White-knuckle Sobriety

I HIT BOTTOM in February 1970, when I was about to lose my house in a sheriff's sale. Three times, as a result of being late, I had been in the superintendent's office of the school where I work. The last time was a rather unpleasant experience. I was told I was going to be fired. My wife and my children were thoroughly fed up with my behavior--the broken promises, the stumbling and falling around in my house, the utter shame and humiliation they were suffering because of my irrational and insane behavior.