The Program is a Life Jacket.

[saved1]

The Program is a Life Jacket, By Tom Powers

The critical quality of a great turning point in your life is apt to be missed at the time and only recognized later. One Wednesday evening in October, 1941, there were some thirty men and women assembled in a small room in the East tower of the County Center Building in White Plains, New York. As I entered the room — it was my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous — I had no idea of the magnitude of the change I was exposing myself to.

It is true, I was looking for help and half expecting to find it here. But even so, I had no way of knowing or guessing that I was crossing a watershed, a great divide, on the other side of which my life would be utterly changed — altered in certain ways which I found agreeable and profitable, but transformed also in other ways which at first I could not have imagined and did not have the vision or the largeness of heart to desire.

At that first meeting I was both receptive and unreceptive. It is certainly possible to be both simultaneously, and most newcomers are both. I was receptive because I needed and wanted help. I was a bad drinker, just out of my second trip to the mental institution in 14 months, with the smell of metrazol [a chemical once used to induce convulsion in shock treatment] still fresh in my nose, and with the realization clear in my mind that compulsive alcoholic drinking was the cause of my troubles. I wanted to stop drinking, and I had been told that the people in this room knew how to do that. And as the meeting progressed, I found myself believing readily enough that indeed they did know how to do what I had repeatedly tried and repeatedly failed to do: say No to that first drink. So I listened to what they said and took it seriously.

I was unreceptive because certain of the things that were talked about seemed to me simply unreal. To my mind God was unreal, and therefore prayer and meditation were unreal. I didn’t argue about these things openly. I just ignored them and kept coming back to meetings, because I wanted the kind of help these people were able to give me.

There are two great, living realities in Alcoholics Anonymous: the Fellowship and the Program. Comparing these two is like comparing your right and left legs; both are necessary if you are to climb steadily and maintain your balance on the road to recovery.

It was the Fellowship that loomed largest for me at first, so large that I let the Program take a dangerously neglected second place. I liked the meetings from the start. I liked the people and the talking and the helping of others; from the earliest days, 12th Step work was big for me. And from this activity the strength and truth of the movement flowed into me. I got sober and stayed sober, and my life began to change in striking ways. My job began to go well. My home life greatly and beautifully improved. I began to experience joy in ordinary things which I had not known since childhood.

Meanwhile of course I heard of the Twelve Steps, and I gained some understanding of them. I practiced what seemed to apply to me and ignored the rest, and since my atheism remained unchanged, a large part of the Program was ignored. As a result, Alcoholics Anonymous for me meant a big dose of the Fellowship accompanied by a very limited practice of a truncated Program. For this imbalance I paid a high price.

After some months of sobriety I began to drink again, and in spite of strenuous work in the Fellowship — frequent attendance at meetings and a lot of activity in trying to help others — I was unable to regain my sobriety. Over a period of years the drinking continued, and although I believed in the Fellowship and worked hard in it all that time, it was ineffective for me. Ineffective at the level of maintaining sobriety. It was effective in giving me enough hope and enough sanity to keep trying, to keep coming to meetings, and to keep in touch with my AA friends.

And then one day I saw what my trouble was. Lying in a hospital bed in a drying-out place the week after Easter 1946, I saw something to which I had been blind before. I saw the importance of the Program. I saw that I had been trying to substitute the Fellowship for the Program, and that you simply can’t do that and get away with it. Again, it is like trying to substitute one of your legs for the other; you can’t walk that way.

This process of clear seeing went on for some days. I saw that the Program means exactly what it says, and that you can’t change it or twist it around to suit your prejudices or your old ideas and still have it work for you. It is what it is, and its power comes from that — from what it is. It is a God-given distillation of hard experience that cannot be changed because it is true as stated, and because the kind of changes that a fool like me wants to make in it falsify it. It works because it is true, and of course it doesn’t work when falsified.

For the first time in all my years in AA, I took the card in my hand and read the Twelve Steps carefully, slowly, trying to understand what they are saying. I began to do this every day. I also read the Big Book, studying it as what it is: a textbook on the application of the Steps.

This approach to the Program greatly intensified my first love, my love of the brethren — my joy in the Fellowship. Now the two legs worked together, and I walked at last in blessed sobriety, one day at a time, day after day after day, greatly thanking God.

I don’t know just when my intellectual pretensions and prejudices against the Deity began to melt. Even when you are failing in the Fellowship, it does you good. I heard a lot of people — many of them very intelligent people — say that God had helped them. And after a while — I don’t quite know how — I got down off my high horse. And this was the secret. This was what opened my mind and my heart to the power of the Program.

And now, many sober years later, one day at a time my valuation of the Program has increased beyond measure, along with my ever-deepening love of the Fellowship.

The Program is no accident and no mere incident in the growth of a society. It is a landmark in one of the great dispensations of grace of this age. Without the Program the Fellowship would never have got started, and without the Program the Fellowship surely could not have survived. The Program is the treasure in the field.

This singular compendium of spiritual principles — this lean, compact, rigorously stripped-down epitome of the knowledge it takes for an addict to recover — this beautifully disciplined, radically simple, yet fully satisfactory and adequate statement of what an alcoholic must do in order to regain his sanity — did not appear, and could not have appeared, in the ordinary course of human events. It can only be understood in terms of inspiration, the infusion of wisdom from a higher level, the gift to men of paranormal, supernatural know-how and power in response to a desperate spiritual need.

The simplicity of the Twelve Steps is deceptive to the uninitiated. It both conceals and reveals an extraordinary road-map of the way to God — and thus to sanity, responsibility and the meaning of human life. There are greater maps than the Twelve Steps. The Bible, for example, is immeasurably greater. But there are none so reduced to essentials — so devoid of controversial or confusing elements — and so well within the understanding and practical grasp of weak men, sick men, bad men, insane men.

The Twelve Steps are a life jacket for men drowning in the sea of addiction. And this jacket will also float other kinds of flounderers in the sea of modern imbecility and corruption — the drug addicts, the food addicts, the sex addicts, the anxious, the depressed.

Simple as it is, the AA Program presents real difficulties of access, and these cannot be safely ignored. Any bright 12-year-old child can understand what the Program is saying. But many a bright fully mature man and woman has failed to comprehend its message.

Chief among the obstacles to a practical understanding of the Twelve Steps seems to be an attitude of intellectual arrogance and superiority. The Steps do not speak to the man who knows it all already. They leave such a person stewing in his own pride and contempt. The commandment found in the New Testament to become as a little child applies critically here. And no amount of exteriorly imposed humiliation by itself will bring your head low enough to go through this gate. Along with whatever aid environmental disaster may be to you — and of course it may be great — you still must humble yourself under the mighty hand of God in order to see the greatness and to receive the great power of the principles embodied in this brief statement of the beginning of the road to freedom.

Second only to arrogance — and maybe not even second but rather the ground of arrogance — is infantile personal self-will as a barrier to an effective relationship with the Program. Many adults and nearly all addicts carry the infant’s totally self-centered demands over and incorporate them basically into the adult life-style. If you must have your own way in everything, why then the Program remains beyond your comprehension and beyond your reach, because it is precisely the giving up of your own personal self-will to the care of the Higher Power and to the requirements of the truth that the Program prescribes.

A real regenerative Program, one that is capable of producing fundamental and decisive life-change, is always the result of inspiration, coupled with the type of human genius which is able to receive, elaborate, and communicate inspiration.

Perhaps you think that any reasonably intelligent man or woman, with some spiritual training and understanding to help him, could sit down and work out a program that would be somewhere near as effective as the Twelve Steps. Believe me, it is not so. I have seen the attempt made, and I have seen it fail, many times.

One last word: You may have the very great privilege of coming into contact with a true regenerative Program — and still find yourself unable to profit from it, unable to connect with it, unable to work effectively in it. That, as you have seen, was my own situation for many years.

There is a way to break this kind of deadlock, an again it involves humbling yourself. A life jacket is no good to you unless you put it on. And to put on the Program means to obey it. That is the one-word key to the whole problem. The Program is not there to be argued about or fought over or picked apart or objected to, and certainly not to be modified or changed. It is there to be obeyed. Obedience to the Program must come first before any and all other considerations in life, no matter how dear or how demanding. Then and only then — does the saving power come to you. :15:

[saved1]

Now that we have decided to put the Program of Alcoholics Anonymous to the test, we are ready to go into action. :218:
That just happens to be the title of Chapter 6, “INTO ACTION”. In this Chapter, we are given the directions, the prayers and the Promises for Steps Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten and Eleven.

What seems to be so amazing about this Program is its simplicity. We are told how to make our decision to begin recovery on page 63. From page 64 through page 83, we are told what we must do to be assured of a spiritual awakening or a spiritual experience. Once we have taken the action outlined in these pages, we are told we are now recovered alcoholics.

To maintain that miracle and to grow spiritually, we are told how we can take care of the moment by applying Step Ten and how to gain the Power and Knowledge of His will for us by practicing Step Eleven. That precious information is contained in just 5 pages (Pages 84 through 88).

Having followed the clear-cut directions presented in these 24 pages of this Basic Text, we are promised that we will have a spiritual awakening and thereby have a Solution for all our problems. Not just the problem of alcoholism, but ALL our problems.

The only way to see if that will prove true for us, as it did the authors of this Book, is to do what they report they did. With Step Four, we have taken only the first action Step. Now it is time for action and more action.

We recover by the Steps we take, not the meetings we make.

(Page 72)

(P) 1. Having completed our Fourth Step, what is the question?

2-a. What have we been trying to do?
2-b. And what else?
2-c. And discover what?

5-a. What have we admitted?
5-b. What have we ascertained?
5-c. We have put our finger on what?

8. What is about to happen to these defects of character?
9-a. What is required?
9-b. When completed, we will have admitted to whom?
9-c. And what will we have admitted?

12. Where are we at this point?

(P) 13. What is difficult about Step Five?

14. Do some of us feel that Step Four was enough truth?

15. What do we find in actual practice? (2 sentences)

16. Do many of us believe that we must do more?

17. Will some good reasons help us to be more willing to take this
Step?

18. What is the very best reason for doing so?

19. Do many try to keep a secret or two?

20. Do they try to find an easier, softer way?

21. What almost invariably happens to them?

(Page 73)

1. Since they took Step Four, what did they wonder when they
found themselves drunk?

2. What do we think the reason is?

3. Even though they made an attempt at Step Four, what had they
done?

4. What thoughts did they hang onto?
5-a. What had they not learned?
5-b. What do they need to do?

(P) 7. How many lives do alcoholics live?

