

“Thanks for your help. I’m going to go to that public 12 step meeting at the de-tox tomorrow. If you talk to him tell him to look for him. Is there anything I could bring him?” I asked.

 

“I’m sure he could use some cigarettes. I brought him a few packs yesterday.” She told me.

“Sounds good, thanks for your help. Tell Joe I stopped by” I said leaving.

 

As I left the apartment I thought to myself. Here are two addicts/alcoholics living together. That made it even harder to stay sober. I hope she does recover but at the same time I hope she moves out of Joe’s apartment. That would be the best thing for both of them. The only kind of support you get from your significant other who is also an addict is a piece of ass, someone to yell at and to go get you another bottle at the liquor store. They were feeding off each other like two parasites consuming the other. I would pray to God that they would separate at least for awhile and get clean and sober. We’ll see. Time will tell.

 

The next day I went to the de-tox and to the 12 step meeting. I had a pack of cigarettes for Joe and I walked in and looked around. I didn’t see him anywhere although there were lots of people waiting for the meeting to begin. I sat down and waited and the clients all came in together. They were scared, going through detox, probably somewhat embarrassed. This was a mandatory meeting that they held every

 

day. I watched as the clients came out one by one and finally sure enough, the very last person to come into the room was Joe. He sat down right next to the door he had come through and hadn’t seen me. I decided to stand up and go to him.

 

“Hey Joe, Its Darryl from the other night, come sit over here with me man” I asked him.

 

He followed me back over to where I was sitting and pulled up a chair next to me and I stuck out my hand which he accepted and smiled weakly.

 

“Hi Joe. How are you making out man? You feel ok.” I asked him.

 

“Hi. It’s Darryl Right?” He asked.

 

“Yeh Man, do you remember Paul and I taking you to the Maine Medical Center Hospital the other night?” I asked curiously.

 

“Oh Yeh, That’s about all I remember. I’m not feeling too good. It’s getting a little better each day though” Joe said.

 

I pulled out the pack of cigarettes and handed them to him. I wanted him to know that I cared about him and realized what he was going through. The meeting started and was some good stuff going on. The clients listened intently as people shared their stories of drinking and drugging and how they finally overcame their own addictions. Of how they attend meetings, work the 12 steps, have a sponsor and have lots of phone numbers of people they can call.

 

There was a feeling of hope in the room. There was a feeling of togetherness. There was definitely a presence of spirituality and of people praying to their higher power asking for forgiveness, guidance, and strength. I was there doing God’s work. I believe things happen for a reason and I believe I was supposed to be there that day for Joe. I prayed during the meeting and asked God to give me the words that would have an impact on Joe and help him conquer his demons. The meeting ended and we again shook hands.

 

“Joe, I’m glad you’re here man. You have my telephone number, call me and I’ll go to some meetings with you” I sincerely told him.

“Hey man, thanks for coming and thanks for everything. I’ll call you when I get out. I need someone to hang out with and to go to some meetings” He said encouragingly.

 

“You have to get it together man. Paul is afraid you’re going to die man. He’s serious too. He told me you have two beautiful boys, ages 7 and 9” I said.

 

“Yeh, I do”

 

“C’mon man, if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for those two boys. They need a dad around. I know you love them Joe, stand up and make a stand brother. When I de-toxed and got sober, I was being threatened with not being able to be near my son. It’s the only thing that brought me back to reality.

 

 

You need to do the same thing Joe. Please man; try to do it for them so they’ll grow up with a dad. You can do it, I did” I said begging him to try.

 

“Thanks for the other night and for the smokes. I’ll try my best” Joe said.

 

I wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. I think he wanted to get sober but I could feel a sense of him thinking he couldn’t do it. I was afraid he was using the de-tox to get straightened out enough to make the seizures stop, some food in his belly and back out to do it all over again.

 

“Call me Joe. Good luck brother, I’m there for you.”

 

“Thanks again Darryl” He said as he walked with the other clients back upstairs for more treatment.

 

Time will tell. I will pray to God that he will help Joe before it’s too late and two young boys will lose their daddy. I am going to ask some friends to pray for him also. I never thought about how badly this disease screwed up families until now. I was seeing first hand someone other than myself think their drinking and drug usage was more important then their own children. I am saddened by his situation because I really don’t know if he can recover. He’s very close to being gone. He and his family will be in my prayers and I intend on trying to help him in the future.