Just throwing this out there, into the four winds tonight. I got a call this afternoon from my son, from jail. As some of you already know, this time last year (the same week before Christmas), I bailed him out of jail and he jumped the bond and ran three days later. I had to go through the process of locating him and providing that information to the bondsmen, so they could get a bounty hunter to go get him in Texas and bring him back to North Carolina. I had put up one thousand dollars on a ten thousand dollar bond. I would not swallow a nine thousand dollar debt, for a carton of cigarettes and a 12 pack of beer he stole during a burglary of a family owned, mom and pop convenience store.
Well, he was held until his court date and eventually sentenced to three years probation, with some number of hours community service, restitution for damages, etc. On the phone today he said he had been busted for shop lifting this morning in Houston and they came up with a fugitive warrant from North Carolina for his having left the state while his probation was still active without his probation officers consent. So, after his time is served for a Class B misdemeanor (shop lifting 50.00 - 500.00) he will be transported back here. I listened. Then asked why he was calling me about his situation. I had already done my part last year by trying to help him and instead of honoring the trust I put in him to stand up and face the music of his actions, he ran. He had left some woman in a cheap hotel room, they had been staying in for about a week, and he didn't have any money to pay the bill so he thought he could get it by stealing stuff from a dept. store and returning it to the store for money to pay the rent on the room. He wanted to know if I would call the hotel, ask for his room number and tell this woman he was in jail, and would be gone for a pretty good while due the current charges and the fugitive warrant, so she was on her own. I was a little bit tickled by this request. Reminds me of the kind of crap I did back in my hay day of active alcoholism and addiction. The same thing over and over, "expecting" different results. His call was ended within 10 minutes and I called the hotel he told me about. This woman answers the room phone, screaming, "where the hell are you? Jason has been by here to collect the money we owe him for all the stuff he has fronted us this week. I hope you got the money because he is pissed off that you been avoiding him."
I said, "well, that is bad, but this isn't James, its his father. James is sitting in county jail, and will be there until he goes to court for shop lifting and then transferred to North Carolina for leaving the state without his P.O's consent. He still had 2 years to do on his probation here in NC. So, you won't be seeing him for a while and he wanted me to let you know you were on your own now." She was silent for a moment. "That S.O.B, he put my wedding ring and a gold necklace with a diamond on it in a pawn shop, and I don't know where it is, and can't get it now because it's in his name! And he took my car this morning, so it will likely be towed somewhere by the police or the store to remove it from their lot!" I laughed. "Your wedding ring?" She admitted that she was married, met my son and started having an affair with him about a week before. Her husband immediately found out about it via text messages on her cell phone, and she now has no home to go back to.
I asked her how much did they owe this guy Jason and what for. She said it was about 300.00 and it was for cocaine/crack. I just said, "well, all I can suggest is you find somewhere to go pretty fast, because this guy will be back to collect his money and he isn't likely to keep swallowing any excuses for your not having it. You are in a dangerous situation."
She started crying and I told her she might want to go to a hospital and ask for help with her addiction to drugs, otherwise things were just going to go from bad to worse. I said good bye and hung up.
That's how my day started today.
Then this afternoon I got a call from a young man, 22 years old. He is in Newark, NJ. sitting in a porter potty to stay out of the cold all night. He tells me he is dope sick, (opiates) hasn't used since early yesterday, tried to go to the community hospital and get into detox but no beds were open in the two free detox centers they have there. (of course not, when the winter sets in many go into detox, to get out of the cold, life is hell on a addict in active addiction that has burnt all their bridges). I ask his name and he tells me its Paul. I think to myself... "Porter Potty Paul" and kinda giggle at the nickname I suddenly found for this guy. I ask him how he found my number and why he was calling me. He broke down crying. I am dying in this little stinking box and I don't want to die, I want help and have asked for it but keep getting turned away from any one I go to ask". My cell has internet on it and I did a search and found your number on a web site. Is there any way you can help me?"
I am baffled. How the heck am I suppose to help this young man sitting in a porter potty in another state, crying and basically begging for help? I ask him the name of the community hospital he went to, and the two detox centers there. I tell him I am going to make a few phone calls and will call him back within an hour. I call all three places, and they do not have any beds open at all. Then my phone rings, and its one of the detox's I had just spoken to. A worker tells me that a man who had been there 3 times in the last month just walked out the door again and they were not going to let him back in. If I could get Porter Potty Paul (LOL) there they would hold the bed for him for one hour. I called Paul back and told him the news, he said "that's great, but that detox is a two hour walk from where I am." I got him to tell me what business he was close to, it's general address. He provided an exact address and name of a welding shop. I tell him to go stand in front of it for 30 minutes or so, a taxi will pick him up and get him to the detox. This guy, just breaks down completely. Crying his guts out. A lump settles into my throat, and I basically am choked up as I tell him, "you are going to be alright, you never have to live like this again, just get in the cab and follow the process that gets laid out in front of you from this point forward, alright?" He is sobbing so hard, I can barely make out his saying, "thank you, thank you, yes I will I promise. Thank you!"
