There's a saying in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, and you'll hear it in the readings... It says something about, "These things were nil until we let go absolutely." And I had to let go absolutely. I had to let another man control my life. And that's who I call my sponsor. That's what I had to do. I had to turn something over to somebody because my decision- making skills weren't any good. And just because I get clean and sober don't mean that I start making good decisions. I'm 17 years sober and I still call my sponsor and ask him. Still. Because I'm still an Alcoholic-Addict. I'm still that person, you know? And so I need to make sure before I make decisions to run it by somebody before I make decisions.
Anyway, October 11, 2002, I stepped out of the penitentiary for the last time and everything. They were sending me to a halfway house in Abilene, Texas. And some of ya'll may know where it is. It's called the 180 House. They sent me to Abilene. I never been to Abilene before in my life. It was going to be just like any other halfway house. I did not get out of prison in 2002 going, "I'm gonna clean myself up." I had no plans of getting clean and sober. I had no plans of what happened to me. It was going to be the typical: get out of prison, go to the halfway house, find My People (it'll take about 2 or 3 days), and get the hell out of here. That was my plan. You know? I wasn't scared to go back. I can say that through all those years of addiction and alcoholism and living in all the places I lived in, I lived better in prison than I did on the streets. I did. And that's sad. That's very sad.
So I had no plan of cleaning up or anything else like that when I got here. It was going to be my typical: okay, let's go to this place, let's find my guy, let's find my girl, whoever it needs to be, and let's get out of here. And I'm going to go back to prison. Okay. I've done this deal for twenty plus years. Let's keep doing it.
So I got to the 180 House. I had to pay 'em just a little money, what the penitentiary gave me so I could stay there a week, and I started looking for My People. I wasn't one to just go up and ask you. I could tell. I knew who My People were. And so that took all of about three days and I found my guy. And I just started watching him and just kind of watching what was going on around me. That he could be The One to help me get out of here. So I been there three days. And I pull the gentleman to the side. His name was Michael Ian. He's still a friend of mine today. I asked Michael, I said, "Hey..." I said, "Do you know where I can get any guns? Credit cards? Stolen checks? Or anything like that so I can get out of here?"
He said, "Dude, didn't you just get out of prison??" I'd been there three days. We're going to these damn meetings. They make you go to these damn meetings.
And I said, "Yeah."
He said, "You're gonna go back."
And I said, "I don't care. I just need to get away from here."
And he says, "Are you serious?"
And I says, "I'm serious."
He says, "Well, come on." And he tricked me. Because we walk down to his room, there at the 180 House, and the Texas-OU game is playing. That's the first time I can tell you, looking back, as a person not believing in God, that God did for me what I could not do for myself. I like Texas-OU games.
He goes, "You like Texas-OU?"
I said, "Yeah!"
He goes, "Let's watch it!" And we did. We watched the game. And we got into the evening. And he took me down to Taco Bell. He bought me something to eat. And it got later that night, and he says, "Hey. Don't go nowhere tonight, man. I'll holler at you in the morning."
I said, "Alright."
The next morning, he did. He came and knocked on my door bright and early in the morning. Probably 6 o'clock, 6:30 in the morning. It was a Sunday morning. And, uhh, he had an armful of clothes.
And he goes, "Hey. You realize you ain't change clothes since you been here?"
I said, "Yeah. These are the clothes the prison gave me. Why?"
He said, "Why don't you change your clothes, man?" And that's who I was. I could go weeks... days without changing clothes. I could go days or weeks without showering sometimes. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I was the cleanest freak out there. I wasn't. I was nasty. Maybe all ya'll took showers everyday and put on clean clothes and brushed your teeth. Maybe ya'll got pedicures and manicures but that wasn't who I was. I was a stone-cold Alcoholic-Addict. That's who I was. And, um, anyway... so he gave me a change of clothes and I changed clothes and everything and we talked a little bit and he told me to give this thing a chance and and this and that.
And I said, "Well, I don't know, you know? I just need to get out of here." And I still had no desire to clean up. The only reason I was clean for those three or four days is because that place will kick you out if you use or drink and I'm having to go to these meetings and I'm hearing these stories in these meetings and I hear ya'll talking about some kind of 12 Steps and I hear ya'll talking about "get a sponsor". I hear ya'll talking about all that, but it's going in one ear and out the other because I have Ideas.
Monday morning rolls around and everybody went to work. And I realized that I was going to have to have some money here real quick to pay another week's worth of rent. And I had to look for a job. I hadn't done any of that stuff since I'd been there. I had no desire to look for a job or anything like that.
