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He found AA in prison and a new way to live
I took my first drink when I was 12. I got an older friend to buy a six-pack for me. We sat on a railroad signal light tower overlooking the town I grew up in and drank our beers. About an hour into our drinking, I had already spilled my guts and was in the process of puking up my dinner. I still don't remember how I got down off of that tower or how I made it home.
By the time I had that first drink, I was already riddled with fear, shame and anger. The source of all my turmoil began, I believe, with being raised in a family which appeared to be religious but in fact was anything...
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