Finding Closure

Late November 1981 I kissed Marcelle goodbye as she left with her family for a 2-week vacation to Iowa. Marcelle was a young vibrant and attractive 15-year-old Sophomore with brown eyes and brown hair. She was simply the best thing that had happened in my life. I had met her a month earlier and despite the 4- year age difference we fell in love almost immediately. In a short amount of time we both knew we would be together forever. But fate is sometimes a cruel and relentless foe.

Although we had our differences we were able to work most of them out. She was on one hand a pleasure to be with. Kind, caring, loving and compassionate. But on the other she could be a rebellious handful with a raging anger that could be only be described as frightening. I wouldn't change a thing. For me she was perfect. In mid November I asked Marcelle to marry me. She said "yes". Her parents didn't object although they probably should have. After all I was a 19- year old man with no job and no place to take Marcelle and call it "home."

On the day she left, she gave me the key to her house. She wanted me to write a letter to her everyday and put them on the desk in her bedroom. My heart ached as I watched her leave.
I was faithful and wrote her everyday and lovingly placed the letters on her desk. On about the fourth day, I pulled up in front of her house and made my way inside. I walked up the stairs and went to her room. There on her desk were the other letters that I had written. I took the letter I had just written her and placed it with the others. Then, I reached in my pocket and took the house key out and laid it on top of the last letter. I remember wondering why I was doing this. Marcelle wasn't due back for over a week. I still had other letters to write. But it was as if I was unable to stop myself from leaving the key behind on this day. I left her room and went downstairs. Instead of leaving as I had done on previous days, I made my way over to the piano just on the other side of the living room. I sat down and played a song I had written her called, One Day We'll Make It To The Top. Afterward I cried as I thought of how much longer I had to live without seeing her, holding her, kissing her. I stood up and walked back through the living room. I caught my reflection in the large mirror that hung on the wall. I looked awful. My eyes were bloodshot from all the alcohol I was ingesting on a daily basis. I looked sick. I went to the door made sure it was locked and shut it behind me. I walked to my car, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Standing outside the car I looked back at the vacant house. Dozens of memories of Marcelle and I together flooded my brain. Tears welled up in my eyes again as I thought of how much I missed her. After a few more minutes, I got in my car and pulled away.

I arrived home after drinking more beer. My parents were waiting for me in the living room. My dad started the conversation. "How would you like to go to Florida?" He asked. I was excited and responded "Are you serious? YES I would love to go to Florida." Then I asked, "But why?" My dad replied, "Haven't you ever wanted to do something on the spur of the moment?" I shook my head yes. "Well, he continued, that's what we're doing." "When do we leave?" I asked. "Right away" my mom piped in. Surprisingly my bags were already packed. I was so excited about getting out of town for a while. Without Marcelle around and my constantly drinking alone everyday, I figured it would do me some good to get away. My younger sister showed up just as we were getting ready to leave. She was there to see us off. "Julie's not going with us?" I asked. Mom explained that Julie still had school and couldn't get away. Reluctantly I gave Julie a hug and we were off to the airport.

The flight was uneventful. We arrived safely in St. Petersburg, Florida. We picked up our luggage and then went to pick up the rental car. I insisted on driving us to the hotel. My parents didn't argue and handed me the keys. As we drove along the roadway it suddenly occurred to me why I was here with my parents. "Marcelle and her parents weren't in Iowa. They're here in Florida. My folks and hers got together to give us a surprise party and to celebrate our recent engagement." I felt my heart leap with joy and I smiled. I didn't tell my parents that I had figured it out and ruin the surprise. They had worked really hard for this. A little while later, I pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel. My dad and I went inside the lobby to get the key. I practically ran to the hotel room. My parents followed trying to keep up with me. I opened the door completely convinced that I would see Marcelle only to find the room dark and empty. My heart sank and sadness flooded my emotions. I turned around and angrily asked, "Okay, what's going on?" My mom in a calm but nervous voice replied, "We're taking you to STRAIGHT."

