My last drink up to today was Christmas Eve 1967. I used to be called ‘Young’ Peter. I dare not announce myself as Young Peter these days as the laughter will be too much for me. I believe I was always an alcoholic, growing up in a drinking environment with an alcoholic mother and a heavy-drinking father who was a writer and away from home for months. In some sense, I was always going to drink, experimenting when they were out, I never liked the taste, but knew drinking was for me and got into lots of trouble.
I worked in the newspaper game and didn’t like it, so went to work as a Lighterman on the docks, which was the undoing of many. At 16 years old I worked with kids who were taught the trade from their father, they taught me how to pilfer. You earnt good money which paid for booze. I didn’t think it was an issue, even after the first arrest. I appeared in court and swore to never be there again. Cybil Campbell, a judge who often put Dockers in prison for stealing cans of salmon, was a force, I said to her she will not see me again….I appeared again and again, and every time I drank the same stuff happened.
We once came back from a holiday in Spain; I tend to keep away from sunlight so stayed in the bar. We got home, I was very ill, I never tied it up with drinking, and that night I had my only severe hallucination. A fella came through the door, put his finger to his mouth and went shhhh, he kept doing it. I could hear my heartbeat and tried to be sick, I went to see three Doctor’s at Guy’s, they told me to stop drinking…I said no.
In 1966 I was at a function for the World Cup-winning team, as my dad was a journalist. I’d been drinking all day and embarrassed myself; I kicked off in the cab on the way home, got chucked out and began nutting the Nissan showroom window. My wife took me to my parents. I woke up and knew it was bad, it’s always bad. I went home, called A.A for the first time, hearing of them because of a 1962/63 movie ‘Days of Wine and Roses.’ I identified with the main character’s rage, he hides a bottle in the greenhouse, goes to find it, can’t and smashes the greenhouse up. In the end, the fella goes to meetings and looks like he is going to stay sober, it hit me hard back then.
After the function incident, I called Redcliffe Gardens, this old man answered. I asked, “what do you do there?” He said we turned up in a room and talked. I had no intention of going. So, I decided to see my GP, who was an infamous doctor on the Isle of Dogs. He was reading the racing at Wincanton and told me I’m not an alcoholic. He said you drink with the wrong people; he prescribed drugs which I took and they were great. I could’ve flown out the window, but knew it wasn’t good, so asked the wife to throw them away. For six weeks I stayed sober and drank because nothing felt serious anymore, telling myself I have no problem. My only ambition in life was Sobriety and finding a way to stop drinking.
After four days without a drink, I’m trembling with fear because I’m worried about drinking water at the Rising Sun pub. It happened; I remember everything until 2 pm when I blacked out. Waking up in bed with a few bumps and bruises, asking the wife if she whacked me, she said No, you fell over. I’m taking a drag from my cigarette, I say to myself; I won’t do that again, then the other voice said, how many times have you said that? It hit me. I said to the Wife, I’m going to go Alcoholics Anonymous……She said…you think you’re that bad…
I phoned A.A. on 27th December 1967. A laughing Scotsman said: “do me a favour, go this meeting at Toynbee Hall in Aldgate.” I walked up this passageway, entered the room and Bill H opened the door. He said “you got a problem with the drink, mate? Come in, sit down, you don’t have to say anything, no forms to fill out, just sit down.” There were about a dozen people, and in spite of myself was impressed. The guy doing the chair said he drank two bottles of whiskey a day. I didn’t identify with that, but identified with how he felt, how he acted. Johnny the Florist said to me, “do you want to stop drinking? If you go to regular meetings, and you don’t want to drink, I promise you, you won’t drink.” That is what I have done, a day at a time and I’ve not drank since Christmas Eve 1967.
At the time we lived in a condemned rat-infested house on the Isle of Dogs, waiting to be re-housed. My wife stayed at her mum’s. At eight weeks without a drink with lots of booze in the house, storing it to sell to a club owner. I got in bed, nervous and could imagine rats scratching about…it might have been newspapers. I thought if I have a drink, it would calm me down. The debate began, I said, you’re eight weeks without a drink, it’s the longest you’ve gone, do you want to throw that away? I thought Nah, no I don’t and somehow or other fell asleep. My attitude to A.A. changed that night, I daresay it would be called a Spiritual Experience, it changed me completely and believed A.A will continue to keep me sober.
