My drinking had grown out of control. The demon liquor had taken control of my life and every aspect of my daily living. I would come to, eat breakfast if I could keep it down and drive to work. On some mornings I would have to pull off the side of the road and vomit. I managed to get to work every single day but now I was suffering from slight DT's. My hands would tremble and one very bright child even noticed and I would lie, saying that I was cold. Once work was over, I would go to the liquor store to start my afternoon of drinking and my hands would shake so badly until I had that first drink then I returned to normal, or what normal was in my sick mind. The shaking would stop and I would down the first drink very quickly.
I could not stop with just that one drink and wen I went through that first pint of Kesseler Whiskey, I would create an excuse to go and get more, such as going to photograph trains at the station but take my empty camera bag and return with it full of more liquor and mix. Another trick was to wear a jacket and sneak it in under it or there was always my bedroom window which I used in many different ways. I went from being a very honest person to one who told untruths whenever the need arose. The disease of alcohol had its name all over me, but I just denied it.
If I did not feel like eating, I would say that I was sick, which was untrue. I stopped eating so my weight began to drop and locked myself inside my bedroom and drank during the evenings. The term "lost weekend" should have had my picture by it. Knowing that I had to get up for work, breath mints, Bianca, Clear Eyes and mouthwash all became regular additions to my daily life. Most people close to me knew I had a drinking problem but I would not admit it. I was the fool being fooled.
I would call friends to come over and if I had not fainted before they came over, I would be miles out of the gate before they arrived. Their visits became fewer and I was controlled by the bottle;it was making my life a vicious cycle of. Train riding was only something I would do to see my brother Bruce in Sacramento and my life was like a train running wild down the rails of life, something had to stop it.
It was like any other morning in the last two years, I came to, tried to keep some Fruit Loops down with no vomit and managed to drive to work. I was hung over, although some Tylenol helped and after snacking at lunch, my thoughts were obsessing on the first drink of the day. We were doing an experiment in Maureen Angle's science class, the details of which I cannot recall, but it gave me an idea to try an experiment, reach a conclusion, repeat the procedure and if you had the same conclusion, repeat it one more time to see if the same results were acquired. I managed to get most of the way through sixth period then returned home.
I locked my door and with my hands really shaking, poured that first drink and gulped it down then within five minutes, vomited. A thought suddenly hit me - I just had a result. I repeated the process three times with the same result and my conclusion was that he alcohol was making me sick. I had the proof and with my mind not believing it at first. I must have drunk enough to stop my hands from shaking because they were perfectly still, which made me think it was a touch of the flu. I fixed another drink and managed to keep it down then had the rest of the bottle and fainted about 4:30 PM. I came to at 7:45 PM with my stomach in shooting pain and had the result which I could now believe and laid there in the darkness of my room with only the clock radio giving off any light. On January l7, 1995 at 8:13 PM Pacific Standard Time, I finally admitted to God that I was an alcoholic and would he please help me. I felt a moment of peace for the first time in a very long time and prayed with an honest heart, asking Him to guide me through this problem. I started to feel better then developed a plan of action and fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up with a purpose in my life and was a man on a mission. I had breakfast and drove to McFadden Intermediate where I knocked on the rear locker room door with Rod Napier answering. I sat down and confessed to Rod that I was an alcoholic and asked him to come with me to talk to our principal, Brenda McGaffigin, to get me some help. We went up to the office and learned that Brenda would not be back until lunch but I saw that Maureen Angle's door was open and I told her the results of my experiment; she said that she would do anything to help me. Next I went to my room and saw Hedy Carnett, who always knew I had a problem but kept quiet out of loyalty and friendship. The morning passed quickly and at lunch Rod, Hedy and I were sitting in Brenda's office where I confessed that I was an alcoholic and I needed help. Brenda understood my problem and was very supportive, saying that she would do anything to help me. We called the District office and I spoke with Dr. Champlin, who told me what to do and gave me a phone number to call at UCI Medical Center to make an appointment to get me started on the road to recovery. Brenda let me use her office phone and I called UCI, being very grateful for all the support I was receiving. I finished the day and went home, bypassing the liquor store for the first time in years. When I arrived home, I told my parents, who were overjoyed with my news.
