Are You In or Out?

In 1978, I was all of twenty-two, with a drunkalog to match most forty-year-olds'. I got out of my third detox, after having forcibly attended a few AA meetings there. My usual M.O. at this time was to detox, then hit a few meetings on the outside, appease my family, and start drinking again. So off I went to set things straight. I went to a meeting in my neighborhood, Hell's Kitchen (Oh, did I mention I was a tough guy?), where I ran into a friend who offered to find me a sponsor. He sent me downtown to meet a guy named Frank M. I spent the next thirty-three days attending meetings all over Greenwich Village. Frank introduced me to guys like Jimmy G., who at one time had run most of the drug trade on the Lower East Side, and to Pat B., a New York City fireman. I'll never forget the first time I met Pat. I was sitting in a meeting and in walked this man in dress blues with more medals than an Olympic athlete. I realized then that you did not have to be a punk to get sober.