This month’s Special Section is “Annual Prison Issue” featuring stories of hope by AA members inside and out of prison walls.
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Today, I can say, “I love AA.” But it wasn’t always this way.
I attended my first AA meeting in 1981 in Alhambra, California. It was a blessing. I was 19.
Since 1987, one of the defining characteristics of my sobriety has been my participation in the NorCal (Northern California) Hospitals & Institutions (H&I) Committee.
I’ll never forget the speaker at my very first AA meeting. He was different in race, age and upbringing, but the story he told that night described exactly how I felt.
I grew up in a great family, with no history of anyone getting in trouble with the law or going to jail or prison. That history changed when alcohol took over my life.
I began earnestly looking for ways to be of service when I was six months sober. Soon, I heard that AA brought meetings into the county jail in my area and something clicked.
I’ll never forget sitting on my bunk wondering what had happened. How did I get locked up in this cell?
I was raised by parents who got sober when I was young. By age 13, I had experimented with liquor and gotten into trouble at school, which led my father to take me along with him to AA meetings.
The first time I read the Big Book, all I got out of it was that I needed to get “stuff” out of my head by writing it down. Get it “down on paper,” Bill wrote. So I started writing.
Not long ago, I was leaving one of the last meetings of a round-up weekend when I spotted several pens on a table.
I’m grateful that when I came into AA there were plenty of good examples around to teach me the principles we are to practice in order to change our lives.
I grew up in an alcoholic home. My mother hit the skids. No kidding, she was one of those drunks who got to where she couldn’t function at all.
I recall how years ago I was contacted by the Catholic Diocese of St. Cloud. I was shocked that the bishop’s office would reach out to me, but indeed they did.
My quest for “normal” has been lifelong. As a child, I begged my parents to send me to Catholic school so I could have a uniform like the other kids.
1 gawky, insecure teenage girl
1 night in jail
1 handsome young man
1 recovering son
8 years of bliss
6 years of promotions
After years of having well-intentioned AA “fundamentalists” telling me I could not get sober without “getting on my knees” and asking God for help, I did not think it was possible for me to ever re
I walked into the Never Too Young meeting on the third Sunday in March. It was my fifth AA meeting and I was still struggling with the idea of being an alcoholic and never drinking again.
I remember vividly the first time I went to AA. I climbed the stairs to that clubhouse in Reseda, California. When I reached the top of stairs, I turned to my right and saw two guys fighting.
Thank you, Detroit
I had just attended my first wedding and I was deeply disturbed. As I got home, my mind was racing. I was literally trembling inside.