8. What are we good at?

9. Do we put on a good front for the people in our lives?
(2 sentences)

10-a. If we are good at it, what do we enjoy?
10-b. Do we deserve it?

(P) 12. What makes things worse?

13. When he comes out of a blackout, what happens?

14. What are these memories to him?

15. What really scares him?

16. What does he do with these memories?

17. What is his hope?

18-a. What does this do to him constantly?
18-b. This leads to what?
Page 73 - continued)

(P) 20. Do psychologists believe we are liars?

21. Do we pay them well to tell them half- truths and ignore their advice? (3 sentences)
Comment: Would this maybe qualify as another form of insanity?

22. Who were we willing to be honest with?

23. Is this one of the reasons members of the medical profession have such a low opinion of us?
Comment: Could another reason be that we are not too good about paying our bills?


(P) 24-a. What must we do?

(Page 74)

1-b. Why must we be entirely honest with someone?
2. Should we be careful about who we take Step Five with?

3. If our religious convictions require a confession, should we
adhere to that?
4. If we have no religious connections, is it all right to go to a
member of the clergy?
5. Do we sometimes find those who come to understand what we
are trying to do?
6. On the other hand, do we sometimes find folks who want to
change our Program?

(P) 7. If we don’t want to go to a member of the clergy, what can we do?

8. What professionals might be acceptable?

9-a. What about a family member?
9-b. What can we not do if we use a family member or close friend?

11. What is it that we have no right to do?

12. How do we handle some parts of our story?

13. What rule do we follow?

(P) 14. What situation could exist?
15-a. What do we do if there is no one we can share with?
15-b. But we must be ready to do what?

17. Why do we say this?

18-a. What is important about the person who will hear our Fifth Step?
18-b. What must the person hearing our Fifth Step understand?
18-c. And they must not do what?
(Page 75)
1. Can we use this as an excuse to postpone?

(P) 2. WHEN do we do our Fifth Step?

3-a. What do we have?
3-b. We are prepared for what?

5. What do we explain to the person who is to hear us?

6. What must that person realize?

7. How will most people feel about doing this for us?


(P) 8. HOW do we take our Fifth Step?

9. If we are completely honest and thorough, WHAT is the first
promise?

10. WHAT is the second promise?

11. WHAT is the third promise?

12. WHAT is the fourth promise?

13. WHAT is the fifth promise?

14. WHAT is the sixth promise?

15. WHAT is the seventh promise?

16. WHAT is the eighth promise?


(P) 17-a. Returning home, what do we do and for how long?
17-b. We very carefully do what?

(Page 75 - continued)

Comment: The following prayer is the first “Fifth Step Prayer”.

19. Why do we thank God?

20-a. What do we do then?
20-b. We turn to what page?


22-a. What do we do then?
Comment: The following is the second “Fifth Step Prayer.”
22-b. What do we ask for?
22-c. What are we in the process of building?


25. Is it really important that we do this thoroughly? (4 sentences)

(Page 76)
(P) 1. If we know we have done the very best we can, have held back no secrets in Steps Four & Five, we can look at what? (The WHEN)
2. What have the First Hundred emphasized as absolutely
necessary? (The HOW)

Comment: To be successful in this Program, we must be completely willing to follow the clear-cut directions the First Hundred laid down for us in this Book. They are just reminding us of that fact at this point in our recovery.

3. Are we really ready to have God do what?

4. What question is running through our mind at this point?
(The WHAT)

Comment: The following is the “Sixth Step Prayer.”
5. If we have one or more character defects we are unwilling to part with, what do we do?

Comment: If we truly have the willingness to continue our study of the Steps and apply them to our lives, then we are ready.

(P) 6. WHEN we are ready, what do we do? (The HOW)

7. What parts of our lives are we willing to let Him take?

8. What do we ask Him to remove?

9. We ask Him to grant us what?

10. How do we know we have completed this prayer?

Comment: Review the formal prayer on page 63 and notice that is was not concluded. There was no “Amen”. Notice that the Seventh Step Prayer is concluded. These may be considered as a single prayer, separated by Steps Four and Five to learn what it is we must be willing to have Him remove and promise Him that we have the willingness to do our part. We can then ask Him to do His part. [The WHAT]
(Page 76 - continued)

11. What more do we do with Step Seven?

(P) 12-a. What do we now need? (The WHEN)
12-b. Why do we need it?

Comment: Again, we are reminded that this is a Program of action, not just going to meetings.

14. What Steps will we look at now?

15. What do we have?

16. Where did it come from?

17. What do we now do?

18. Why do we go to see our family, friends, and neighbors?
(The HOW)

19. What do we really try to do? (The WHAT)

Comment: The following is the Eighth Step Prayer. Remember that we were promised we would be given some willingness as we did Step Four.

20. What do we pray for?

21. What must we remember? (The WHY)

(P) 22. What is probably true?

23-a. As we review the list, how do we feel about some of them?
23-b. Why might we feel that way?

25. Can we be assured?

26. Should we try to impress everyone of our spiritual way of life?
(Page 77)
1. If we get heavy on spirituality, how might that affect them?

2. What are we really trying to do?

3. Is that just what this program is all about?

4. What is the real purpose of the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous?
Comment: Can this be achieved by just not drinking and going to meetings?

5. What wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do?

6. To do so would be like doing what?

7. If we do, what may they think of us?

8. What is a far more important reason?

9. What will the person be impressed by?
Comment: A condition which must exist before making amends is a “sincere desire to set right the wrongs.” [The WHEN]

10. What will the person be interested in?
Comment: Again, the message is what we do - not what we say.

(P) 11. We don’t use this as an excuse for shying away from what?

12. If it can help, what are we willing to do?

13. What question will arise?

14. What if he has hurt me more than I have hurt him?

15. Nevertheless, what do we do?

16. Even though it is difficult going to an enemy, what are the
results?
(Page 77 - continued)

17-a. In what frame of mind do we go to him? (The WHEN)
Comment: Could this be termed “love?” -- to want to help and forgive?
17-b. What do we confess? (The HOW)

Comment: Step Nine is the Step that lets us forgive those we have hated, feared, wished bad times toward, etc.. Who, on your Fourth Step lists, did you not have ill feelings toward? If we want to be forgiven, we must forgive and then we are free!!!

Comment: From this point in Chapter 6 to the last paragraph on page 83, we will be told WHEN & HOW to “make direct amends to those we have harmed, except when to do so would hurt them or someone else” for specific situations and WHAT the results will be. Watch for them.


(P) 19. When can we criticize someone?

20. Very simply, what do we tell them?

21-a. Why are we trying to make restitution?

(Page 78)
1-b. Do we then tell them what they should do?
2. Whose faults are to be discussed? (2 sentences)
3. If we do this in an unemotional and honest manner, what will
happen?

(P) 4. What happens most of the time?

5. What happens sometimes?

6. What rarely fails to happen?

7. Sometimes, what do our enemies do?

8. Occasionally, they will do what?

9. But, does it really make any difference what their reactions are?

10. What counts? (2 sentences)
Comment: Again the message is the demonstration of what we do -- not what we say.

(P) 11. Most of us owe what?

12. Do we shy away from those we owe?
13-a. Are we honest with them?
13-b. What do they usually know?

15. Are we afraid to talk about our alcoholism?

16. If we are open and honest with them, what often happens?

17. How do we go about settling our financial amends?

18. What caused the need for these amends?

19-a. What must we lose?
19-b. Why is this so important?
(Page 78 - continued)

(P) 21. Have some of us committed criminal offenses?

22. Have some of us “borrowed” money from our employers?

23-a. Have we told our sponsors about these things?
23-b. Yet, we are fearful of what?

25. Have some of us cheated on our expense accounts?

26. Do only a few of us do that sort of thing?

(Page 79)
1. Have some of us skipped payments on alimony or child support?
2. If so, may this have put us in trouble with the law? (2 sentences)

(P) 3. Although these amends take on many forms, what will we be
given?
4-a. What must we remember?
Comment: The following is the first “Ninth Step Prayer.”
4-b. What do we pray for?
4-c. May our efforts to make restitution produce some inconveniences?

7-a. What might be the consequences?
7-b. But we must be what?

9. Is this optional? (2 sentences)

(P) 10. If other people might be involved, what are we not to do?
(2 sentences)

11. Why was he behind in alimony? (2 sentences)

12. How did she feel about it and what did she do? (2 sentences)

13-a. Was he applying the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous to his life?
13-b. Was his life improving?

15. What could he have done?

(P) 16-a. How did we feel about him going to jail?
16-b. What would be the problem with that, so far as making restitution?

18. His sponsor suggested that he do what?

19-a. Did he do what his sponsor told him to do?
19-b. What else did he do?
(Page 79 - continued)

21. What did he promise?

22. What did he tell her he was willing to do?

23. What was the outcome?

(Page 80)

(P) 1. If other people might be affected, what do we do?

2-a. If they give permission, what is the first thing we do?
2-b. After talking with our sponsor, what is the next step?
Comment: Since the consequences of this type of amend might be severe, we are given the second “Ninth Step Prayer” and it is buried in the preceding sentence --ask Who?
2-c. If it needs to be done, what do we not do?

(P) 5. What was the wrong that had to be righted?
(the entire paragraph)

(P) 6. Did he believe there was any way he could make amends?

7. If he made it known, for whom did he fear? (2 sentences)

8. What was the question facing him?

(P) 9-a. Who did he talk to about this problem?
9-b. After talking with them, what conclusion did he arrive at?

11-a. What did he see he had to do?
11-b. What did he know would happen if he didn’t make the amend?

13. How did he make this amend? (2 sentences)

14. What were the results? (2 sentences)


(P) 15. What is the next type of problem to be examined?

16. What would we, perhaps, not like to have generally known?




(Page 81)
1. Are alcoholics the only ones that do this sort of thing?

