My name is Jack; I’m 27 years sober (2025). Before coming to A.A., I knew nothing. There are a lot of bad things and good things that go on for people, I do understand; all of my words are locked in my brain because of my stroke, and I cannot say the words.
I’m originally from Belfast. I can tell you sad things and bad people who I know, these are not for me. I understand who people are and what they do. I didn’t have good people around me, so it took me a long time to trust people. And today, my life is tikity boo, I can just about say that word.
I was a naughty boy and one of 10 other children. I was a Jack the lad, while in Belfast, I had three friends, we were playing on an old car, then, the car exploded, the car went off, we were kids, we were 12 years old. Somebody put a bomb in the car, and my friends blew up. I ran, I ran, I don’t know where to, but luckily I ran to my mum. I was in shock; it was horrendous. I still see it in my head… horrendous. My mum had to smack me to get me out of shock. I did not know I was in shock. In my life, to this moment, I often have this thought. This is when we moved from Belfast to East London.
I didn’t know anything about London; all I knew was Belfast. All we knew was horses. My family were horse people. We moved next to a pub in Bethnal Green. At 16, I went to the pub; I didn’t know what a drink was and had to learn how to drink. Alcohol has taken four of my family members. The drink made me a horrible man; I was not a man at all.
I had many jobs, which were all for booze. I was working at the London Palladium as a set designer. Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney both came to my wedding on Bow Road; the two of them, for some reason, took a shine to me. They were lovely. So, I was married, had two kids, and I didn’t know who they were. I know them today. My ex-wife, the best woman I know, knew I couldn’t look after myself, how was I meant to look after a wife and kids; I was a kid myself. My ex-wife said to me, ” You have to stop drinking, I said, ” All Irish people drink, then she said, ” You can go that way, or we will go away from you’. All I did was drink and drink and do more of that…I knew nothing, but thought I knew everything. My wife and kids had gone, life was horrible, I would be crying about everything and nothing.
I went somewhere in the city, like a day centre for my drinking, I can’t think of the name. There I met Richard; he became my sponsor. I had never heard of A.A. before. Richard was well-spoken, from Leicester, a banker, and completely different from me. But he had an illness like mine, and for some reason, I asked him. He was a beautiful man, what I have today, forget my illness, that man happened to be there for me that day, that hour, that minute. I didn’t know anything about A.A. He took me through the big book, which I struggled with. Richard was patient and gave me time.
My first meeting was the fridge on Burdett Road in Mile End, the best thing I ever done. Richard would be there; he had a home in France and invited me to it….I thought…eff off. He was a great man and still is, in my head, as he has gone now. What he taught me, number one, is that you never have to do it again. My father died, and Richard helped me not drink; he taught me about money. He was such a beautiful man and would direct me the right way. I was doing a meeting a day, sometimes two, in Hackney, Mile End, Stratford, Toynbee Hall, and anywhere else. Toynbee Hall had Plaistow Bill, a few Irish, Scottish, and Cockney boys there; they were smart dressers, in shirts and ties.
I used to have a white van and would load it with members and 12-step people. In my early time, Helen, Maxine and someone else took me to Camber Sands, well, I took them; I actually drove them in my van. I didn’t want to go; I went. I was new; it was madness. Helen wanted to go home, so we left early, and I drove all the way back.
I was 10-12 years sober, and moved to Newcastle with a woman who was a Geordie. People didn’t know me in Newcastle. I had changed my whole life for her, for me, and for her two kids. We lived on a large bit of land. Living next door was the goalkeeper of Newcastle. He invited me occasionally to watch the game at St. James ’ Park. I was someone who couldn’t stop drinking and never changed my socks, to living sober and playing golf every day with this goalkeeper. I started an AA golf thing. While living in Newcastle, I went to meetings, making sure everything was good for me and my head. I did services from Hackney to Newcastle. This gives us a life change. I was good at snooker and golf; I played a lot against the top players, like Alex Higgins and Jimmy White.
I learned to fly a plane just before my stroke, and after I couldn’t say boo to anybody, because I couldn’t say one word, I would make noises. I was back in London so that I could be looked after. My words are not there for me to get it out, even though my life is wonderful. Money cannot buy this, it cannot. ‘Boxer’ Frank, who has passed now, I learned so much from him. Hey Jack, what are you doing? He said wanna cuppa tea? We would talk for hours. We would talk about boxing and all that. It was normally 02:30 in the morning, and we would just talk. He would say, I couldn’t believe I been so wrong for so long’. Some people you instantly connect to, Frank was one of them. ‘Teacher’ John also comes to see me here, and we chat, such a lovely man, ‘Scottish’ Paul was a good man as well, some wonderful people, another is ‘Irish’ Kevin.
I know I will be there for anyone who needs help. I’ll take them for a chat, and whether they can trust me is up to you. The people I have met in my life will surprise you. I have learnt to tell no lies. It is lovely to do nice things for people. Today, I have come a long way from not being able to speak and not being able to leave my chair. I have been working on talking; it all came from A.A., where I was able to speak again and use my voice. I was in Royal London for 6 Months, Fred was up there nearly every day, loads of A.A. people came to see me. I couldn’t speak, it was frustrating, I could see the words, just could not say them, but my first word was….fuck.
I do volunteer work at the Royal London, with people who are recovering from having a stroke, and my sister was able to get me in there to help. I sit with them and tell them what I have learned. I go and have a chat and say, “Give it time, take your time. I say little by little, as they are struggling to talk, and I say, “Stick with me; some cannot talk, some are learning like me.” I see how they grow while I sit with them in the hospital; this is all because of A.A.
Today I see my grandchildren, who I love; they are beautiful, absolutely beautiful. My ex-wife is one of the best people in my life. The people I have met, the words have not been written yet. I have come a long way; I have a voice today, and all I did was come to A.A., the college of knowledge.
Took Place at Jack’s place in Mile End, 2025.
East London Archives of Alcoholics Anonymous. 