I did know one person here in Abilene, and it was the wife of a fellow convict that I met down there. He was an eleven-time loser. And he had been with his wife for a long long time. And I was supposed to parole to their house but that did not work out, because Greg told me his wife had changed. That she was just like us— she was an Alcoholic-Addict for many many years and that she had changed and that she had changed into a Cheezus Freak. And so she wasn't gonna allow me to parole there. So I did have her number. She's the one that picked me up from the bus station and took me to the 180 House. And the first thing she wanted to talk about was Cheezusand I didn't want to hear nothin' about no damn Cheezus. And how much he loved me. And I didn't want to hear all that.
So I thought I'd call Mary and ask her if she knew anybody that might need some help, because Mary lived in Abilene her whole life. And so I called Mary up on the payphone at the 180 House and asked her if she knew anybody that might be looking for help or might need some help or something like this, and of course, immediately, Mary wanted to start talking about Cheezus. And wanted to know if I'd prayed to Cheezus. And ask Cheezus.
And I said, "Mary, I don't believe in Cheezus. I don't believe in God. That's not who I am."
And she said, "Rick, you have to. Cheezus loves you. He;s gonna help you."
And I said, "Mary, I just need a damn job."
And she says, "I understand."
And she says, "Well... if you don't believe in Cheezus, Rick, I do. I believe in him. And I believe God is going to help you."
And I said, "Okay... I mean... how's he going to do that?"
And she goes, "Well, can you say what I say?"
And I said, "What do you mean?"
And she says, "I'm going to pray and I want you to say what I say." I will do anything this woman tells me to do as long as she'll get me a job. Okay? I'm just gonna use her. Just like I've used everybody in my life. And so she said something about, "Cheezus, help me find a job."
And I said, "Cheezus help me find a job."
"God forgive me of my sins."
"God forgive me of my sins." I don't remember what she said but it was along those lines. But, you know, I was praying to something I don't believe in. And I was talking to something I hadn't talked to in a long long long long long time. And she got through saying what she said and I got through repeating what she said and she goes, "Well alright! Good luck!" And she hung up. That's what happened.
I can tell you I walked from the payphone and sat on the couch. Right there at the 180 House and watched some tv. I sat on the couch and a guy came through the door and he walked right up to me and he said, "Hey, you lookin' for any work?"
I said, "Yeah. I am."
He says, "What do you do?" I didn't work my whole life, but I do know today that we all have gifts. And I was given a gift. We all have them. And I have a gift that God gave me. I don't have any experience in construction. I didn't work construction jobs. I didn't paint houses. I didn't frame houses. I didn't roof houses. I didn't do none of that shit, okay? But I know how to do it. I knew how to do it that day. It's a gift. It's something I can do.
I said, "I do construction."
He said, "What kind of construction?"
I said, "I can do anything."
He said, "Really? Well that's what I do. I remodel and flip houses. And that's what I'm needing. I need someone to help us out. What kind of money are you looking for?" I ain't got no tools. Don't have no vehicle. I ain't got no drivers license. I deserve at least fifteen dollars an hour. Typical Alcoholic-Addict. That's who we are.
He said, "Son, I've got guys that been working for me for 30 years that don't make that kind of money. I'll give you seven dollars an hour." This was 17 years ago, which is not a long ago. I knew I needed something and so I said, "Okay."
He said, "I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll come pick you up every day, I'll drop you off every day, and I'll buy you lunch every day."
I said, "Okay." And I went to work.
You probably heard the promises they read in the A.A. meetings. There's promises after every step and after the ninth step it says: "Sometimes they happen quickly. Sometimes they happen slowly." I'm not going to apologize to anybody and never have because they happened to me so very very quickly. They came on and they kept coming and coming and coming. I mean, my life started changing dramatically.