2. What does drinking do to our sex life at home?

3. Living with a drinking alcoholic does what to a wife?

4. Can she help it?

5. As she withdraws, what goes on with him?

6. He starts doing what?

7. What may he have going, hopefully unknown to interested
parties? (2 sentences)
8. What does a man doing this sort of thing normally feel?

(P) 9. Whatever the situation, we normally do what?

10. If the wife doesn’t know, what do we generally do? (2 sentences)

11. If she does know in a general way, what should we do?
(2 sentences)
12. If she wants to know all the details, what do we do? (3 sentences)

13. How do we feel about what we have done?

14. What else can we do?
15-a. May there be exceptions?
15-b. Do we consider the foregoing a rule?
15-c. Is the preceding suggestion based on opinions or on experience?

(P) 18. Is our Program just for the alcoholic?

19. Who else can profit by it?

20. If we can forget, what about her?
(Page 82)
1. What is the best thing to do?

(P) 2. Some cases may demand what?
3. Who, besides the couple, can decide?
4. What may happen?

Comment: The following is the third Ninth Step Prayer. It deals with infidelity.
5. What might each do?

6. We must remember we are dealing with what emotion?

7. Good generalship may do what?

(P) 8. If infidelity is not an issue, are we home free?

9. What really stupid thing do we all too often hear from an
alcoholic? (2 sentences)
10. Where is he with regard to his amends to his family?

11. What passes all understanding?

12. Had it not been for our families, where would many of us be?

(P) 13. The alcoholic is like what?

14. What are some of the results? (3 sentences)

15. What has caused disharmony in the home?

16. An alcoholic is really unthinking when he says what?

17. What analogy do the First Hundred give us to help us see the havoc we have caused?

18. What did the farmer say to his wife that got him in big trouble?
(2 sentences)
(Page 83)
(P) 1. What lies ahead?

2. Who must lead the way?

3. Is an apology sufficient?
4-a. What should we do?
4-b. What should we not do?
6. If they are messed up emotionally, who may be partly to blame?
7-a. So what do we do?
Comment: The following is the fourth Ninth Step Prayer. It deals with our family.
7-b. WHEN do we ask?
7-c. For WHAT do we ask?

(P) 10. What is not a theory?

11. What must we do?

12. What if the family doesn’t care for our program?

13. What should we not do?

14. Is there hope for them?

15. What will make an impression on them?
Comment: Again and again, we are reminded that this is a Program of Action!
16. What must we remember?

(P) 17. Can we right all wrongs?

18. We don’t worry about the wrongs we can’t make right if what?

19. How do we make amends to those we cannot see?
Comment: Is it all right to make amends by telephone?


(Page 83 - continued)

20. Can we postpone in some cases?

21. If a delay can be avoided, do we wait?

22. In making our amends, we should be what?

23-a. As God’s kids, we do what?
23-b. What do we not do?


(P) 25. If we have carefully followed the clear-cut directions to this point of our recovery, we will be what?
Comment: This is the First Promise resulting from taking the First Nine Steps. A big WHAT.

Comment: See if the following promises would indicate a complete change in the way we think and the way we feel. If so, would this be considered an entire psychic change? How about a spiritual awakening or a spiritual experience?

26. WHAT is the second promise?

27. WHAT is the third promise?

28. WHAT is the fourth promise?

(Page 84)

1. WHAT is the fifth promise?

2. WHAT is the sixth promise?

3. WHAT is the seventh promise?

4. WHAT is the eighth promise?

5. WHAT is the ninth promise?

6. WHAT is the tenth promise?

7. WHAT is the eleventh promise?

8. WHAT is the twelfth promise?


(P) 9. Are these promises overstated? (2 sentences)

10. WHAT is the thirteenth promise?

11-a. If they come quickly, what do we call them?
Comment: Bill W. had a sudden spiritual experience.
11-b. If they come slowly, what do we call them?
Comment: Dr. Bob had a slowly developed spiritual awakening.

13. WHAT is the fourteenth promise?

Comment: Now that we have had this complete change in the way we think and the way we feel [as the result of learning the truth about ourselves], and we are in the process of making restitution [Steps Four through Nine], our past is something we no longer want to hide. How are we going to take care of the present and no longer worry about the future? That is precisely what Steps Ten, Eleven and Twelve are for. Let’s learn how the First Hundred did them.

(Page 84 - continued)
(P) 14-a. With this thought, where are we?
14-b. Which says we continue to do what?

16. Is this something we do in a lackadaisical manner?

17. What New World have we now become a part of?
Comment: This is our Destination; to have the spiritual part of our being brought to life and begin to be aware of His Presence in our daily activities. He is our Father. We are His children.

18. What is the next thing we do?

Comment: On page 45, we are promised that this Book will show us how to find a Power, greater than ourselves, which will solve all our problems. We are now to grow spiritually by recognizing that we can truly rely on that Promise. We will grow in understanding that our Twelve Steps really can be a Solution to all our problems. We will grow in effectiveness in applying the Twelve Steps to every area of our lives.

19. Will this happen suddenly?

20. How long must we continue to apply these Steps to our lives?

21. WHAT do we watch for?
Comment: Isn’t this what we did in Step Four?

22. When these are detected, WHAT do we do and WHEN?
Comment: Isn’t this what we did in Steps Six and Seven?

23-a. WHAT is the next thing we do and WHEN?
Comment: Isn’t this what we did in Step Five?
23-b. And then we do WHAT and WHEN do we do it?
Comment: Isn’t this what we do in Steps Eight and Nine?

25. Then we resolutely do WHAT?
Comment: Isn’t this WHY we learn to take these Steps --”to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to God and the people about us?”? [p. 77]

(Page 84 - further continued)

26. As we learn to apply Step Ten, WHAT is the first promise?
Comment: If we learn how to love and tolerate all people, will this make it possible to gain more willingness to make the more difficult amends? Will it make life more livable on a day-to-day basis? We begin to understand that what people think of us is not nearly as important as what we think of them and how we may help meet their needs.

Comment: Let’s take a close look at the rest of the Tenth Step promises.

(P) 27. What is the second promise? And we have ceased doing WHAT?

28. The third promise? WHAT are we promised at this point?
Comment: What was the hope of Step Two? By taking the actions the First Hundred did through the first Ten Steps, we are now sane where alcohol is concerned. Have we now become recovered alcoholics?

29. What is the fourth promise? WHAT will we no longer care about?

30. What is the fifth promise? If tempted, HOW do we react?

(Page 85)
1. What is the sixth promise? HOW do we react around alcohol?

2. What is the seventh promise? HOW did we get such freedom?

3. What is the eighth promise? Do we send off for it? (2 sentences)

4. The ninth promise? Are we either fighting temptation or hiding
from where alcohol is served?
5. The tenth promise? HOW do we feel?

6. The eleventh promise? Have we taken the pledge?

7. The twelfth promise? Instead, WHAT has happened?
Comment: WHAT was the promise on page 45?

8. The thirteenth promise? WHAT happened to it?

9. The fourteenth promise? We are neither WHAT?

10. Are these promises based on someone’s ideas or opinions?

11. The fifteenth promise? WHAT is required to keep these promises alive and well?

(P) 12. What is so easy for an alcoholic to do?
13-a. What lies ahead?
13-b. Why?

15. We are not what of alcoholism?
Comment: Recovered but not cured? That presents a conflict to some alcoholics. If we were cured, we would be able to drink responsibly. No, we are not cured. The allergic reaction to alcohol will remain with us for our lifetime. But we have been restored to sanity. That was where the problem existed. “The main problem of the alcoholic centers in his mind, rather than in the body.” [p. 23] We are now sane where alcohol is concerned. Consequently, we have RECOVERED.)

(Page 85 - continued)
16-a. What do we have?
16-b. What is it contingent on?
18. What must we carry every day?
Comment: The following is the Tenth Step Prayer.
19-a. Who do we want to serve?
19-b. Whose will?

21. Are these thoughts optional?

Comment: And there are those who continue to say, “There are no “musts” in Alcoholics Anonymous” but here are two more of them.

22. What can we now do?

23. Why are we now able to do that?

Comment: If we are now sane when it comes to alcohol, it becomes pretty obvious that we would do well to decide to apply these Steps to our lives through willingness, which can be forced by self-will. Thank God, sanity was returned before we were given the opportunity to apply self-will again.

(P) 24-a. What do we receive?
24-b. Where does this come from?

26. WHAT are we promised if we carefully follow the directions is this Book?

27. WHAT have we begun to be?

28. WHAT have we started to develop?

29-a. Now that we have recovered, can we stop?
29-b. What must we do now?

(P) 31. What is Step Eleven?
32. Why shouldn’t we be shy about prayer? (2 sentences)

(Page 86)
1. What is required to make prayer work?
2. What would be easy?
3. How did the First Hundred believe they could help us here?

Comment: “Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understand Him, praying ONLY for the KNOWLEDGE of HIS WILL for us and the POWER to carry that out.” Prayer is talking to God and meditation is trying to listen to His still voice. He gave us two ears and one mouth. From that may be a clue as to how important it is to try to follow the directions we were given in this Book for learning how to communicate with our Heavenly Father.

(P) 4. What do we do at bedtime?
Comment: Here, we begin to receive directions for meditation.

5. What is the first question we must answer? (What four things do we continue to look for? Step Four?)
6. What is the second question we must answer?
(Steps Eight & Nine?)
7. What is the third question we must answer? (Step Five?)

8. What is the fourth question we must answer?
(Love & Service to God and the people about us?)

9. What is the fifth question we must answer?

10. What is the sixth question we must answer?
(Selfishness/self-centeredness?)

11-a. What is the seventh question we must answer?
11-b. What is the eighth question we must answer?

13-a. What must we be careful not to do?
13-b. Why?

15. After meditating on these questions, what do we pray?

(Page 86 - continued)

(P) 16. What is the first thing we should do when we wake up in the
morning?

17. What do we consider?

18. What prayer do we apply before we begin?

19-a. What can we do under these conditions?
19-b. Why did God give us brains in the first place?

21. Where will we now find our thought-life?
Comment: Does this appear to be a Promise?


(P) 22. Considering the day ahead, what may we face?

23. What may we not be able to do?

24. What do we pray?

25. How do we begin to learn to practice quiet meditation?
(2 sentences)

26. What will surprise us after we practice, practice, practice these
directions?
Comment: Does this appear to be another Promise?