I finished the rest of the day sober but could not sleep at all that first night and having a sleep problem is a common side effect of quitting drinking. The next day, I worked half a day then went to UCI to be evaluated. The doctor gave me high marks, saying that I could still work and would only need an outpatient program then gave me a prescription for sleeping pills and that night I slept soundly. The next day, the first treatment center that I called said they only did full-time care and no outpatient and it became a game of telephone tag, with me losing and becoming very frustrated. Here I was trying to get myself sober and take care of my problem with no one wanting to help me. A five-night-a-week program in Fullerton said that they would take me, but with the forecast of heavy rain, did not want to risk my life driving back and forth on Interstate 5. I now valued my life. More phone calls took place but at least I was not drinking. The weekend came and went then I had conversations with Tustin Hospital, who said that they would start a day outpatient program just for me.
So on the 13th day of my sobriety I started my four hours-a-day program at Tustin Hospital then was given a clean bill of health by a doctor who examined me and spent three weeks in treatment. I was there mostly for the education and what an education it was since I was with other alcoholics, heroin junkies, crystal meth users and speed demons. I graduated from the program to a once-a-week night after-care meeting and while I was there, completed the first three steps of AA's twelve-step program. My friend Scott Weber took me to my first AA meeting at 6:00 AM at the hospital and I started to attend that meeting every day. I did the twelve steps with them at a Sunday night meeting which was the best thing that I could have done for myself, as it allowed me to shed so much unwanted emotional baggage. There is a line in AA that says "You will be amazed when you are halfway through!" The truth is that I was amazed all the way through.
My life changed for the better almost immediately. I now fell asleep and upon waking, was able to taste things, felt full of energy and I enjoyed my days, being much more aware of my surroundings. Living became fun again and I had come out of my shell. There was only one question: could I still ride trains sober or would my train riding days be over?
There would be only one way to find out so on the 25th day of my sobriety, I rode a short round trip to Fullerton and boarded the Amcafé as normal and went to the counter and the attendant asked if I had just given up drinking and when I replied in the affirmative, he said that he had over five years of sobriety. I had just made a new friend.
My first night time train ride was the last southbound train to stop at Del Mar since the station was being closed, only to be replaced by a new station in Solana Beach, which was a trailer until the new building was completed. This was because the new Coaster commuter train service started and stations with ample parking were needed, so when the City of Del Mar declined to do anything, Solana Beach built a new station and now would have Amtrak service. I rode San Diegan Train 582 south reading the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. At Del Mar, I walked around the station one last time before San Diegan 587, the final northbound train to stop there, arrived and I boarded, then we departed on time. It was at that point that I came up with a plan to never drink again on a train, thus obeying Rule G, which states: "The use of alcoholic beverages, intoxicants, narcotics, marijuana or other controlled substances by employees subject to duty, or use while on duty or on company property, is prohibited." If I followed this while on a train I would never drink again, God willing. I went one step further for the rest of my life. My new policy is: "No drinking under any circumstance in life!" If I never broke that rule, I would stay sober for the rest of my life. The next morning I rode the first southbound train into Solana Beach.
President's Day weekend was about to happen, so I booked a trip to Sacramento on the San Joaquin service to visit my brother Bruce and his family with my newfound sobriety. Since I was in Sacramento, I decided to ride the new Capitol Corridor train to San Jose and back. We ran on time until Fruitville Road, south of Oakland, where a man threw himself in front of the train, which had brand new California Cars and a new locomotive, and committed suicide. With over 163,000 miles of train riding, I was finally on a train that had hit someone and we went into emergency and from the rear door, I could see the bod. I learned later that the man had been drinking beforehand. People do not understand why someone would use a train to kill themselves, but I do. Passenger trains run on a schedule, so the person just picks a train and if it runs on time, there is a good chance then they are all set. The return trip to Sacramento ran on time, as did my San Joaquin two days later, without me even thinking of having a drink.
With that I returned home to a new School District rule that everyone had to use up almost all vacation days earned by the end of the school year, which started me planning my 1995 spring break trip.
Now look at all that I accomplished since I become sober that is on this web site. No longer the slave to the bottle, I am free to explore the planet by rail. Thank you for Mrs. Angle for the science experiment that saved and turned around my life. Thank God for my sobriety.
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