February 9, 2000. It was the worst of times. I walked into the hospital emergency room, filled with liquor and pills and said to the first nurse I saw "Help me, or my next stop is the bridge". This wasn't for dramatic affect. Where I lived is on the Ohio River and we had a bridge. I hated how I felt and had finally reached that ever-elusive bottom. I had lost everything, my home, family, friends, job, dignity and respect. I was homeless thanks to my friend, alcohol.

February 10, 2000. I didn't know it then but it was the beginning of the best of times. I began my recovery in earnest. It was hard in the beginning, especially in times of stress. I also no longer had my youngest son living with me and his father would not allow me to see him. But somehow I realized I couldn't get better for my kids, my family or for anyone else. I had to do it for myself, or it would never work.

So I took baby steps in the beginning. I got myself a no holds barred alcohol counselor and got to work. Don't ever let anyone tell you it is easy, if so they are lying. It takes one day at a time, everyday. I had lost my identity along my journey, so I first had to figure out who I was and what I wanted. I also had a new circle of friends who were also in recovery. I went to seminars, support group meetings; anywhere I could gain the knowledge I needed for this to work.

Over the last 7+ years I have worked hard. But slowly over time it began to work for me. As I got through my first year, I moved to a new city. One year turned to two, then three and I started getting involved with my community. I volunteered for 5 years with one of our local outreach programs that worked with the homeless.

I was hired and worked with young adults, 18-23 who have been used and abused, then thrown away. One of my girls told me" You're the coolest old person I know, except for this other older guy, but he is dead." You take your compliments where you can.

I am currently working to start up an outreach for all younger adults, the throwaway kids that are alone and to show them someone does care. It is a difficult task I am undertaking, I know, but I feel I need to do it. If not me, who? If not you, who?

There are things that happened in my life. I have at times, I wished I could change, but if I could, would I be who I am today? No one special, nothing different, but someone who does care and understands the stigma, isolation, embarrassment, degradation and discrimination one feels going through our journeys. There will always be those who see us the way they need to see us. Who cares? As long as we know for ourselves. We need to become activists for ourselves, advocate for our cause. Be proud. Don't hide. Stand up and be counted. Please feel free to contact me. That is what we are all here for each other. And we should always strive to be the coolest old person someone knows.

1010 Vermont Ave. #708
Washington, DC 20005
Phone (202) 737-0690
Fax (202) 737-0695