(Page 87)

1. What do hunches and inspirations become for us?
Comment: Does this appear to be another Promise?

2. Why will we not be inspired all the time?

3. If we presume the contrary, what will happen?
Comment: It is always a good practice to check out our great ideas with our sponsors.

4. What do we find?
Comment: Does this appear to be another Promise?

5. Does it become important to us?
Comment: Does this appear to be another Promise?

(P) 6-a. How do we conclude our period of quiet meditation?
6-b. What do we pray for?

8-a. We especially pray for what?
8-b. What are we careful not to pray for?

10. What may we conditionally pray for?

11. How do some of us waste our time?

12. Why?
Comment: What was it we prayed for in the Third and Seventh Step Prayers?

(P) 13. If we have family or friends close by, what might we do?

14. If our religion places requirements on us, what do we do?

15. If we have no religious affiliation, what can we do?

16. What may we refer to?
(Page 87 - continued)

17. Where might we find some good suggestions for other reading material?

18. What should we be quick to do?

19. Should we take advantage of their generosity?


(P) 20. When we are upset or confused, what do we pray?

21-a. What must we remember all the time?

(Page 88)

1-b. What else do we humbly pray?

2. By doing so, what are we promised?

3. Will we be able to get more done?

4. Why will that be so?


(P) 5. What is the next promise?


(P) 6. We alcoholics are what?

7. How do we let God discipline us?

Comment: What has just been outlined is the program of recovery through the first Eleven Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. We need only to continue to follow this outline of action to grow spiritually. To confirm that, read the last sentence on page 14.


(P) 8. Is learning to take the first Eleven Steps the end of our actions?

9. What is there more of?

10. What is dead?

11. What is Chapter Seven about?

http://www.aa.org/bigbookonline/en_bigbook_chapt6.pdf

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I Was Born At A Very Early Age
An individual becomes an alcoholic for three main reasons:

1. As a result of inheritance. He possesses a nervous system which is non-resistant to alcohol. (In no sense is a direct craving transmitted from parent to offspring.)

2. By reason of his early environment. Through the ignorance of his parents or from their own nervous constitution, the alcoholic was either spoiled or neglected. He was not brought up to face the world courageously. He is lacking in self-reliance, no matter how physically brave he may be or how bold he may appear on the surface. Psychologically, he is unable to stand on his own two feet. As a result of this, he unconsciously craves a stimulant-narcotic.

3. Because of the effects of his later environment. That is to say, school, college, economic and social competition, marriage, and, for one generation at least, the World War.

Richard R. Peabody, The Common Sense of Drinking, 1930, pp. 185-186

Cleveland, Ohio, December 26, 1902

It was a cold, gray, winter morning. The forecast had called for snow with brisk west to southwest winds. Christmas had just passed without much incident. The Salvation Army had just had their annual Christmas dinner at the Grays' Armory the day earlier.

More than 2,500 of the city's homeless and destitute were fed what may have been their only hot meal in weeks. The morning paper said there were "Pathetic Scenes Witnessed About Big Tables." The Cleveland Plain Dealer was full of articles concerning suicides, hangings, and deaths. Page one told of a saloon fight that ended when the proprietor had shot a man to restore order in his establishment. Page Five spoke of "forty cripples at a dance."

Jenny Patterson Snyder, who had been born in St. Clarksville, Ohio, took much pleasure in reading and hearing about other people's misfortunes. On this particular day she had plenty to read about as she awaited the birth of her first daughter. Charles Henry and Jenny Snyder had already been blessed with two fine boys - Richard Harvey and Charles William. Jenny was a determined woman. She had made up her mind to have a girl this time. When she made up her mind that if something was going to be done, it had better be done, and her way - or else!

As was the custom in those days, much time and money was being spent getting the layette in readiness for the soon-to-be coming arrival. About six weeks prior to this particular day, Jenny had fallen down some stairs in her home and had broken her leg. The fall left her bedridden and in a cumbersome plaster cast.

She was left with plenty of time left on her hands. With those hands she had knitted pink booties, pink dresses, pink hats... Everything was a beautiful shade of pink. All to be presented upon the arrival of her new baby daughter.

The doctor was hurriedly summoned to 64 Breck Avenue (later called 1280 East 89th Street in Cleveland), the house that Charles had built only a few years earlier. Charles had been born in an old farm house on Route 113 in Amherst Township, four miles west of Elyria, Ohio. He had come from a large family. He had three brothers and four sisters. A couple of years earlier, Charles' parents had celebrated their sixty-first wedding anniversary which was written up in the society column of the local Elyria newspaper. It appeared that "Mr. and Mrs. Conrad Snyder of South Ridge" really did it up big. Five of their eight children were there with their spouses. Also present were sixteen grandchildren and five great grandchildren. The Newspaper article said, "The table where a seven course dinner was served was beautifully decorated with carnations and ferns. Several musical numbers were rendered."

When Jenny gave birth at the Breck Avenue house, it wasn't too difficult a birth. But when the doctor congratulated the proud parents upon the birth of yet another son, the matter was of great concern to Jenny. As Clarence later stated, "I don't think that she ever forgave me for that. She never fully recovered." It was on this note that Clarence Henry Snyder was born, the day after Christmas, in the year 1902.

He was the ugly duckling, the scapegoat, the black sheep of the family for the rest of his time at home. His mother had sustained massive disappointment when he was born. He was, however, very close with his brother Richard, who was one and a half years older than Clarence. Clarence and Richard, whom everyone called Dick, were so inseparable that later on, as they were growing up, if someone picked a fight with one brother, they had to contend with the other. The two brothers were a formidable duo. Since they belonged to one of the families of German descent in an all Irish neighborhood, the brothers stuck up for each other quite often.

Just before Clarence's second birthday, his mother had left him downstairs in front of the Christmas tree as she went about her daily household chores in the upstairs bedrooms. While she cleaned, she would walk over to the top of the staircase and call down to Clarence to see if he was okay and out of trouble. The two older boys had gone out shopping with their father, leaving Clarence and his mother at home as they shopped for their Christmas dinner.

Each time Jenny called out to him, Clarence would laugh and call out to her in baby talk, "boken, boken." This routine went on for quite some time until Jenny had finished with her cleaning and started back down the stairs to the living room to join her son. When she had reached the bottom steps, she abruptly stopped. Her mouth dropped open, and she released whatever she was holding in her hands. The load cascaded down the steps with a loud crash, startling Clarence. She appeared to him as if she were frozen, unable to speak or even move. One of the older boys had received as a Christmas gift, a tool box, complete with tools. Clarence had somehow figured out not only how to unwrap this gift, but how to open it as well. He had taken a hammer out of the box and proceeded to demolish every Christmas ornament within his reach. He did this with a glee and purpose that only a two year old could possess.

There was chaos and debris all over the living room. Bits of colored glass, unrecognizable pieces of wood. Many had been parts of family heirlooms. Most of the broken items were irreplaceable, having been passed on from generation to generation. Then, in a blind rage, his mother flew down the stairs, wrenched the hammer from his little hands and, as Clarence recalled with a laugh, "I guess I got boken for that also."

Clarence's mother had a hairbrush, which consisted of a stone back piece which was covered with carvings of images of little fish. Clarence recalled "I had imprints of fish all over my bottom and every place else that she wailed me with that thing. I can still remember that hairbrush. It's etched into my memory like the fish were etched onto my body." Clarence said that much later, when he grew older, "I stole that **** thing and threw it away. It was a means of torture."

Clarence's father was self employed in the carnival and park entertainment field. He ran concessions and rides at Luna Park in Cleveland. Clarence and his brothers were never at a loss for a place to go for fun and entertainment. Best of all, as Clarence remembered, they never had to pay either an entrance fee to the park or for any of the rides.

Clarence attended a local kindergarten and first grade. For some unknown reason, ("I still can't remember why," he related) he skipped the second grade and went directly into the third. He got along with everyone in the school. He made many childhood friends and ran around after school with his brothers playing popular games of the day.

With his extremely bright and logical mind, Clarence did well with all of his studies and in all classroom activities. He was an outgoing, happy, and well adjusted child. Until something happened that changed his whole school career and life around. Something so devastating to him that it had a profound effect upon the rest of his childhood, adolescent years, and well into young manhood.

The event occurred in September of 1913. Clarence was in the fifth grade. His favorite brother, Dick, contracted a childhood disease, the nature of which Clarence didn't remember. This particular childhood disease occurring in an era of inadequate medical care and knowledge - proved fatal. Clarence fell apart. He was devastated and fell into a tailspin of depression.

He and his inseparable brother were, by a cruel twist of fate, separated. They were separated forever. The funeral on November 3, 1913, was a day of disaster for Clarence. He did not want to attend it. He cried. He screamed. He was depressed, and he refused to say good by to the only person in the world with whom he had felt the most comfortable and best. In one month Clarence would be eleven years old. A time that was supposed to be special in his young life. His brother, his friend, and his confidant would not be there to celebrate or share it with him. He felt that life was almost not even worth living.

His studies went downhill in a rapid and steady spiral. He became withdrawn, extremely depressed, and lost most of his former self image and confidence. A confidence that had been so often bolstered by the closeness and friendship of his older brother.

Clarence's father tried to comfort and help guide him through this trying time in his young life. But his mother had not overcome her disappointment at Clarence's not being a daughter. Her not yet being resolved over the death of her son Dick made things worse. Jenny was not supportive at all. She was lost in her own grief and, as ever, distant towards her unwanted son, Clarence.

As fate would have it, a couple of years after Dick's death, Clarence's father was called to go with his concessions. He traveled constantly around the country. After that, the only contact that Clarence had with his father was by mail. In a letter dated June 17, 1915, and postmarked from Lansing, Michigan, Clarence's father described what was going on and of the new additions to the amusement park: "We have a lot of shows, an Eli Ferris Wheel, and a 3 abreast merry-go-round." He also wrote, complaining of something amusement parks always dreaded: "We also have plenty of bad weather. We could not show Monday night here on account of rain, and is raining here now, and don't think we can show tonight." He continued to write in the letter that he expected to be in Flint, Michigan the following week. He wrote Clarence: "...Tell your Ma, that I do not want any laundry sent me till next week." Included with the letter to Clarence was a book of passes to the Aikes Amusement Co. This little booklet had been issued by Chas. H. Snyder and signed over to "Clarence & Strand Theatre." The rides that were listed inside carried such names as, "Carry-us-all," "Fifteen-in-one," "Motordome" and "Musical Comedy."

