CHAPTER 1

My Family

Born in 1948, I was the youngest of four boys in an upper-middle-classfamily. This was a few years after the end of World War II.Neither of my parents ever smoked, drank alcohol, or used mood-alteringdrugs.

If genetics plays a role in addiction, then I must look at both of mygrandfathers. My mom told me stories about her father's escapadeswhen he drank. He was an unpredictable, angry, and malicious drunk.He had seven children, and five went on to drink excessively as adults.He was a functional alcoholic, and he was licensed as a dentist and alawyer. He was also a U. S. representative in Washington DC. He gotsober in his fifties and stayed that way until he died. I only knew himduring his sober years and remember him as a kind and loving man.

My mom, therefore, grew up as a child of an alcoholic and becamean adult child of an alcoholic. I remember her as an extremely anxiousperson who had little peace or contentment. She was very opinionatedand argumentative. Many times throughout my lifetime, she arguedwith my dad, my brothers, her sisters, and me. She was religious andattended church regularly. She knew the Bible well enough that shecould quote many verses from it. I loved my mom, and I believe she didthe best she could with what she had even though her childhood withan alcoholic father had affected her emotionally.

My dad's father was also an alcoholic. He drove a cab for a living,and I only saw him three or so times in my childhood. He did not raisemy dad. My dad was raised by stepparents, whom I had the pleasure ofvisiting several times. They were good and kind people who did a greatjob raising my dad. My father was a prince of a man. I never saw himsmoke, drink alcohol, physically harm anyone, or argue with anyoneother than my mom, and that only happened rarely. He never flirtedwith other women or had any affairs. I never heard him cuss or telldirty jokes. He was meek and unpretentious. He spent a lot of qualitytime with me. One of my favorite childhood memories is of beingnestled under his arm and talking while we watched TV together in aneasy chair. I felt loved and safe. One example of my dad's integrity tookplace when he managed a little league team I played on. Even though Iwas a good pitcher, there was a one-armed boy who was a better pitcherthan me. The other pitcher began the game, while I sat the bench andwatched. My dad only put me in to pitch if the first-string boy ran intodifficulties. I respected my dad for not favoring me over the betterplayer. Even though he set this good example, I chose to use drugsinstead of following his lead.

When my dad died, I could hardly believe the crowd of people thatcame to the funeral to pay their respects. He had touched many people'slives. He was truly a great man and one of the most humble people Ihave ever known.

There was some physical violence in my immediate family home asI grew up. I remember being awakened in the night to hear yelling andthe loud thump of someone hitting the wall with their body, buttingheads, and throwing punches. I stepped out of my bedroom and lookeddown the hall to see one of my brothers fighting with my dad. Thefighting stopped, and I returned to my bed. I thought every familysettled differences that way.

When I was too young to remember witnessing it, someone in thefamily shot a .22 rifle over my dad's head and through the kitchen wall.The hole had to be filled in and painted over. One of my brothers toldme about this episode, but it was never mentioned by anyone in thefamily again.

My older three brothers moved out while I was still young. Myoldest brother became a dentist and tried working in private practicefor a while. It was not his cup of tea, so he returned to school andearned a master's degree in public health. Throughout his career, hehas held many esteemed jobs in public-health dentistry. His final jobwas director of the National AIDS Hotline at the CDC in Atlanta.Sometimes I wonder how far I would have gone in dentistry had I neverused drugs.

My relationship with this brother was almost nonexistent during myusing days. When I got clean, we reunited with each other, and at presentwe have a good, loving relationship. He supported me emotionally whileI was in treatment. He and I talked frequently, and he even drove somedistance to attend family treatment groups.

My second-oldest brother, who is ten years older than me, took memany places when I was a child. We went to the zoo, on picnics, andto other fun things. Out of anyone in my family, I...