East London Archives of Alcoholics Anonymous.

I came into A.A. on 6th July 1995; my first meeting was in Chingford. ‘Kerry’ Kevin, Gardener Bob and ‘Glasgow’ Bill was doing the chair and a bloke called Brian. I remember Brian spoke about where the drink took him, and I had identification, especially when he said he came out of a blackout singing with Cliff Richard. I came out of a blackout in the Lyceum ballroom, onstage playing the piano. It’s funny what you get identification with. It was meant to be; he was a lovely man. He wasn’t a sponsor or anything; he used to guide me. Sadly, he was killed in an accident coming home from a convention.

I went to two meetings; my third meeting was at South Woodford on Saturday night. The chair scared the absolute living daylights out of me. I was going home, I thought fuck this, I can’t do this; it was because it was reality. When I got home, my hand was shaking, and I couldn’t get my key in the door. I never went back for three months and ended up in rehab in Chaucer. It gave me time away to think. I got put out for disobeying orders for smoking. It did me good, and yet I had no clue what I was going to do.

I went to WACS in Beulah Road in September 1995, the start of my journey. Builder Mick had come in; we started going to the Whipps Cross meeting on Friday night. Brian put out his hand and said, ‘Welcome home, Ray. I kept on coming, kept on listening to the old boys like ‘Gardener’ Bob,

‘Farmer’ Dave, Mick and Joe; there was Kerry, Kevin, a Northern Irish bloke called Tony; there was Bill, Wee Brendan. They were all there. ‘I and ‘Builder’ Mick were always together; we were good mates and still are, he is a great man. Also, Liam and Gwen, we went to our first overseas convention together. Gwen would invite us for Christmas dinner. We would go to football together,

At 9 months, I became chair at the Whipps Cross Meeting. I did it for a year, and during this time, my mother died. I flew to Belfast and came back to attend the meeting, as I had to serve as secretary. This service got me through that period. My mother had Alzheimer’s and when I used to visit, I’d go to the pub and buy her illness. She would give her right arm for what I had in memory, and I’d go to the pub on Thursday and not remember anything until Tuesday; it was terrible.

I learnt to drive in A.A; the fellas in my car on the way to the Chingford meeting are no longer with us. I couldn’t get my head around them relapsing. It was shocking for me. I was newly sober; it drove me towards step 3. I can’t, he can, let him. I can’t do it, so put trust in Step 3. I thought we would get sober and grow tomatoes together, completely naïve. ‘Farmer’ Dave said to me, “The shattering of one’s own illusions is the most difficult part; watch it in A.A, Ray”. The Sensitivity you come in with will make you drink again. He was a good man; he guided me a lot. With the Steps, I never asked anyone to sponsor me. John, Imogen of the Telephone office set up a deaf meeting in Victoria. I can’t remember the time; it is still going. Some great old-timers came along every week, ‘Dartmoor’ Bill was one, never had a sponsor; he said, ‘I never needed them, Ray. He did more 12-step work than anybody. I know the truth when I hear it, when I listened to him, ‘Plaistow’ Bill, ‘Tall’ Mick, Joe and ‘Awesome’ Terry and other old-timers.

In 1999, we set up the Millennium Meetings. Simon, the chair of Intergroup, a lovely man, had a great voice and looked authoritative. He said, coming up to 2000, the millennium, a fantastic opportunity, he turned to me, ” What are we going to do for it, Ray? I said, ” We’ll have a meeting in 48 or so hours, he said, Will we? I said, “Yeah, no problem, go for it.” He said. Just like that, Simon gave me responsibility. I spoke to Jenny of Durning Hall, who was very good to AA. We got to the hall. Intergroup had my back. That was the main thing. The support got me going. It’s incredible to think I was four years sober when we started it.

The night before was terrible; I didn’t fall asleep until 5 am and was up at 7 am. Met Margaret on Fairlop Road. ‘Awesome’ Terry did the first chair: he was 30 years sober at the time, Paul, the secretary, was 30 years old. 17 people turned up; they all came from a party, and they fell asleep. People came through the day.

It was a safe place for people like me; the loneliness would come in on New Year’s Day, and I needed meetings. I wanted it to be social. Going to the café, singing after the last meetings of the 48 hours. It was two good days. Liz G was great; she helped and put up with my anxiety, which started in October. I’d get the flyers off; Gary would travel anywhere to hand flyers to people abroad in case they visited London—one story: this homeless guy was sleeping on a chair in Forest Gate. A bloke newly in A.A. stepped him, woke him up, and brought him to the meetings. He was an older man. The new member said, ‘Don’t drink, get God in your life, and you’ll be alright, never drink again’ The look on the man’s face was shock, he sat there as he was fed tea and coffee. He had a heart attack; luckily, a nurse was in the room. An ambulance was called. The guy was in a blackout, the next second he’s told to get God, and he’s sitting in an A.A meeting. That was the only issue we had really, and he was looked after.