In another letter, this one dated Saturday, September 14, 1918, 4:00 PM, and postmarked Weston, West Virginia, Clarence's father chastised him for not writing. He wrote, "I sure expected a letter in Clarksburg, but got none. If you want to make a good business man of yourself, you must answer letters promptly."

His father always stressed that Clarence should be a good business person and always be the best at whatever he did in life. In another letter dated September 9, 1918, and postmarked Wheeling, West Virginia, Clarence's father wrote, giving Clarence business directions. The letter started off, "Well Hello, Mgr. Clarence." It continued, "You can give Ma $26.50, and pay the charges on the canvass and the small register when it comes."

At the age of sixteen Clarence was managing his father's concessions at Luna Park. This was a formidable responsibility for one so young. His father wrote on the back of the envelope that along with managing the business, Clarence should "pay good attention to school." His father, being a consummate business person, always signed his letters to Clarence, "C.H. Snyder" or, "C.H.S." He never concluded his correspondence with "Your father," or even, "Dad." There was never any love either expressed or implied. Only business and a request for a "report of what you done etc." But Clarence acquired a drive for pleasing his father an being a "good business man" which lasted throughout his life in all of his dealings. Despite his later drinking, Clarence always drove himself towards perfection in business. A perfection that his father had always demanded of him. Eventually, even in recovery, perfection permeated Clarence's thoughts and actions. Clarence had very little tolerance for failure, in himself and in others.

The Cleveland school system had, at that time instituted, Junior High School. Clarence, however after graduating from public school by the "skin of my teeth," went directly from eighth grade into High School. He hadn't had the opportunity or advantage of taking preparatory courses in advanced math or English. Nor had he been able to learn at the pace of his peers in school. When he did transfer over to Cleveland's East Side High School, he felt not only at a loss, but very much out of place. He felt as if he didn't belong there. His self image and confidence had not yet fully recovered enough for him to inform his teachers that he had not gone through Junior High School, had not taken any preparatory courses and felt that he couldn't keep up with any of the other students in his classes. All this seemed overwhelming to Clarence at the time, and he began to withdraw even further into his own little world. Withdraw so that he could at least begin to feel a little bit comfortable with life itself, no less with school or with those around him.

This withdrawal was interpreted by his teachers as a sign of ignorance. Some took it as rebellion. Many branded him and ridiculed him as a "first class dummy." Some teachers placed a chair in front of the classroom in a conspicuous position and demanded that Clarence sit there. This was done to show other students the results of being rebellious, and it set Clarence up to ridicule. He related, "I wasn't any great shakes of a student in High School, so I failed almost all of my classes." After three years as a freshman, another devastating event began to develop which, once again, had a profound impact and altered the course of Clarence's young life.

He was about seventeen years old when his father contracted tuberculosis. This forced his father to quit his traveling and remain at home, something that, for a long time, Clarence had secretly been wishing for. However, not in this way, and not with the fatal results.

Once more in Clarence's life, due to the lack of knowledge by the medical profession, Clarence watched his father suffer, just as he had done years earlier with his brother. He watched for many months as his father's health declined. He watched until his father eventually succumbed. When his father did pass on, Clarence was afforded the opportunity to quit school and venture out into the world of full time employment. Clarence saw no promising future in continuing on with his education. With the urgent and overwhelming need to support himself and help with the family expenses, he decided to leave school. He dropped out and started on his journey into the world of life and adulthood. A journey that fate had assigned to him, not one of his own making or choosing.

Looking back, Clarence remembered that one of the most important events in his High School days was his meeting a young woman and embarking on his first real romance. Clarence was no stranger to the members of the opposite sex. Years later, he remarked, "For some unknown reason I always took a liking to the girls."

He remembered that once, when he was about five years old, he had "eloped" with the little girl from across the street. Clarence and his brothers, Charles and Dick, were going to Luna Park one Sunday evening to go on the rides and play the games at the concessions which their father ran. In accordance with his mother's custom on Sundays, Clarence was all dressed up in white. A white peanut hat, knee socks, knickers, shirt, and patent leather shoes. On Sundays, he was allowed out in the morning to play in his regular clothing, but by the afternoon he had to return home to bathe and get dressed up in his all white outfit. Then was ordered by his mother to stay spotless and clean until it was time for him to retire to bed for the night. "God forbid that I got one spot on my uniform of the day," he remembered. If this happened he would have to answer to his mother and her stone backed hair brush, and he dreaded that.

Clarence remembered that, on this one particular evening, Florence Drew, his sweetheart from across the street was going along with the Snyder family to Luna Park. Florence was the daughter of the family butcher. The Drews were long time friends of the Snyders. After Florence Drew and the Snyders had arrived at the park, gone on some of the rides, played games at the concessions, and eaten lots of cotton candy, Clarence and Florence had disappeared. They vanished from both parental and sibling supervision. They had strolled over to Rockefeller Park to play with a "cute little dog." Until well after dark, they played with and "tormented" this dog, oblivious to the passage of time. Then, they realized it was late and began to make what must have seemed to them the long and scary trek homeward. Home being many blocks away.

By this time Clarence's parents had sent out search parties. Florence's parents had called the police. Both sets of parents had scoured the neighborhood and park. All to no avail. Both families were fraught with terror, fearing the fate that their respective children might have suffered. They were also very angry and discussed among themselves the fate that their wayward children would suffer if and when they finally did arrive home.

Clarence's white, spotless Sunday outfit had been through the sand and dirt of the park. It was covered with muddy little paw prints and it was, of course, no longer white and spotless.

Clarence managed to find his way home and walked Florence to just outside of her door. However, out of fear for himself, he ran away before Florence knocked. He, himself stayed out even later, knowing the state of disarray that his clothing was in. A state that he said, "was no means in comparison to the mess my mother made of me when I got home." Florence got her spanking from her parents across the street, but it was nowhere like near the beating Clarence suffered that night. The beating was administered by his mother with her stone backed hair brush. That same brush that, once again, as it had so many times before, and had so many times after, etched its impressions of little fish all over Clarence's body.

Clarence was not at all unfamiliar with work. When he was five, he had a paper route. A few years later, he delivered orders for a local butcher shop (not the one owned by Florence's parents) on his bicycle. A bicycle that he had purchased with his own money. Clarence was very industrious and continuously looked for ways to earn money. Always looking for an angle, he was willing to try anything.

He even worked for a period of time as an usher at the Metropolitan Theatre in downtown Cleveland. This was in the days of the five and ten cent movies. Cliff-Hangers and daily newsreels. Clarence recalled, "The Metropolitan was a high class joint. They had the nerve to charge thirty cents when everybody else was charging a nickel." He had gotten his friend a job there and they both worked for the manager, Bill Friedman at the theater. On many occasions they would sneak their girlfriends in for nothing and then would "schmooze" in the box seats after everyone was seated and the movie had started.

Being industrious, Clarence found out that the Board of Education was paying twenty cents an hour for tutors. Clarence got a job reading school work to a blind boy named Larry. Much of what Clarence had missed in High School, he later learned through this job. He also began taking violin lessons, paying for them with some of the money he had earned on his various and sundry jobs. Clarence became very close to Larry and his family. All Remained close for many years to come.

Clarence enjoyed driving cars and did so at every available opportunity. Larry's family would let Clarence drive them all over Cleveland and the surrounding areas and it was on one of those outings that another profound event occurred in Clarence's life which once and forever altered the course of his very existence. On this particular outing, Clarence had his first introduction to "John Barleycorn."

It was at this first introduction that Clarence experienced his first of many, for-years-to-come, drunken episodes. In his youth, Clarence was to have only three such episodes, and each ended with his getting both drunk and into trouble.

On this first occasion, Clarence had driven Larry's parents and Larry to their family reunion in Toledo, Ohio. There he was offered a drink. He didn't like the taste so much, but he did like the effect the drink was having upon him. He then proceeded to get quite drunk rather quickly on all the free flowing booze that was made available. By the time that the party was over, Clarence was unable to find the car that they had arrived in, and was unable to negotiate the long drive back to Cleveland.

This did not at all please Larry's parents, nor Larry for that matter. From that day forward, they wouldn't let Clarence drive them around any longer. Despite the disastrous events of that day, Clarence remained close friends. Much later on, they were even able to laugh about it.

The second time that Clarence became involved with alcohol, it was again at a family reunion. This one in Alliance, Ohio. The parents of a young woman Clarence was dating offered to take him to their family reunion. This was as long as he did all the driving. They were a friendly and outgoing family. Clarence enjoyed the company not only of the young woman, but of her parents as well.

When the group arrived at this reunion, there was dancing, party games, home cooked foods, friendly people, and much to Clarence's delight - plenty of home-made, Dandelion Wine. In fact, an unlimited supply.

Clarence loved to dance and despite the disastrous effects that alcohol had caused him on the previous outing, he tasted the sweet wine. He recognized it seemed to make the dancing more enjoyable. The more he consumed, the faster he drank, and the more he liked the effect the liquor was having upon his personality. It made him feel more at ease, less self conscious, and eventually, invincible.

He became totally different, and he felt, better person. So much so, that he made a play for his girlfriend's mother. The mother was flattered and enjoyed the attention being lavished upon her by this young man. However, the attentions didn't sit too well with the girlfriend, or with her irate father. Needless to say, the ride back to Cleveland was tense and very long. Clarence recalled, "I guess that episode contributed to the ending of that relationship real quick." Clarence chuckled as he related that story. He thought that many of the events of his past, despite some of the pathos, had their humorous side.

Ever since his young childhood, Clarence went to Sunday school. Not because his parents were religious people. It was a way they kept him out of the house, occupied, and out of trouble. He said he never felt comfortable with any of the other children who had attended this school with him. He stated he felt everyone looked at him as different. He himself felt inferior to, and different from them. He was sure that the way that his mother had treated him while he was growing up, had a great deal to do with his distorted perceptions at Sunday school.

Clarence decided that since he wasn't a good student, the other children would have to look at him differently if he could excel in something - anything. He felt he then wouldn't feel so different and so inferior.

