Never Too Late for a Miracle

I went to my first AA meeting in the spring of 1953. It was a prerequisite to being released from a state hospital where I'd spent sixty days for alcoholism at the tender age of twenty-one. The hospital experience scared the hell out of me, and at my exit interview a wise and compassionate doctor painted a very grim picture of my future without treatment and strongly recommended that I follow up with AA. My initial reaction to AA meetings was one of relief in finding that I wasn't alone. But stopping altogether wasn't part of my plan at that point, and since I couldn't find anything in "the book" about moderation, the book went on the shelf, and I went on my merry way. But I was starting to run a little scared.