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Living One Day at a Time, |
When I met recently with Father Emil Tomaskovic I was introduced as a writer who particularly enjoyed profiling hotels,
restaurants and other attractions in the Adirondacks. Having lived in Lake Placid for nearly 20 years, however, I actually knew very
little about St. Joseph’s, which is a ministry of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, other than that the facility is located in
Saranac Lake and that it helps people with alcohol and other addiction issues.Emil suggested that if I wanted to learn about the facility, my timing was perfect because nearly 400 alumni would be celebrating St. Joe’s 36th Reunion that coming weekend, and more importantly each would be recognizing another year of sobriety. These individuals were also members of the Center’s Fellowship, a several-thousand-person group spread throughout the state formed with the purpose of providing support to those recently discharged from St. Joe’s. “The first group of men who graduated decided to come back and live the motto of “I am responsible,” and to carry the message to the current residents “that the program does work and you can get sober,” Emil said. This philosophy was the genesis of the first Reunion and the tradition continues today. Later that evening, several hundred men and women gathered for the first event, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. My own experience with alcoholism is tangential, but as I listened I quickly came to understand the devastating nature of the disease. Priests, CEOs, doctors, laborers, men, women, teens - anyone can be affected. Those attending AA meetings are guaranteed anonymity, however, many shared freely stories of the loss of families, jobs, and homes. But they also delivered joyful testimonials of the rebuilding of careers and of loved ones united. The anonymity of AA meetings is sacrosanct and the honesty with which speakers shared their lives was searing and poignant. Jack Kelly, who gave permission for his last name to be used, was that weekend celebrating his 36th year of sobriety, shared some of his life with me following the gathering.“I was homeless, sleeping in parked cars, panhandling just to stay afloat,” he said. “After a few weeks of classes here I began to really look at myself for the first time in my life and with the progress I was making, I began to actually feel good about myself. Yeah, maybe I can do this, I said. Maybe I can get sober. Most importantly, I began to forgive myself.” After a thoughtful pause, Jack added, “This place saved my life. I’m a lucky man.” The more I listened, the more I came to understand some of the characteristics of the disease: the biological predisposition, the self centerdness caused by the obsession to find the next drink, the dishonesty, the absence of self-esteem, the self-destructive behavior - all which can be transformed at St. Joe’s through some of the toughest love around. Jack also told me that St. Joe’s program is based on the well known 12-Step process which begins with the profound understanding that those affected are powerless over their addictions and that their lives have become unmanageable. After the meeting, Keith Stack, who also gave permission for his last name to be used, was once the Deputy Secretary of State for the State of New York and spoke freely of his continuing struggle. His first drink occurred during the fifth grade. By high school, his favorite drink was, “more.” Despite his growing addiction, he graduated from Rutgers, and then received a Masters from SUNY Albany. During these years he married, began a family, and embarked on a bright political career. But at the same time he was drinking throughout each day. “Lying, cheating, stealing,” he said. “These were the tools I learned as a child of an alcoholic (his father).” He came to St. Joseph’s in 1997 and learned the tools that would keep him sober for the next seven years. During his sobriety, Keith’s family life was rewarding and his political career was thriving. Ironically, this success caused him to let his guard down. On January 18, 2004, a date he remembers distinctly, he was having dinner by himself after a ski trip and was asked if he’d like a drink by the waiter. “I was alone. I had no defense against my disease,” he recalls. Within weeks he was hiding bottles at work and at home. “Alcoholism is a progressive disease,” he said. “They have a saying at St. Joe’s, “While you’re inside at a meeting, your alcoholism is outside in the parking lot doing pushups.” His downward spiral led to two outpatient detoxification treatments in two months and two DWI’s, one of which occurred while he was driving a state-issued vehicle. He lost his job, left his home, and lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment in the Catskills. But his wife and two close friends never gave up on him “We’re not going to let you die a drunk,” a friend assured him. And he returned to treatment. It was at that time he also learned that he suffered from a bi-polar disorder in addition to his chemical dependency. Keith has been sober since and is working now with the New York State Alcohol and Substance Abuse Office. “I’m 49 going on 50, I’m a grandfather. It’s the first time in my life I’ve been honest, and I’m at peace.” But it’s not just the drinker’s life that is so affected. The damage an alcoholic inflicts extends far beyond the drinker and on to family, friends, essentially anyone who cares for the alcoholic. I learned of this reality during Saturday’s Al-Anon meeting. Similar to an AA meeting, strict rules apply to protect those attending – what folks share in the room stays in the room. Moms, dads, grandparents, sons and daughters all share and learn to cope with the trauma of the disease. Through their words, some delivered haltingly, others with resolve, family members spoke of the denial and pain caused by someone else’s drinking. The wonderful product of this coming together is the profound experience of liberation as people come to understand that while they never stop loving them, they no longer have to feel responsible for their alcoholic. One participant shared with me that through the Al-Anon program, she been “freed of the crushing burden of guilt, and could now get on with her life.” In addition, family members need never feel alone as Al-Anon groups meet weekly throughout the country and gather locally on Mondays and Fridays at 8:00 at St. Agnes Church in Lake Placid, and at 8:00 on Tuesdays at St. Joe’s. That evening at Lake Placid's Crowne Plaza, over 400 men and women in recovery, as well as current residents undergoing treatment, and staff cheered as those celebrating milestone sobriety years received lapel pins marking five-year increments of their victories over the disease. The residents’ tables were in the center of the gathering, which was more than just a symbolic placement. As one Fellowship member noted, “The Fellowship supports everyone who’s been through St. Joseph’s but it’s the men and women who’re just getting back into society we’re here to help the most.” John Harvey, who like the other individuals mentioned gave permission to use his last name, was the keynote speaker and is both a graduate of St. Joseph’s and a counselor who returned to the Center to help others, began his address by noting his first drink occurred as an altar boy finishing off the wine after mass. By the time he was a teen, he was hooked. His life was marked by such events as organizing a plot to rob the Meadowlands, and having his father-in-law place a contract on his life. The only thing that kept him from taking his own life were his strong religious convictions. John finished his talk with, “I’ve seen guys come here who were living on the streets, eating out of dumpsters. Three, four years later, you see them coming back to Reunion with a new car, a wife, and young children. But the greatest thing they come back with is gratitude. To see the miracles here, it’s just amazing.” As the evening concluded and with each cheer and each hug, I reflected on Jack’s, Keith’s, and John’s stories and the probability that throughout the country there were thousands of others who share the extraordinary challenge of recovery and who are, as AA’s Serenity Prayer comforts, “Living one day at a time. Enjoying one moment at a time.” |