I knew about STRAIGHT. It was a drug rehab headquartered here in St. Petersburg. I knew a girl that I had gone to church with was a client there. I had watched my mom talking with Cathie's mom in our driveway as I smoked a cigarette in the garage a few months earlier. Up until that very moment I never saw the connection. I didn't see this coming at all. I was outraged and began yelling at my parents and begged them to reconsider. But my parents weren't backing down. My mom at one point said, "You'll have to go to an Open Meeting tonight. If you still don't want to go after that, we'll talk about it then." By this time I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Below is an excerpt from my book ,America's Most Controversial Drug Rehab

My parents and I arrived at the Straight building at around 5:30PM. I am not one for large crowds, and this lobby was packed to capacity. People were hugging each other, some were crying, some were happy, and some looked exhausted. I looked for Cathie's mom. I couldn't find her. After a while my parents and I were led in to the main auditorium. We were seated near the rear of the room.

Up front was a large group of people. Girls on the left side, guys on the right side. Between the groups were two people sitting on stools. They were singing song like "You can be Straight", "Oh, what a beautiful morning" and "Up, up with people". There must have been close to 350 people sitting up there. To my left I noticed several signs on the wall. These I later learned were the 7 steps of the program. I thought they were interesting but I really didn't understand what the words meant.

The group up front sang a song called "I am Straight" sung to the tune of "I am woman." Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw a man making his way to the front of the group. He was an older man with a gray mustache and beard. He introduced himself as Dr. Newton. He was the program Director. He welcomed everyone to the meeting. He spoke with a confidence I had seldom heard before. As he spoke, he talked about hope, and how change was possible here. He mesmerized me. He was the kind of person I could listen to for hours on end. When he was finished, he turned to the group of clients and said "Love ya group." The group responded in unison "Love you Dr. Newton."

He handed the microphone to one of the Staff members. She welcomed everyone to the Open Meeting and then turned to the girl's side of group and asked, "What girls earned "Talk"? Several of the girls stood up. Everyone clapped. Then the Staff member asked, "What girls earned "Talk and Responsibilities?" Other girls stood up. Again, everyone clapped. The mic was passed to the other Staff member and the same questions were asked of the guy's side of Group.
At this point the Staff Member explained that we were going to hear from the Newcomers that had been here from 3-14 days. We were asked to listen closely to what they had to say. This was an important part of their program. The mic was passed to the end of the front row. Each Newcomer introduced themselves by telling everyone their first name, age, the drugs they have done, how long they did them, if they thought they were a druggie, and how long they had been in the program. After that they started talking about the drugs they used, how their family relationships were, their druggie friends, school, and trouble with the law.

The stories they told were amazing, in fact they were telling MY story. I found myself wanting to cry at times, because I knew what they were talking about. I knew the pain they felt. They talked about the drugs they did and how it affected their lives. They talked about the times they overdosed. Some talked about nearly dying because of these drugs. They talked about the loneliness they felt because of the way they were treated by their druggie friends. They talked about how they had isolated themselves from their families because they were ashamed of their drug problem and how the drugs had become more important to them then their family. They talked about the fear they felt when they found themselves in trouble with the law. They talked about stealing from their family and others to help support their habit. They talked about skipping school so they could go out and get high. After they talked about their past, they talked about how they felt about being in the program. Most seemed to be happy and proud of their accomplishment in staying straight, even if it was only a few days. They then set goals, things they wanted to accomplish in the next few days.

There must have been at least 20 or more people that introduced themselves. By the end of all the introductions, my throat was very sore from holding back the tears of sadness I felt.
Next, there were two other people that had been in the program for a while that introduced themselves. They talked about their past too, but what made their introductions different was the way the talked about their present. They talked about how their family has been closer than ever before. They talked about the quality of their newfound friends. They talked about how well they were now doing in school. They talked about how good they felt because they were dealing with their drug problem honestly. It was quite inspiring to hear them talk the way they were.