Toynbee Hall in East London was started by ‘Dartmoor’ Bill (the first member to reach 50 years sober in the UK) and Robert U; they got it going after a public meeting at Poplar town Hall. It was the two of them for months. I got there in 1967 and became a regular. It was open two years by then. The secretary was Peter Ferguson, he was hands-on there for six or seven years and started the anniversary meetings. ‘Plaistow’ Bill was a great character, sadly drank after a few years sober, I had him on a pedestal. I found out he drank, when I switched the answerphone on at Redcliffe Gardens and heard my pal drunk. It did me, it was hard. I and others had to remove him from meetings because he would kick-off. It still brings a tear to my eye. Bill ended up staying sober for many years when get got back in
One evening at Toynbee, three drunks came in asking for money. ‘Plaistow’ Bill gave them a few quid, ‘Dartmoor’ Bill followed the three to the pub, wrestled the money back, gave it to Bill and said, this is about not drinking, if we start giving drunks money, all the East End will be in.
Getting involved with service was essential. At the time Toynbee was the only meeting in the East End. There was one before at St Anne’s on Three Colt Street by the Limehouse Group, it was opened in 1959 by a couple of fellas. Geoff, I think, he may still be around. The Ilford meeting was proper posh with lawyers and all that. We started the St Clements hospital meeting to tie it up with the locked ward. It was very Victorian, a terrible mix of mental illnesses, male and female. But people got well, many people got sober there.
In 1972 London Intergroup held the 25th anniversary of Alcoholics Anonymous in Great Britain. Jewish Mike, Peter F, Maisie and myself were part of the committee held at Bloomsbury Hall. Even with worry it ended up being a success. I was the Health Liaison Officer at London Intergroup and found it impossible to get to all hospitals. I said I can’t get to all, it’s too big for me. Shortly after the intergroup was broken up into sections and for my sins was voted in as the first East London Intergroup Chair. I wasn’t even at the meeting. The split happened in 1976, I think. I did a three-year stint, went to Conference for four more years to see the cogs of the fellowship.
I began working in the city in my mid-fifties, as the Docks collapsed. We moved to Brighton in the ’80s, within ten days my mother and father died. My mother had been ill for years, my old man had a minor stroke and wasn’t what he was. I went to Guy’s Hospital to be with my father when he died. The day he was cremated, my dog of 14 years had to be put down. I had to laugh as members called me, they were worried about my condition. I said when I was drinking I felt a lot worse than I do now and that’s how it was. We looked after my parent’s house for 5 years, until I retired and moved to Worthing.
Getting to A.A. in 1967 the members told me there are no rules, not musts. Some would say “I can’t do that bit about…” they’d say don’t do it then, “It says here you’ve got to…” Nah, don’t worry about that, put it on the shelf, and go back to it later. Just keep coming back, that’s the message I got and that’s the message I give. Stock advice, like slow down, easy does it, give time, time. That was the approach, everything remained open as a possibility. I took on board suggestions (steps) 1, 2, 4 and 10. I’ve never prayed, I’ve no belief in a supreme being, but since that night in the house where I imagined rats running about, I’ve never had any inclination, desire or obsession of what a drink would do for me, and that is because of Alcoholics Anonymous.
AA fulfilled my sobriety ambition, showing me how to get through life without having or needing a drink; I almost feel the need to apologise. These days’ people are full-on about getting God, being pressured into having Spiritual Awakenings. I can almost feel like an outsider, but then again, I don’t because I know where I need to be to get. I’m grateful for getting into service, my route for keeping me here. AA has changed greatly from my point of view. It feels weird at times, but I even enjoy that weirdness.
I became responsible, sorting out bills. The wife got resentful as she always sorted it out. I love her, she’s all mine and I love her. We’ve been together 60 years, married 57 years and I wouldn’t want to be without her, but one day, one will be without the other and if it’s me that’s left, I shall need plenty of AA when that moment arrives. I don’t fear any of that, I don’t fear my mortality. I try to live a day at a time.
We did this January 2020 at the Brighton Convention.
East London Archives of Alcoholics Anonymous. 