He began to develop a strong and growing interest in sports. He was slow at first, but he began to excel. He rapidly acquired an expertise at the sports he did try, especially those he liked. At first, it was baseball. Then, as the seasons changed, he was on to master basketball. Later on, he got the opportunity to play semi-professional sports. That is until his professional career as full-time alcoholic interfered. Earlier, however, he used sports, and his obvious innate ability at them, to improve his flagging self image and his low self esteem.

He also sought to improve upon his dancing. He felt he was such a "natural dancer," that he took only two lessons at the Zimmermans Dancing School. But he then decided he was wasting both his precious time and hard-earned money. Money he felt could be better spent on women and other "fun" activities.

One early winter day, while practicing basketball for a YMCA Church league, Clarence noticed a very attractive young blond woman on the sidelines. She appeared to be watching him intently. Never one to miss an obvious opportunity, especially when it came to women. Clarence rushed over to the woman to inquire when he could go out with her on a date. He knew that if he could take her to a dance, he could impress her with his dancing abilities. He was sure he would then be on"home ground." He would feel comfortable and would very much be in charge of the situation. After only five minutes of conversation, the young woman told him that she lived on the south side of Cleveland and she would love to go to a dance with him.

Clarence picked her up to go to the dance and they took the streetcar. They talked all the way to the dance. Clarence charmed his way into her heart. Always the salesman, he sold himself to this new person.

The two had a lovely evening, dancing, talking, and holding each other tight as they whirled about the dance floor. All was lovely until it was time for Clarence to take the young lady home. Then it turned out to be an exceptional evening.

When they arrived at the girl's home, she invited Clarence in to spend some more time with her and to talk. In the ensuing conversation Clarence discovered she was a preacher's daughter and that she had a genuine interest in sports. This was wonderful. So Clarence had found out how much she loved to dance, that she loved sports, that she enjoyed being held close, and that she laughed at his jokes.

However, when she produced a gallon jug of wine from the cellar, he decided he had found a match made in heaven. Both drank until way after midnight, finishing off the entire jug. Unfortunately for Clarence, the relationship had to end.

In fact it ended before it really had a chance to take blossom. The girl's father discovered them. Both were extremely drunk, and all the father's wine was missing. Wine he used in Holy Communion. The father was perturbed, to say the least, and asked Clarence to leave. Never to darken the man's doorstep again and never to speak with his daughter.

The taste of alcohol wasn't as important to Clarence as how it made him feel inside. It produced in him a profound personality change that transformed him and made him no longer feel inferior. He no longer felt different. He had used sports to assert himself and to become an equal. Equal to his peers and to others, often playing to the point of exhaustion. But he found that alcohol made him feel more than equal. And he readily asserted himself while under its influence. This without the strenuous physical labor. He had discovered the easier softer way. This was the beginning of his descent into the spiraling abyss of active alcoholism.

It was at another dance - this one in the month of January - that he met someone who was to become very special in his life. Her name was Dorothy. Clarence swept her off of her feet and danced his way into her heart, and she into his. In about three months they were married.

Clarence had always been reluctant to discuss his first two marriages. Therefore many of the dates and events are now lost to history. However, with this, his first marriage- the marriage to Dorothy- does our saga begin.


"Our stories disclose in a general way,
WHAT WE USED TO BE LIKE..."

Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contentions? Who hath babbling? Who hath wounds without cause? Who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they that go seek mixed wine. Look not then upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things. Yea thou shalt be as he that liveth down in the midst of the sea, or as he that liveth upon the top of a mast. They have striken me, shalt thou say and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt it not; When shall I awake? I will seek it yet again.

Proverbs 23: 29-35 (The Bible - King James Version)

Clarence's marriage to Dorothy cannot be described as idyllic. Even though Clarence had swept her off of her feet, Dorothy, with her close family ties, had "swept" Clarence off on their honeymoon. She swept him off to her sister Virginia's house in the City of Yonkers, in Westchester County, New York.

Dorothy and her sisters were, to say the least, very close. Clarence complained that they did everything together. He said he didn't just marry Dorothy. He also had married her entire family. In spite of the fact he constantly complained about them, Clarence recognized that Dorothy and her family had been instrumental in his recovery, and Clarence was always grateful to Dorothy's "clan."

Clarence became and remained a periodic drunk for a number of years. He and Dorothy moved to 1552 Baltimore Road, in Lindhurst, Ohio, and began to settle down.

They had friends, mostly Dorothy's. They had a home. Clarence had a good job, working for the Mutual Loan and Guaranty Company in the Discount Department. What happened next seemed to be the next logical move. They decided that it was about time to start a family.

Dorothy became pregnant, and everyone concerned was overjoyed. The proud father-to-be strutted around, pontificating about his "common-sense, sane, domestic life." He strutted around, that is, until Dorothy began complaining of problems associated with early pregnancy. His "sane, domestic life" started taking on a different, if not ominous, complexion. Dorothy stayed in bed for days on end. She changed her diet, her sleeping patterns, and her room. All to no avail. Dorothy's sanity was fading rapidly.

They consulted a local doctor who recommended the use of "Porter Ale." They tried this "cure," borrowing some of that ale from one of their neighbors, an amateur brewmeister. It worked! Clarence consulted with other local brewmeisters as to how he could go about manufacturing this "cure" himself. He bought a six-gallon crock, dozens of bottles, and various and sundry pipes, wires and other apparatus necessary for his construction of his home brewery. He began to put everything together and hoped his life would return to some semblance of sanity.

Sanity was, however, not the end result. He not only manufactured the beer for his wife, he also drank most of it for her as well. He recalled, admiringly, "I made some of the best ale that anyone ever had the pleasure to drink. After about two bottles of that stuff, you would go home and rob your own trunk."

Dorothy, remaining uncomfortable, continued to complain. Clarence increased his production capability. He went out and purchased a few ten-gallon crocks and cases of bottles. These, he felt, would surely return his life to sanity.

All of Dorothy's problems in early pregnancy, as well as her continuing complaining, eventually stopped. But the beer production, and the massive consumption of it, did not. They increased.

The excuses to continue drinking became more prevalent. Parties, card games, and friends, were constantly invited over for coffee and cake, but the events all became beer feasts. Soon Clarence ran out of excuses for drinking, and he just drank. He then discovered that: "a little shot of liquor now and then between the beers had the tendency to put me in a wacky mood much quicker than having to down several quarts of beer to obtain the same results." So, now whiskey became the mainstay, and the beer just helped to wash it all down.

Clarence then became the primary topic of discussion in Dorothy's family gatherings. There was not much else to talk about concerning the pregnancy. Besides, Clarence's drinking was a much juicier topic.

Rather than listen to these "busybodies," Clarence began to frequent the local beer joints. This, he said, was: "to quench my ever increasing thirst, and to complain to all who would listen, about my wife and her meddlesome family." Clarence's increased consumption did not help him to lose his resentments towards those who he perceived were trying to run his life. He did, however, manage to lose his job instead.

It was also about this time that Dorothy gave birth to their son, Charles Richard Snyder. The son was named not only after Clarence's father, but also for Clarence's brother, who had died as a child. Their son was rarely called by his first name, but rather, was referred to as "Dick" - the name that everyone had used for Clarence's brother.

Clarence got another job - this one at the Morris Plan Bank in the Collection Department. The bank was closer to his home than the previous bank; and Clarence now felt he could spend more time with his wife and newborn son.

In actuality however, he began spending more time patronizing the local saloons which dotted the streets on his route home. Four or five shots of whiskey, followed by a few beer chasers at one establishment, were but a beginning. If Dorothy happened to meet him at work, and walked him home, he only stopped at one or two bars, rather than the customary four or five. His lunches became the liquid variety, and the dinners (that he would be invariably late for), became non-existent as Clarence lost his appetite for real food. Dorothy even came to give up cooking, other than for herself and for their son.

By this point Clarence had become a daily drunk. He appeared drunk at his initial interview at the Morris Plan Bank. He remained on that job for three and a half years, all the while in a state of constant intoxication.

Clarence remembered that the only reason he had gotten the Morris Plan job was because of help of a close friend. This friend had worked with Clarence for seven years at Clarence's previous bank job and was now managing the Finance Department at Morris Plan. In addition to managing the Finance Department, the friend was also on the Board of Directors. Clarence related, "Joe knew that I was the best man for the job despite my being a drunk." Joe had also conveniently left out of his recommendation to the Morris Plan that hired Clarence, that Clarence had been terminated from his previous bank position for being drunk on the job on a consistent basis. Clarence figured, the Morris Plan had never seen him sober and wouldn't know the difference. He was, in his own sick way, proud of this kind of alcoholism, even though he did not, at that time, have a name for it.

Clarence opeined that he was a "chronic alcoholic, a daily drunk." This was a diagnosis of dubious value to Clarence. But it was a characteristic that he insisted upon and even took to his grave. Clarence had disdain for the periodic drunk even though at one time in his drinking career, he was one. "Periodics," he said, "are the people that give us drunks a bad name." Periodics, he felt are the type of people who "get a job, get a family, get a nice home, get a couple of nice cars, belong to a couple of clubs, and have a few kids. They also have some bills (dollars) in the bank. And, for no apparent reason, all of a sudden, this turkey gets drunk and down goes everything. Out go the wife and the family, the house, the bank account, the two cars and the furniture. Everything is gone and he's flat. Well, what does this monkey do? He goes and gets himself another job; and, what kills me with these fellows, is that they usually get a better one than they had before. This is rather a jealousy on my part. Then they get a new house, two new cars, a new wife, a new family, new bank account, new club, more exclusive this time, and away they go again. The next thing you know, BOOM! The whole thing goes up. Now, no wonder alcoholics are looked down upon. These kinds of people, you can't depend upon `em." Clarence felt that chronics were dependable daily drunks like himself. He said, "You always knew how they were going to be - DRUNK!"

At Morris Plan, Clarence - in a short period of time - had developed a full time department, with the best finance people and collectors that he could find and train. He was able, with his own system, to recoup thousands upon thousands of dollars for the bank. Eventually, he was promoted and made an officer of the bank.

