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At the Pier's Edge
Looking down at the swirling water, he thought maybe he should try AA first
I stood on a pier in Astoria, staring at the swift waters of the Columbia River. I had decided to commit suicide by chaining myself to heavy weights before jumping in the river.
After 29 years of drinking, I had quit and restarted hundreds of times. I had sincerely promised my wife over and over, had gotten on my knees and solemnly promised my children, "Dad, means it this time." I had vowed to God and prayed earnestly to be free from alcohol, was re-baptized twice, and most of all, I had made countless promises to myself. But I failed each time. I failed hundreds and hundreds of...
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