So I got the job. I went to work. I'd go to these meetings. I'm starting to think, Maybe I'll stick around here... I've been around here a week, a week and a half, I'm laughing, I'm having conversations with strangers (which is strange), I'm getting along with the guys... I'm trying to find me a girlfriend (I mean, I just got out of prison. Somebody's got to be available). And I'm feeling pretty good. Just in a week and a half, I'm feeling pretty good. So I'm thinking, Why not stick around for a little bit? And let's just see what this thing's gonna do. And so I heard about this sponsorship thing. And somewhere in those first few weeks, I can't tell you exactly when it was, this is what I heard, and this is my story. Ya'll told me to find a sponsor that has something I want. That's what I heard in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. They told me to get a sponsor that had something I want. They did not say, "You need to find a sponsor that has been to prison. You need a sponsor that shot dope like you shot dope. You need to find a sponsor that stole cars like you stole cars." I didn't hear none of that. I heard: find a sponsor that has something you want. This is my story. This is how I chose my sponsor. There was an old cowboy that sat back in the back. I heard him talk about his ranches. I heard him talk about his cattle. I heard him talk about some oil. I heard him talk about some land. He had some dually pickups. He had lots of cattle; he'd be hauling cattle in these big ol' long cattle things. He'd be going to his other ranch. And I heard him talk about this and I thought, Huh...... Find somebody that has something you want? This guy's got some money and I want some of that. I did not think, That guy sounds like he'd be a good sponsor. He might have his shit together.
So I asked Kurtis to be my sponsor. He handed me a card and said, "Here's my number. You call me every day for 90 days and we'll see how it goes.You miss a day, find a new sponsor."
I said, "Okay. I can do that." And I did. I called Kurtis every day for two years. And I still talk to him three, four times a week. I'm not scared to pick up that phone. A lot of people go, "Why is the phone so heavy??" But I've been around long enough now that I've heard 'em all.
"Well I didn't have time. I worked late." Bullshit.
"Oh, man, we got busy! My girlfriend—" Bullshit.
"Oh, my kid was in the—" Bullshit. You got time to pick the phone up and call your sponsor. It's all bullshit stories. If you don't want to call your sponsor, just say, "I didn't want to call you today." Let's just be honest, you know? Because you always have time to pick the phone up and call somebody.
Anyway, I'd only been there a couple weeks at that time. The guy I was working for did tell me that if I wanted to get a raise— because soon I didn't work for him but a week and I thought I deserved a raise already— he told me if I got a truck he'd give me a two dollar raise. I'll make this story real quick: old man knocked on my door one evening, asked me if I was R— and I said, "Yeah."
And he says, "You lookin' for a truck?"
And I said, "Yeah but I ain't got no money."
He said, "I didn't ask if you had any money. I heard you might be looking for a vehicle." We went over on North 10th to this barn. There was a '93 Nissan pick-up. It had about 35,000 miles on it that looked like it had about 735,000 miles on it. They used it on this guy's farm to throw fire wood in the back of it. Sometimes they hit the truck, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they made it, sometimes it went through the window. This truck was a nice 35,000-mile truck. And he asked me if I'd give him fifteen hundred bucks for it and I said, "I told you I didn't have any money."
He said, "You think you could give me fifty bucks a week?"
I said, "Sure. I could give you fifty bucks a week because I know if I get this truck, I'll get a two-dollar raise." That's eighty bucks more a week. I could afford fifty bucks, you know? I'm thinking about insurance, too. He whipped the title out, he signed the title, said, "Sign here." He signed it and said, "Go on about your way."
I don't know what would have went through ya'll's mind when he signed the title, but what went through my mind is: "I'm never paying you a dime." I mean, I wasn't well in two weeks... three weeks. I wasn't trying to just live a good life. I was just trying to get on my feet. When I left that barn that night, I had no intentions of ever giving that guy anything. He signed the title over to me.
I got to work. I got a two-dollar-an-hour raise. I told him I had a truck. I could not drive that truck that first day because someone told me I needed to talk to the program director of the halfway house. I went up to him and said, "I got a truck. Somebody said I needed to come talk to you before I drove it. I didn't drive it to work today. What's up?"
He said, "You got a driver's license?"
I said, "No."
He said, "You got insurance?"
I said, "No."
He said, "If you drive that truck, you get kicked out of here. You get you a driver's license and some insurance first. If I hear you're driving that truck, I'll kick you out."
And I'll tell you, that really was one of the best things that ever happened to me. There was a couple of years ago that I was driving down the road, minding my own business, and my life kind of flashed in front of me. The last fourteen/fifteen years. And that was one of the best things he ever did for me. Not allowing me to drive that truck without a driver's license and insurance. And what that taught me is: shortcuts. I'm trying to shortcut everything. I'm trying to rush everything. I'm trying to rush the process.
So I got a license. I got insurance. All this happened within about three weeks. I'm driving this vehicle. I got a two-dollar-an-hour raise. I've got a sponsor. Honestly, I wasn't really working the steps but my sponsor was giving me suggestions; telling me to read this, read that. I was lying to him, "Yeah, I'm reading that, and I'll let you know what I read and..." Bullshit. I was lying to him. You know? I really was.