After their introductions some parents introduced themselves. They talked about what it was like to have a druggie child living in their home. The isolation, the lying, the stealing and how the family was torn apart because of the drug problem. They would talk about how they would have to bail their child out of jail after being arrested. The pain and anguish was sometimes unbearable. But then they talked about the closeness that the family is experiencing now that their child is off drugs. They talked about the pride they feel when they look at their child today. After they finished their introduction their child made their way out of the group and gave their parents a hug. It was emotional for me to see this. I hadn't given a genuine hug to my parents in so long.

I had thought I had seen more than I wanted to see, but it wasn't over yet. One of the Staff Members announced that it was time for the parents to talk to their kids. I couldn't believe what I just heard. There were well over 600 parents in this room and I didn't want to think about how much longer we were going to be here. I started getting a little agitated.

The mic was given to one of the parents on the front row and was passed from there. For the most part the parents merely said, "Love you" to their child. From deep within the group you could hear the response back "Love ya Mom, Love ya Dad." But it wouldn't be long before a couple would stand up. A child in the group would stand and listen. The parents talked to their child about how they felt about them being here. A lot of times the parents would let them know that they were glad they were here and would give them encouragement. One message that seemed to be repeated was even though they loved their child very much, they weren't coming back home unless they were straight.

Every now and then a couple would stand to talk to their child and out of nowhere a shout from the group said, "Coming home!" Everyone in the auditorium would applaud. It was deafening. Seconds later the child could be seen making their way out of the group and then run across the room to their parents. They would hug for a long while. I couldn't hold back. I was so overwhelmed with happiness for the family I started crying. After the child got back to where they were sitting, the parents would talk to them about how proud they were that they were finally coming home. They looked forward to starting the healing process within the family. This happened several times during the course of the night. Sometimes when a parent would tell their child "Love you", the child would yell out "Third Phase" or "Fourth Phase". Again, there was the deafening eruption of applause. The parents would take a few moments to talk to them about their progress and how proud they were of them.

About an hour later, someone came up to my parents and I and escorted us out of the auditorium. I was relieved. "Finally, I get to leave this place." Was I ever wrong. I was taken to a very small room. It was carpeted, measure about 10 X 10, only one door, and no windows. In the corner of this room was one chair. I was asked to sit down. I complied. Two guys came in and introduced themselves. I was polite and shook their hands. They brought in two other chairs and sat down in front of the door. I felt trapped, no... I was trapped. I was asked about what drugs I did. I told them everything. I held nothing back. But when I was asked if I thought I had a drug problem, I lied and told them I had it under control and could quit any time I wanted. They asked me if I had ever stolen from my family to get money for drugs. I told them I had. They asked me how I got along with my family. I told them I thought we got along okay. They asked me how I did in school. I told them I was a poor student before and after doing drugs. They asked me if I had ever been in trouble with the law. I told them about the time I was arrested for reckless operation. They asked me if I thought my friends were decent. I told them that I thought some were all right, but others weren't very good for me. They asked me if I had ever skipped school or called off from work to get high. I told them that I skipped school to get high, but I didn't call off from work. They asked me where I worked. I told them I was unemployed. I was beginning to feel embarrassed to answer the questions because I knew where this was headed. They asked me why I wasn't working. I told them I didn't want to work. They asked me if I would rather get high than find a job. I told them I would. Then I was asked again, if I thought I had a drug problem. I hesitated. Then said "maybe".