He often came to work in the morning wearing the same clothing he had worn the day before. He vividly remembered that he was "stinking the office up." He would check his paperwork, touch base with his "boys", and then he was off and running. This routine lasted for about three and a half years.

During this time, his drinking had became progressively worse, and it was having a profound physical and emotional effect upon him. He lost a lot of weight and began to forget even the simplest things. At first, he forgot only minor thoughts, but later major ones. Appointments began to be missed, opportunities to recoup the bank's money and business in general began to slip. Clarence's "boys" began to take advantage of his loss of memory.

Clarence was forgetting things he had said or done only moments before. He began to have temporary blackouts. Often he would be sitting at his desk and just staring into space. He would be talking with a customer, stop in mid-sentence, and start doing something else, completely unaware of what had previously transpired.

The people in his department talked with him, even attempted to cajole him into quitting or even cutting on his liquor consumption. All of this failed. He continued to get worse. Morris Plan didn't want to lose him. He was the best manager they had ever had. But nothing they tried worked. Soon not even Clarence worked.

The Bank Vice President _ whom Clarence described as "a strict Lutheran, a fine gentleman, who wouldn't cause or do anything out of the way" just blew up at Clarence one morning. The bank officer had become so frustrated with trying to help Clarence with his drinking problem that he just gave up. He started jumping up and down and screaming. He told Clarence that he, Clarence was the best in the business, if only he could stop destroying himself. The Vice President pleaded for Clarence to look at what he was doing to his job, his family, his friends and all those who loved and cared about and for him. But all of this was to no avail. Clarence was unwilling _ in fact unable - to listen to the voice of reason. He had a bad case of tunnel vision, and all that was in the tunnel was his alcohol.

The Vice President gave Clarence two weeks notice, that he was being terminated. Clarence was even told he didn't have to report in to work for those two weeks and that the bank would pay him anyway. Clarence still didn't listen. He kept coming in to work each and every morning. He was drunk and unable to stop. He was afraid to stay at home and had avoided telling Dorothy he had been dismissed. Afraid to tell her that this was yet another position that had been taken away from him for being a drunk.

The two weeks quickly passed, and the fateful day finally arrived. The Executive Vice President called Clarence into his office. Clarence related, "He gave me my last hurrah. He told me all that crap that they tell you when you get fired. What a talent you have, much you wasted it. What you could have done in this bank... my future was shot and I'll never have any now." He gave Clarence his final pay check and told him to go upstairs clean out his desks.

Clarence slowly walked out of the office, his head bowed - once again a failure. He walked up the flight of stairs to what had been his own office. Walked there for the last time, feeling dejected and ashamed. The only thought that ran through his mind concerned how much he wanted - no, needed - a drink.

As he arrived at his office, Clarence opened the door. SURPRISE! His whole department was there, and so were many of the other bank employees. The office was decorated for a party, and party they did.

Both of his desks were filled with presents and the other desks were covered with bottles of alcohol. Clarence told the author "Now who gets fired for being drunk and has a going away party with presents AND booze? Nobody but some bloody drunk. That doesn't happen to regular people."

After Clarence left Morris Plan, he had several jobs which scarcely lasted for more than a few weeks each. His last one was for a finance company. He recalled, "I was supposed to dig up new business." He would sneak in every morning before the other employees got there. Only the switchboard operator would be on duty that early in the morning. He would check his desk for messages and quickly and quietly run out before any of the other workers had a chance to arrive. The switchboard operator reported to her employers that Clarence had indeed checked in each and every morning. However, after spending three weeks on that job and not producing a single bit of new business, or even servicing any of the old accounts, Clarence was once again fired. Dismissed for drunken behavior and non-productivity.

Clarence was "between jobs" after that for several years. In 1933, he and an old acquaintance discussed going into business together. Stan Zeimnick wrote Clarence, on September 18, 1933, suggesting their going into the brewing business on a professional level. Stan said his main concern was that, "some, or rather most, beer-place proprietors say that naturally they expect a decided slump in beer sales soon, but that they don't know much about small towns; they may drink beer in the winter nearly as much. Of course that's our gamble." This business venture never materialized, and Clarence continued to retain his amateur standing as a home brewmeister and, of course, beer consumer.

He went on interviews, answered advertisements in the help wanted columns, and walked into store fronts to inquire about jobs. He begged his former friends and business associates for jobs. He did everything he could. Everything, that is, except stop drinking. Even Dorothy, who was at that time the manager of the men's department of a local employment agency, couldn't do anything for her husband.

He would show up for job interviews drunk, reeking of alcohol, and his appearance was, to say the least, disheveled. Quite often, his reputation as a drunk had preceded him. He had no luck acquiring a position doing anything.

Clarence was often the main topic of discussion at numerous family conclaves. These occurred on a weekly basis, and he was discussed daily over the telephone. Everybody agreed that he was a "great guy" when he was sober. However, he was no longer ever sober.

After one of these weekly meetings, Dorothy's family finally came up with a last-ditch opportunity for Clarence. It was time, he was told, to sink or swim. Either he worked for Dorothy's brother, or he would be thrown out on to the street.

Dorothy's brother owned a tractor-trailer rig. He hauled merchandise over-the-road between Cleveland and New York City with various stops in-between. Clarence was to learn how to drive this tractor-trailer and go into business with his brother-in-law.

The very prospect of this frightened Clarence. The thought of learning how to drive one of those large trucks, with all of that freight looming behind you, was unappealing. What was even less appealing, and was the second most, but more important consideration, was the thought of hard work "which this job reeked of." It didn't sit right with him. But the thought that frightened Clarence the most, paramount over all of the others - was the thought that his brother-in-law would never allow him to have a drink. Not even a single beer on the hottest of summer days after driving a thousand miles.

This was spelled out in no uncertain terms and in so many different ways, Clarence could not find any excuse or loophole to get around it or out of it: Swim or sink. It was the truck and the open road or the street.

The thought of being on the bum, with winter rapidly approaching, was less appealing than the dismal prospect which now faced him. Clarence agreed to take the truck job, though rather reluctantly. He did, however, retain a silent reservation that, at the first opportunity that was afforded to him, he would pick up just one drink. Maybe two. Just enough to enable him to feel better but not enough to be noticed by his brother-in-law as being drunk. Clarence thought, in so doing, he wouldn't risk everything, and being left on the streets, in a strange place, with no money, and in the cold of winter.

A couple of nights later, Clarence and his brother-in-law had begun their trip to New York City via Albany and Buffalo. Clarence didn't have any clothing to speak of, not even an overcoat. He had sold most of it to purchase alcohol for his last hurrah. Out of necessity, he had packed light. In fact, he had packed all that was left of his clothing in a little duffel bag. He was to sleep, it was decided, in the top back sleeping compartment, the perch of the cab. His brother-in-law was to sleep on the seat itself so that Clarence couldn't leave the truck without being noticed. Even if the brother-in-law was asleep.

Over the preceding few days, Clarence had managed to save a small amount of change in nickels and dimes. This small hoard, he decided, was to be used in case of emergency. He had surmised that an emergency would indeed eventually arise. He carefully wrapped these few coins in a handkerchief and placed the handkerchief snugly in the bottom of his trouser pocket. He made sure it wouldn't move at all so the coins wouldn't make any noise, be noticed and be confiscated.

Clarence had not been able to get away from his brother-in-law for even a single moment. He had not had a drink all day. Before they started the trip, Clarence had consumed all of the alcohol that was hidden in the house, and his bags had been thoroughly searched by Dorothy just prior to his departure. All the bottles that had been stashed were summarily removed and dumped down the kitchen sink in full view of Clarence and Dorothy's gathered family.

Clarence was in a bad way. Sick, shivering, coughing, and throwing up out of the window of the truck. He was not allowed to leave his brother-in-law's sight. When they stopped for breakfast, Clarence had no appetite, but had to go into the diner anyway. He sat with his arms folded across his shaking body.

At one point, Clarence became nauseous and bolted for the bathroom, probably due to Clarence's watching everyone eating and smelling the aroma of the food. His brother-in-law quickly followed him in to the bathroom. Clarence was followed everywhere he went and was watched at all times. His brother-in-law was under very strict and specific orders and knew he would have to answer to the family if anything went wrong.

Early in the evening they stopped for the night in Albany, New York. Clarence's brother-in-law was exhausted from all the driving and from having to watch each and every move that Clarence made. He decided to pull over to the side of the street and catch a few hours of much needed sleep. Clarence saw his awaited opportunity and seized it.

He convinced his brother-in-law that he had never been to Albany and that he wanted to see the Capitol building. He told the brother-in-law that this was something he had always wanted to see. He even offered to take him with him for security. He begged, and he pleaded. He pointed to the building, which was all lit up in the darkened night sky. His brother-in-law was so exhausted he couldn't and didn't have the strength to argue any more with Clarence. He eventually just gave up. He assumed Clarence had no money and therefore couldn't get into any trouble. He mumbled, "Good-by and don't come back too late." He then immediately drifted off into a sound sleep.

Clarence did not have any intention of seeing the Capitol. He did however, have what he thought, was a "capital idea." That idea was: As he got out of the view of the truck, he would run as fast as he could to the nearest bar. And this he did.

The first place Clarence came across was a little too rich for his blood. He then ran a few more blocks to a "seedier neighborhood." He quickly located something more to his stature and position in society, "a dump." He carefully pulled out his handkerchief and untied it slowly, with his now trembling hands, so that none of his "bank" would fall out. He walked into the bar. He said he "plopped all the change on to the bar in one loud clatter and I ordered a drink." He quickly downed that drink and, without waiting, ordered another.

As was Clarence's good fortune, he met a benefactor. He recalled: "I met an angel, I think he was a fairy, but I'll call him an angel. Because he started to ply me with drinks and he was putting them up as fast as I could drink `em. This was great. But then things started getting a little stuffy, and I thought it was about time I take my leave. So I went to the men's room, locked the door, went out the window, and headed back for the truck. I imagine this guy is still waiting for me there."

Clarence did not run back to the truck. He was unable to. He walked as best he could. By the time he returned to the place where the truck was parked, all of the alcohol he had consumed began to take its effect. He was not in the best control of his body.

