May Articles Online
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On The Road
Wherever he goes, a traveler finds home in the Fellowship of AA
Hitting bottom in my active alcoholism didn't cost me everything, but it
did bring about sweeping changes in my life. I lost a lot,
more than enough to get my attention, including upheavals I thought
I'd rather die than face. tumbling down from the lofty life I had lived, I
landed in the arms of a great sponsor and a group of caring AA friends.
Following two difficult years of adjustment, I went back to school
for a new location, launching a life path in another direction. Wanting
desperately to maintain sobriety, I turned to an AA mentor and asked,
OK, what am I supposed to do now?" Smiling wryly, he said, Well, you're
supposed to carry the message."
That's what I tried to do. I became active in twelfth Step work, speaking at local meetings, contributing
to newsletters and periodicals, prison outreach, schools,
and community involvement—everything to carry the message."
Later, my interests took me out of town, out of state and out of the country. At times I
felt lonely away from familiar people and surroundings. I always had my
books and audiotapes for support, but I needed people, not to carry a
message to, but to be with. A different perspective came to mind: I needed
to carry the message with me. From this, I learned to find local meetings
and make contact with AA members during my travels, and soon this practice turned
into a great adventure.
A few years later, in a small Seattle motel, the next rooms were occupied by four couples on chopper
motorcycles, with tattoos, long hair and leathers. they had gathered in
the parking lot around their machines, smoking and talking. noticing the name of their riding group
displayed on their vests was the Fifth Chapter," curiosity overcame
me, and I walked over to them. Before I knew it, I was exchanging stories of motorcycle experiences in my
youth and how I lost the courage to ride because of active alcoholism. We shared about our AA programs,
and they said riding defined much of their own spirituality. Feeling
kindred with them, I was deeply touched.
Over the next year, I took a motorcycle safety course, found my perfect understated machine, and have
ridden it all over the country, from sea to sea and border to border.
For me too, riding encompasses much spirituality. those Fifth Chapter riders were people with whom
I would never have mixed, would never have been exposed to at home.
But I met them on the road while I was carrying my program with me,
and they were doing the same.
Another adventure was in western Colorado with a group of earth people" motorcyclists
attending a popular national racing competition. After several days of their partying
and drinking, I was okay, but I needed contact with some sober people. I found the local
meeting, and discovered most of the race's stewards and assistants were
my fellow sober AAs. They gathered me in like an old friend, and for the
rest of the races I was in the middle of all the actionÑin the pits, on the
grandstand, with the announcers, officials and the competing riders.
Through our central service office's speaker outreach, I visited many
smalltown AA meetings around my home state. Sober for eight years,
I made a pilgrimage to the International Convention in San Diego,
Calif. An amazing ocean of sobriety was there, more than 80,000 people pouring into
the convention center. Standing near the main entrance
watching the throng of happy people arrive, I happened to be wearing
a t-shirt naming my home area on the front. Mesmerized by the faces
of the people, I heard a voice behind me ask, Are you from Arkansas?"
The question was from a pleasant-looking young man, and I introduced myself and
told him I was indeed from Little Rock, Ark.
He said he had once lived in Monticello, a little farming community about 80 miles south of there. I
had visited and shared my story at that local AA meeting five years earlier. As I related this, his eyes grew
wide as saucers as he pointed at me and exclaimed, You're the guy from
behind the chair!"
That expression is a somewhat unique and integral part of my particular personal story,
and I was surprised he knew it. He said, I was there that night at that meeting.
that was my very first AA meeting, and I've been sober ever sinceÑover
five years now!" We were both astounded. Here we were on the other
side of the country, in the middle of over 80,000 strangers, and something very awesome had placed us
in front of one another. We both knew it, and neither of us had to
say it: a Higher Power was directing this. We spent the entire convention together, and maintained
contact over many ensuing years.
When I turned 50 years old and nine years sober in 1996, for a birthday gift my older brother gave
me a trip to Italy, accompanying him and a group of his friends. I stayed
reasonably comfortable while they drank and partied for several days.
But it so happened that my ninth sobriety anniversary occurred during
that trip, and, as usual, I'd checked the International Meeting Directory
for the local English-speaking group. The AA contact in Rome was originally from nebraska.
She'd been living in Rome for over 30 years and welcomed me like a long-lost relative.
She told me the local meeting was just around the corner from my hotel.
That evening, I went out early to find the location. I wandered down a
dusk-darkened neighborhood road well off the beaten path, where the
street signs were in Italian and the pedestrians spoke no English. A
large, old dark church stood on a corner, and on the side, over an almost hidden staircase
leading down to the basement, hung a small white
sign with just a blue circle and triangle. I was on the other side of the
world, but I was home.
It was early, but the door was open, and an old man was making
coffee and setting up chairs. He didn't speak any English, so I joined in and
helped him set up the rest of the chairs until some of the members arrived.
When the group asked for sobriety birthdays, they insisted that I
share with the group, some 50 men and women from all around the
world. They gave me a nine-year medallion, and pointed out that their
Roman coins used American numbers. We all had a good laugh over
that one. A few of them befriended me, and for the last days of the trip,
they showed me an inside view of Italy that few tourists get to experience.
Through all the years and travels, the Fellowship has always been
there. Sober sisters and brothers from everywhere have welcomed
me with warmth and love. My joy, it seems, is to just show up and carry
the message with me. A power greater than myself takes care of the rest.
Don G.
Temple, Texas
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