December 2013: The sun rises with no help from me
As long as she takes the action, her Higher Power will do the rest
Today is Friday, December 28, 2012. Fifty years ago to the day and date—more than six years away from my first drink—I had my first encounter with alcoholism: I regained consciousness with a gun in my face, fortunately holstered. A man in dark clothes was standing over me demanding to know if I knew who he was. To this day I still consider it one of my greatest mental feats to have deduced (from the dark clothes and gun) that he was a policeman.
It turned out that I had survived a near fatal auto accident on my way home from work. The man who crashed into me—while I was...
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