On a pretty consistent basis this one kid would stick his head into the room and ask if I was going to sign into the program. I don't remember what my response was, but this guy didn't give up. He must have asked me a half a dozen times if I was going to come into the program. He started getting on my nerves. He seemed almost giddy with happiness. I was a little jealous because I didn't feel happy at all. I remember at one point I wanted to go outside and smoke a cigarette. One of the guys left the room to check if I was allowed to leave. He came back and told me I couldn't leave yet. I told him that I wasn't going anywhere but outside and I would come back in after I was done. He still said no. I was pissed now. I started yelling at them and told them they couldn't stop me from going outside to smoke. I was, after all, an adult. I stood up to leave, but the two guys got up and blocked the door. Being a skinny, 135-pound guy with no fighting ability, I was intimidated by them and sat back down. I was still very mad about this situation. I was a caged animal! A different group of guys came in and sat down. They asked me the same questions that the first set of guys had asked. I told them I already answered their questions and now I wanted to leave. I was told that my parents were in a meeting with other parents and I couldn't leave until they were dismissed. I told them that was fine, I could meet them out in the parking lot. They still told me I wasn't going anywhere. I was mad. Over the course of the next several hours I was repeatedly asked about my drug problem, my family relationship, my friends, my job situation and my druggie girlfriend. That same guy constantly asked me if I was going to sign in. I repeatedly answered their questions, but let them know that I was ready to leave and would talk about this in the morning, I was exhausted. I was finally allowed to leave the room between 3:30 and 4:00AM.

I met my parents in the parking, got in the car and lit up my first cigarette in nearly 12 hours. They asked me what I thought of the program. I told them that I thought it was okay but I didn't think I needed to be there. I begged my parents to reconsider and let me go home with them. I tried to convince them that I could take the steps down off the wall, take them home, and get straight on my own. But it didn't matter what I said. My parents weren't going to take me home. It was at this point that reality hit me. There were only two round trip tickets in the car and mine wasn't one of them. I went to bed depressed and scared of what tomorrow was going to have in store for me.

I returned to Straight, Inc. the next morning at about 9:00AM. I was still exhausted from the events of the night before and wasn't happy to be making a return trip here. As we pulled in front of the building I noticed bars on the windows. They were decorative but bars nonetheless.
I was led to a room where my Intake was to take place. It wasn't in an Intake room like last night, but it looked to be a storage room. Hundreds of chairs were kept here for Open Meeting nights. For the next couple of hours I was asked about my drug use. Again, I admitted to all the drugs I ever did. But when I was asked if I thought I needed to be there, I said "no".
I was almost convinced that I would be leaving the building without signing in. When suddenly the door opened. There he was, Dr. Newton stuck his head inside and began yelling at me about how I had treated my family. The confrontation didn't last more than ten seconds or so and when he slammed the door closed, I was stunned. I broke down and began crying. The Oldcomers asked why I was crying. I told them that everything that he just said was absolutely true. In moments I agreed to sign myself in.

The next thing I remember I was in other room and I had just signed the paperwork making me a Client in the program. The Oldcomer told me that I had made the right decision. I was scared to death of what would happen next.

I got up to go with them for my strip search. An Oldcomer reached behind me and grabbed my belt loop. I went to swing at him and was sternly told to relax. It was explained to me at that point that this was the manner in which I would be led around until I made second phase. I began regretting signing my self in.

I was led to the bathroom where I was told to strip. Although I understood why the strip search had to be done, it was a humiliating experience. After the strip search was over I was led out to the group.

As I was walking along the wall toward the St. Petersburg group. The Staff member asked if I was from Cincinnati. I nodded yes. We continued along the wall until we came to a door on my left. We entered the room. Inside, was a smaller group set up the same way as the larger St. Pete group. Guys on one side, girls on the other. I was stopped, just inside the room. One of the Staff members allowed a person who was talking to finish what she was talking about. Afterward, the Staff member told the group to "Listen Up." The person standing behind me introduced me. "This is Don, he is twenty, and he's done pot, alcohol, hash, uppers, downers, cocaine, LSD, tye stick and glue. He has done these drugs over a period of five years. He says he doesn't want to be here, but knows he needs to be." The Group remained silent. At this point the Staff Member asked, "Does anyone know Don?" I saw a hand go up and there she was, Cathie. We didn't do drugs together, but because we knew each other, I was told that talking to her was prohibited. Next, the Staff Member asked if anyone had anything to say to me. "Here it comes", I thought. I am going to get yelled at. I was going to be told that I really had a drug problem and needed to be here." Instead I heard the group yell in unison, "Hi Don, Love ya Don." I was stunned. I was led to a chair on the front row. As I was walking, I made eye contact with another client sitting in the third row. His name was Dave. His eyes glared at me as though he was mad at me. I was scared. "Why was he so mad at me?" I thought. I sat down and tried to take it all in. I briefly glanced back at Dave again to see if there was a way I could find out why he seemed so angry with me. Again, his eyes glared at me and motioned me to turn around. I sat there, scared, confused, and thinking that perhaps I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My thoughts turned to my family. "Had they abandoned me?"