While trying to climb back into the truck and into his sleeping perch, he stepped on his brother-in-law's face. Awakened with a start, smelling the stench that emanated from Clarence's body, and observing him weaving back and forth the brother-in-law put two and two together. After much loud arguing and having to restrain himself from beating Clarence to a pulp, the brother-in-law explained this was to have been Clarence's last chance. He told Clarence that as soon as they arrived in New York City, he would have to put Clarence out and leave him there.

"Dumped." Never to return home to Dorothy or Cleveland, for that matter, ever again. Regardless of how much Clarence begged and pleaded, New York City was to be his last stop. Dejected and devoid of all hope, Clarence crawled up into his perch to sleep, wishing that this was all an alcohol-induced nightmare or hallucination.

When they had arrived at the New York waterfront, true to his promise, the brother-in-law dumped Clarence on the docks and warned, "Never dare come back to Cleveland!" Clarence got down on his knees and begged, crying with all of the earnestness at his command.

The words "good riddance" were heard and echoed throughout his head as the big truck released its air brakes. It lumbered away and faded off into the distant unknown and foreign streets. Clarence was left there, on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks on to the cold and dirty concrete.

There he was, no other clothing than that which was on his back and in the little duffel bag. Winter was rapidly approaching, and he had no money. The only person Clarence knew was his sister-in-law Virginia.

Clarence felt: "She owed me plenty." According to Clarence, due to an indiscretion that her husband had come home early to witness, Virginia had been forced to flee Westchester County and to come and live with Clarence and Dorothy. Clarence, who at that time was still working, paid for all of Virginia's bills, including one for an operation when she had taken ill. He fed, clothed, and sheltered her. "She owed me plenty, you better believe that," he related.

Clarence began to make his way up to Yonkers, a suburb of New York City. By the time he had gotten there, he remembered that Virginia lived way up on top of a long hill. By this time Clarence was very thirsty. So much so after his long ordeal, that he decided he couldn't make it up the hill.

He went instead down another hill. Down into what he remembered as an Italian neighborhood. He recalled, "This being bootleg days, all Italians had wine. A lot of them made it. Some of `em sold it. They all drank it. Some of them shared it with their friends. So I went down there and made friends."

A few days later, exactly how many he didn't remember, he finally managed to make it up the hill to Virginia's home. One of the few things that he remembered about that visit was that he was drunk. He was drunk, as usual, dirty, and probably smelled bad, he thought. He also vaguely remembered that he was rolling around on the floor with Virginia's two little girls. They were two or three years old at the time.

When Virginia came home, she did not take too kindly to this sight. She told Clarence, in no uncertain terms, that he had to leave. To insure this, she placed him in the back seat of her car and drove him down to the same waterfront area in New York City from which he had started. Virginia threw him out of the car - rather, dragged him out, just as her brother had done previously. Clarence once again begged and pleaded. He got down on his knees and cried. He reminded Virginia that he had taken her in and that she owed him, at least just this once. But this was all to no avail.

Virginia admonished Clarence, not to return either to her home or back to Cleveland to her sister, Dorothy. This time he was threatened with being arrested if he dared to return. Virginia got back into her car without looking back, slammed the door and drove off.

Once again Clarence was left on the cold, concrete street, tears running down his cheeks. He had never felt so all alone in his life. He had no money, no real clothing to speak of, no friends, no family and no hope. "No nothing." He swore that he would never pick up another drop of alcohol in any way shape or form ever again. This he swore to the heavens above at the top of his lungs. He had to exist, so exist he did as best he knew how.

As was the case in the mid 1930's, many of the truckers left their rigs on the waterfront beneath the elevated roadway. They spent their nights in cheap rooming houses or hotels to shower and to get some needed sleep. Some of those who parked their trucks were also looking for entertainment. The kind of entertainment that a cab of a tractor-trailer could not accommodate. At least not comfortably.

These men needed someone to watch their trucks. And Clarence used all his best sales techniques to convince them he was indeed their perfect watchman. He did manage to convince quite a few. He was paid fifty cents a night to watch over their trucks. In some, he slept snugly, insulated from the damp and bone chilling cold.

Back in those days, Clarence bought his booze in a wallpaper store for seven cents a pint. He recalled that his "special mix" was comprised of "denatured alcohol, mixed with water and anything else that I could get a hold of to mix it with. It wasn't the best, but it did the trick. It knocked ya out." For the most part he always had at least two or three pints of that "mix" with him. So much for Clarence's swearing to the heavens that he would never pick up another drink.

Here he was, dumped on to the docks of New York City. Not once but twice. He had a warm place to sleep and plenty of booze. He was earning fifty cents a day, and, at seven cents a pint, he was saving money.

Being a survivor, he also found clever and devious ways to get clothing to ward off the winter chill and thereby stay "healthy." He also found ways of getting something to eat when he was hungry, which wasn't very often.

He attended services at the various missions around the city in order to obtain the bare necessities of existence. This being the time of the great depression, there was never any shortage of missions. All he had to do was get there, go inside, get up, and sing.

He couldn't, however, stand their food. No matter how hungry he had gotten, mission food was something that he had detested. The food was usually overstocks, leftovers, or spoiled goods that were donated by various establishments.

Because of its usually deteriorated condition, the food was always sprayed with and saturated by, "bug juice." Clarence said of this insecticide, "Everything is bug juice. You go in there. They spray you with it, your clothing - they spray everything. Bugs are running every place you look, all over, in and around everything. They seemed to eat that spray. They got fat on it. They thrived off of it, I think."

So, rather than eat mission food, Clarence devised another way to eat for free. Clarence discovered the automat. He related, "The automat was a place with lots of little square windows, walls of `em with different foods behind each window. You put in your nickel or dime through this little slot and turned the knob. The window popped open, and you took out your food. One window for soup, one for sandwiches, one for beans etc."

He had observed that almost everyone in New York City was always "on the run." He found out from experience that, if you stood outside of one of the large office buildings at noon "you took your life in your hands." Everyone it seemed, would run out as if in one big "swarm" in order to rush off to lunch. He said, "Some of `em had as much as a half hour." They would then "gulp" down their food and run back to work again.

Clarence watched these, as he called them, "idiots" for hours and even days at a time. He found them very amusing to watch. Probably some of those same "idiots" didn't find his antics so amusing.

He watched as they would run into the automat. They wouldn't even sit down. They stood at a counter or small table. He related, "A little round thing there, there's three or four of `em at a counter." Clarence watched them eating and talking. Some were reading the newspaper and eating. Sometimes they were doing all of these things at once. "They didn't even know what they were eating," he said. He then came upon what he thought was an ingenious and foolproof plan - a scheme. He devised a plan to get some of this food to himself for free.

He said this of his plan: "I went out to the curbstone and took out one of my paws, and I rubbed it into the dirt and filth out in this gutter and dirtied this hand up. I came in and stood aside one of these guys and put this hand up in some guys food, Now this takes a little crust to do this; but if you know human nature, you can get away with it. This guy turns around and sees this, and he wants to belt me. So, I look at him. I'm starving. I have this look on my face. He can't hit me. He can't do it. It's just too much for him. He gets so frustrated that he walks out and leaves that whole **** thing."

Clarence would then gather the food and take it back to the truck in which he was staying at the time. Sometimes this "foolproof" plan didn't work out so well. Sometimes he would get punched. Sometimes he would get thrown out. More often than not, though, he did get food. Enough to satisfy whatever appetite he did have left.

This went on for some time. He had a place to sleep, food to eat, clothing on his back, and booze to drink. He was still saving money, earning fifty cents a day, and spending seven cents a pint for his "mix."

This all was happening around October or November 1937. Clarence had spent the better part of a year living as a homeless person in New York City. A place that several months earlier, had been both foreign and frightening. This was just another indication to him of his resourcefulness and his instinct for survival in the face of adversity and absolute hopelessness.

However, as all good things must come to an end, Clarence began to develop a homing instinct. He felt that something, he wasn't sure of what it was, was calling him. Drawing him back to Cleveland, Ohio.

He gathered up his meager belongings, counted the money that he had saved, packed four or five pints of his "mix," and to set out for home. He was unsure of what, it anything, awaited him. He did know that he had to go home.

He convinced one of the truckers to give him a lift which took him in the general direction of Ohio. One trucker took him as far as Erie, Pennsylvania. Another took him to the outskirts of Cleveland. He was back in the area where he had been thrown out of his home almost one year earlier.

Back to someone who he thought was still his wife. Back to his son, and back to Dorothy's family. He was still unsure why he felt that he had to return, but he did know that he was glad to be back.

He knew his life seemed to be lost and hopeless, and he was unsure about how to regain it. He couldn't stop drinking. He had tried on numerous occasions with little or no success. He wanted some semblance of sanity back in his life. Yet he didn't know quite how to go about getting it or even who to ask how to get it.

He was truly lost and he was sure that "home" was where he would find what it was that he so desperately sought. He was in Ohio, home at last..

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reprint from: expectamiracle. com

My name is Heather Fulwider. I am from Miami, Florida and about six months
ago moved to Mount Tamborine, Queensland, Australia.

One of my miracle stories is about my family. For a long time I was moved
around with my family as my Dad was in the military. Although I depended on
them I always found my friends to be more my family.

At 21 years of age I became pregnant and had a son who is now almost 5. I
had dropped out of school, was working in a bar, had no direction in my
life and I felt that when I became pregnant my family would not be supportive
but in fact they were the opposite.

My two brothers were very supportive and became very excited uncles, my
Mom told me to come back home and my Dad told me to go back to school. So at
21, I was working full time and ten days after I quit my job, I gave birth
to my son and three months later I went back to school.

With the support of my family, I lived at my mother’s house for 3 years. I
raised my son with my mother’s support, she was like a stand-in Dad, my
Dad would help me at nights,

When I finished my degree, I discovered many of my other passions, along
with my son, health, exercise and just being with my family and during the
last six years I have begun to realise the power of family and it has helped
my to shape my son and helped him understand the power of family and has
also helped me bring my partner into our lives.

There has been a lot going on in my family where no-one turns their back
and walks away but stands alongside each other and it’s something that you
learn as you grow up and move around a lot you take it for granted. Having
my own son and starting my own family I have learned the hard way and it has
really opened my eyes and to me that is a miracle because some people go
their whole lives without knowing their family.

I truly know my family and the love my family has for me and the love I
have for my family, my son and my partner. That is my miracle story.:1: