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Cyber Hangout for

Sober Biker






Sober Biker





There was a time in the not so distant past, I wasn't such a nice person to be around. Now can ya believe that!!??

I was born in Kansas City Mo. on March 14, 1950. Somewhere about six months old I was adopted and taken to be raised in a middle class family in Gary, Indiana. My adopted father was a custom home builder and designer. My adopted mother was a school teacher that chose to stay at home and help my father with the business and to raise the kids. Besides myself, there were two other children. All three of us were adopted. My sister, Patti (or Trish as she is now called), and my brother, Gary. My sis was adopted first and I was second. So that leaves Gary to have been added to the family last. I don't know the particulars on my sisters adoption, because that happened before I was around and we never have discussed that. But I do remember Gary coming to live with us. We are spaced fairly evenly in age and I am the youngest of the brood. My sister being the oldest.
My childhood, the best I can recall was a good one. But at the time I didn't think so. It seemed as if my father had adopted the boys to be his work force. Now, in retrospect, I see he was trying to teach us the business he was in.
I think this was the start of my rebellion to society. I wasn't happy, I thought! Actually, now I look back and I had absolutely no reason to be unhappy! But none the less I rebelled. I had started drinking and smoking pot in my sophomore year of high school. This is also about the time I started to ride motorcycles. My father would never let me own one, so, I rode whoever's bike that would loan me one. Dropping out of High School in the middle of my senior year and joining the Marine Corps. That was December of 1967. I spent two years in the Corps and I am forever grateful for the training I received there. But at the time...I rebelled! I had continued to smoke pot and drink, but now I was into the "other" drugs, hallucinogens mostly. To make a long story a little shorter, I received a BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE from the Marine Corps in January of 1970. This was the ticket I was looking for! Now I was at last, to run rampid! I went to Billings, Montana and for the next three years ran amuck amongst the cowboys and hippies there. I nearly got into some serious trouble there and called dear 'ole dad for assistance! He sent me a plane ticket home and home I went.
Well...I don't want to go into an exceptionally long story, but my drinking and drugging continued until I had finally reached a point where I was setting on the edge of my bed with a gun to my head, gonna end it all. I couldn't go on rebelling any longer! I had to finally give up! Alcohol had defeated me! I was admitted into the Care Unit in Michigan City, Indiana on February 17, 1983 and haven't seen fit to take another drug (Un-prescribed) or drink since.
I have to give credit to My Higher Power and to Alcoholics Anonymous for my sobriety. Without the program and the people in it, I would most certainly drink again. And for this Alcoholic, that would be insanity! Ya see, my HP has a morbid sense of humor...he wouldn't let me die. I would have to live with the fact that I was still and always will be a drunk...just tryin to get sober!


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