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Web Exclusive: It's Never Too Late
It look him thirty years to realize that it's never to late to ask for help
I believed I couldn't have what those ''young'' guys had. This was when I was all of the ripe old age of forty-one.
The night of December 23, 1992 will always be etched in my mind. After over-serving myself at the company Holiday party, and attempting yet another brainless drive home, I was stopped by the state police.
Mindless to what tragedy could have happened, I sat handcuffed to a bench in a nearby district station, as I contemplated my arrest for driving under the influence. Wanting desperately to believe this was just a bad dream, the sight of my children in their footy pajamas holding their Mommy's hand, clarified a unmistakable reality.
Buffalo Grove, Illinois