Millennium Meetings taught me patience, tolerance and how to trust. When the Brighton convention began in 2001, I would head there to relax. I was Social Secretary for years, and it still blows my mind that there was never a committee. I had help from people like Richard, who played the bagpipes. Margaret was invaluable; Willie C would handle the music, and Charlotte took the last meeting. Then, ‘Driving Instructor’ Mick did it for the last 16 years. The generosity was astounding; people with no money did service. The intergroup’s chairs supported me. Ruth would print the flyers, and Connie was helpful. The second year, we went through the night. I have sixteen secretaries who would find the chair. Paul from North London would bring ‘Chicken Shed’ Peter from Sussex to do the chair. Fireman Tony, Tony would stay all day; I miss that man. I find it hard to go to the Monday meeting these days. If I needed anything, they were there. ‘Irish’ Jean and Zita were so good with newcomers. Jean would come with sweets and biscuits; they all supported me. They never missed one until they passed away, and then they were still there. So many backed me up, especially Liz, when I look back now.

I remember being four years sober. After the Whipps meeting, I got home at 3 am from the tea hut. My ex-partner was asleep, because she could sleep soundly, this gave her a life, it released her from my problem with my drink; she also got released from it, and me. When we split, we both knew it was coming, and it took one of us to do it, and it was the best and worst thing. She had the courage to do it. I had to start living on my own. Through this, I had the rooms. No matter what is happening, I go to a meeting and always have the support of good people. In 2003, the relationship ended; I was seven years sober. Davey, whom I was looking after, moved to another Care home. I was left homeless and alone. So I was at the Billet roundabout, with £300 in my pocket, in my car, and a suitcase. I went on a spiritual journey around England, Scotland and Ireland for 90 days. Best thing I done. I was in Ireland for a week; going through Connemara was beautiful. Just going out and speaking to people again, I’d go to meetings nearly every day and night.

I got into Psychosynthesis at college, which is sub-personalities at a degree level. The tutor helped me for those 4 or 5 years. I did my step 5 with the supervisor, arranged by my tutor. It showed me why I did these things, why I felt remorse and guilt, and why I had questions. He sat, listened, and said, ” You have

Your own answers are inside you. My job is to pose the question; it’s for you to find and feel it. You won’t change until something happens, so stay on this journey. He told me about a woman who sat where I was every week for eight years; no matter what he said, it didn’t matter. One day, she looked different. She said, ” This is my last session. What brought about the change, he asked. She said she went over on her foot, broke her ankle and decided…life was too short. I realised it’s the journey from the head to the heart. Some see me as an Angry Irishman; they didn’t know I couldn’t hear my own voice. I’ve been diagnosed as profoundly deaf. I never knew how to express myself or tell people what I felt.

This is a vicious illness, I have seen in my family and in me, the damage it does to people. A.A. is about repairing. I asked ‘Northern Irish’ Tony what people think of me; he said it’s none of your business what they think of you. It took me years to understand that people want it instant now, and the phone gives instant answers. I bought a phone and do everything on the phone now, emails, bookings, it answers so many questions. I go to meetings and have the support of good people; some are still with us, some I haven’t had a relationship with in years, and some are no longer with us.

The love, understanding and empathy for yourself when you get that, you begin to understand the process. There was a project at Leeds University called ‘Forgiveness,’ related to the 12 steps. A professor took it, and a few of us went. I grew up in Northern Ireland, so how do you forgive? The professor said, ” Forgive yourself, Ray. It starts with yourself. Do you feel rage or anger? You acquired them; if you start forgiving yourself for having those feelings. I realised this was the same with my deafness, physically and profoundly I’m deaf, but spiritually I’ve got 100% hearing, I heard at my first meeting; for an alcoholic like myself, do not pick up the first drink and you cannot get drunk. It was that simple and profound, yes, you’ll break, smash up, crack up or fuck up, but don’t pick up. I got that, I needed simplicity. Sobriety gave me a burst of creativity, an “O” Level in Art, for abstract stuff; I thought they only gave it to me because I’m an alcoholic. Suddenly, the emptiness fills up, and I begin to feel good, up here. Just to be rid of hangovers, blackouts, and kick-ins, and to see the light come back on. All I wanted to do was get sober and stay sober, and I knew AA provided this for me and helped get rid of the violence in myself. Do a good turn, don’t tell anybody, I used to tell everyone; I don’t anymore. It’s fantastic.

This took place at The Stratford Olympic Park in 2023