I do a search on the internet for the address he provided and yes, it goes to a welding shop. At least I know he is where he says he is. I call a taxi cab company there in Newark, and they say they will send a cab out to pick him up within 15 minutes. 45 minutes later, my phone rings, its Paul. "I'm here, they are taking me to the back right now, but they won't let me keep my cell phone with me, so I wanted to call and just tell you again, thank you." I tell him.. just go in there, and when you talk to a counselor, let them know you need to go into a treatment program, or some type of aftercare housing, and they will help find some place safe for you to go from there." "Can I call you when I get wherever I am going from here?" I reply, "yes, definitely, I'd like that, but before you call me, I want you to call your family, and let them know you are safe, and getting help, alright?" He agrees.
Amazing how this stuff works. I can't do anything for my own son but let him suffer the consequences of his decisions and actions. But I can help someone else's that is states away, in a darn porter potty begging for help.
I helped a few others too. Insane asylums, jails, but watched my dad fight and self destruct... And die.
Glad your son is alive. He can sill feel pain, so he may yet learn. Somewhere there is a dad that can't reach Paul. You stepped in for him. I guess when we pray for God to reach our loved ones, he uses someone doing what you did.
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"I spent a lifetime in hell and it only took me twelve steps to get to heaven."
"Experience is not what happens to you; it's what you do with what happens to you."
That's some wild sheepdip John...Pretty amazing the places that stuff takes us...I'm thinking about that woman and where her head is right now......She'd be better off in a Porter Potty. Wow. You're a good man. I hope and pray they are all beaten to that state of reasonablness...And they grab onto that solution that's laid at their feet if they want it.....Or none of them will be around for long.... Amazing. I'll drop you something too...Towards the cab ride....Or whatever you need. Merry Christmas brother....There but for the Grace of God.....Go any of us.
-- Edited by Stepchild on Friday 20th of December 2013 08:08:07 AM
That was a great share/story. I can really relate to both stories (having so much contact with active and barely sober newcomers)....It amazes me how they keep finding new ways to screw up....like it's an art. But then I remember (like you did) that I was pretty good at that also. Great 12th step work with Paul there.
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Keep coming back. It works if you work it. So work it. You're worth it!
Wow, John....your son will hopefully get it eventually but obviously has to go through more "sheep dip" before he does. I know it must be very stressful and heartbreaking on you and your family to endure all of this until he does reach that point.
How wonderful that you helped Porter Potty Paul (the three "P's" guy!) and he will always remember how someone he has never met face to face cared so much about him and did what you did to help save his life.
This reminds me of how someone exercises the Serenity Prayer in their life...."God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."
John, I am sorry you are going through all of that with your son. I think I would be tempted to drink over just a portion of what you mentioned....however, you didn't and instead of turning it inward and allowing the pain to get the better of you through alcohol, you helped someone who really needed you and what a great example that is for me! Can you send me your Paypal account name? I would like to chip in for the cab fare, too, on that ride to "hope and life" that you provided to that young man.
This shows anyone who visits this site, the strength of your character. When it comes to our children, 'tough love', though it tears at our heart is sometimes the best thing we can do for them. I'm sure it was not easy, to hear what your son or that woman said, but you did what you need to. As for PPP, you found compassion without overstepping and may very well have saved a life!!! I've said it before, yet will repeat......I've learned more (and grown) from those on this side of the fence (AA'rs) than the other side which is why I keep coming back! Great share.
Hi John, Let me add another "Wow" to all the others. Yes, it seems to me that your role in all of this could be summed up by saying..."Lord, make me an instrument of your peace....." You must've asked, because it looks like He made you an instrument. Blessings, Mike D.
Update: Porter Potty Paul is out of detox and going directly into a 6 month residential treatment program. He seems very excited about it. Says he still feels like shit, to which I replied... "its appropriate given where you came from" LOL We both laughed.
His mom called me day before yesterday. She introduced herself and said, "you will always have a special place in my heart for helping my son". I told her, "he helped himself, by picking up the phone and reaching out to someone, and God took over from there. I merely got to witness the process unfold." We only spoke for a few short minutes, but I was able to encourage her to find a Al-Anon meeting and to go to six of them before deciding whether its a good fit for her as she has struggled as a mother of a addict. She said, "sounds like you might know something about that, and I replied... "I will only say I wish my son had the willingness your son has displayed". A moment of silence was shared between us, and then we said our good byes.
Update: Porter Potty Paul is out of detox and going directly into a 6 month residential treatment program. He seems very excited about it. Says he still feels like shit, to which I replied... "its appropriate given where you came from" LOL We both laughed.
His mom called me day before yesterday. She introduced herself and said, "you will always have a special place in my heart for helping my son". I told her, "he helped himself, by picking up the phone and reaching out to someone, and God took over from there. I merely got to witness the process unfold." We only spoke for a few short minutes, but I was able to encourage her to find a Al-Anon meeting and to go to six of them before deciding whether its a good fit for her as she has struggled as a mother of a addict. She said, "sounds like you might know something about that, and I replied... "I will only say I wish my son had the willingness your son has displayed". A moment of silence was shared between us, and then we said our good byes.