I thought now that I had a vehicle, I had a license, I had a insurance, I had a job, I'd be there about three and a half weeks, I was looking for a girlfriend. It's pretty easy to find a girlfriend in a halfway house if you got a job, a vehicle, and a driver's license. Then it became a little easier. They see you driving, now they want a ride. "Hey, this guy's got a car! He's got a job!" And so I did... I found me a little sicko. I did. I had to go for an easy real sick, sick one. I'd go to A.A. meetings and listen to them talk. I knew she'd been to treatment, like, eleven times. I was like, "That's my girl! That's my girl! Right there. That's her. She just became The One™."
Things were going really good at about four weeks. In such a short period of time. I can tell you when my life changed. It was on the 35th day of recovery, is when my life changed. And when my mind changed, my attitude changed, everything changed. I come home from work on my 35th day of recovery. I had been clean and sober for 35 days, since the day I got out of prison. I didn't count my prison time. Some people do. I started mine when I got out. I came home and I heard the director hollering, "Rick!"
I go, "What!?"
"You got a letter!"
I said, "A letter...?" I haven't spoken to my family in 20 years. I don't know if they're alive... or dead. Nobody knows where I'm at. What do you mean I got a letter? That's kind of what went through my mind. A letter? From who?
And so I went in there and got the letter and immediately I recognized it. It was the letter that I had written the 180 House with the parole papers asking if I could stay there. They were supposed to fill out the forms and send it to the parole board and I'd be going to the halfway house. That's what the letter was. It had come back in the same envelope but a different letter and returned to me. And by the time the letter had gotten back to me, I'd already paroled there. So it had come back and found me.
So I went to my room, and I went to go take me a shower because I just got off work. I needed a shower because I was getting with my little girlfriend I'd got and we'd go out and get a bite to eat or something. Anyway, I took a shower and I got back to my room and that letter kept looking at me from the bed and I was like, "Damn, what is that letter?" That's weird. I'd never had that happen to me. All these years I'd been going to halfway houses, that ain't never happened. I had never had a letter come back to the halfway house. So I opened up the letter and it was the parole application. And I know today that it was the owner's wife, of the 180 House, she's the one that answered my letter. And on my parole paper, asking if I could stay there, there's about a six-inch, red stamp— and I still have it; it's in my drawer right beside my bed— and it says: DENIED.
I don't know how many of ya'll been to prison but they don't let you go anywhere in prison unless you have somewhere to go. How I ended up there is only by the grace of god. And I knew right then and there, when I seen that, I said, "Denied?" I know because of all of my expertise and everything in the prison system I knew something happened... and it was something from another world. In just a few seconds, I started crying. I started bawling. I could not stand on my own two feet. I fell to my knees. And I was crying. Tears was just rolling down my face. And I couldn't stand on my knees. I ended up on my belly. Flat on my belly. On the floor. In my room. Just crying. I don't know if I was there for 10 seconds or 10 minutes. I can't tell you how long I was there. But when I was able to stand up, and able to stop crying and sobbing, because now I know there's a god. And I stood up inside the room, me, myself, and God, and I raised my hands up and I said, "God, if you can do this much for me in 35 days, you can have it. What do you want me to do?" And I didn't know what he wanted me to do. But he could have it.
'Cause let me tell you: at 35 days sober, all those things that happened to me in 35 days, I have not lived this good in twenty-five years. I mean, I had a job, I had a check coming in every week, I had a car that belonged to me, and I drove A LOT of cars. A lot of cars. But none of 'em belonged to me. That was one thing I was known for when I was out there. Slick Rick gon' be driving something sharp, okay? 'Cause I stole some nice cars. I had a job. I had a vehicle. I had a drivers license. I had insurance. I had a girlfriend. I had a little money in my pocket. I had a place to lay my head down. Things were going good. I was showering every night. I was actually using deodorant. I was brushing my teeth. I mean, I was living like a KING. In a frickin' halfway house, I was living like a king.
I immediately called my sponsor after I kind of stopped sobbing. I called Kurtis. I said, "Kurtis, this is what happened." I told him the same story.
He goes, "You know what it sounds like to me? It sounds like you just worked the second and third step. You turned your life over and you told God he could have it. Rick, I've never done this before, usually we do this in person and get together, but it sounds like you just did it."
I said, "Is that what I did?"
He was like, "That's what you did."
He says, "Now we need to go on to your fourth step."
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3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
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