End of Excerpt

Then it suddenly hit me. A thought that hadn't crossed my mind yet. "Marcelle is going to find the key on her desk and she is going to think I intentionally left her." I panicked. I began crying uncontrollably. I frantically looked for someone to talk to. With tears streaming down my face I spoke out to a 5th Phaser desperately trying to get his attention. Looking briefly at a Staff member he eventually made his way down the front row to me. "Please, I said, I need to call my girlfriend and explain where I am. She's going to think I left her on purpose when she gets home. I just need to make one phone call, PLEASE!" I begged. The 5th Phaser told me I wasn't allowed to make any phone calls until I was on 2nd Phase and even then I wouldn't be allowed to call her. I don't remember how long we argued but I pleaded with him over and over to make an exception here, after all I am an adult. But all the crying and begging in the world wasn't enough to convince him to let me make that single phone call.

Later that night at my Oldcomers house I asked if I could call Marcelle. My Oldcomer was even less understanding than the 5th Phaser in group. For the first two weeks in the program I cried in the dismissal line thinking about her, wondering how she was doing and if she was angry with me for being gone. I didn't know if my parents would tell her where I was or not.

The Cincinnati group left St. Pete on January 5, 1982. I was still on 1st Phase and was no closer to going home than when I first arrived. I had only earned Talk a few times and I think some of those were sympathy Talks.

At some point I buckled down and really started to work. It had taken me weeks to learn the steps and signs and all. One day, day 50, it all fell together. 23 day later I was on 2nd Phase.
Less than 60 days after that, I was on 4th Phase.

5th Phase was by far my longest Phase, well over 120 days. Twice as long as it should have been.

I 7th Stepped(Graduated) on November 19, 1982. Just 3 days after I turned 21 and 9 days shy of a year in the program. I had never gotten restrained, I never copped out and I was never started over or set back.

I went on to become a 7th Step Officer and President of the 7th Step Society. During my term as Officer just after my 6 months 7th Step anniversary, I had a one time sexual encounter with another high school girlfriend. I knew it was "wrong" in Straights eyes and I felt guilty but said nothing to no one for fear I would be sent back to the group. I didn't want that.

In October 1983 I went on Staff. After several weeks I began to feel even more guilty about not telling anyone about the sexual relationship. But I finally broke down and told Dave Momper, who was on Junior Staff.

After the rest of the Staff found out what I had done I was sent to see Dave Crock, the Assistant Director. My responsibilities were taken away and I had to stand in the back of the group, motivate and relate in group like a common 5th Phaser. During my punishment not a single Staff member showed any support or concern. I was abandoned.

Within two weeks I was reinstated but the isolation and abandonment from the other Staff never stopped. I was constantly confronted. Depression began to creep into my life for the first time ever. Not too much longer after that, Suicidal tendencies began to take over my thought life.

Several times and without warning I would find myself starting to cry having absolutely no control over when it happened or for how long. I would run into an Intake room or bathroom until the tears subsided.

One Tuesday following one of my crying fits, I made a deal with myself. "If I don’t make Junior Staff today, I'm going to kill myself and be done with this." I stepped out of the Intake Room and made my way to the front of the Group to lead the Afternoon Rap while the rest of the Staff were in their weekly Staff Meeting. For the first time in a long while, I felt oddly at peace.

As the Group was singing a few songs, Laura stepped into the room. She was a Junior Staff member. I was always very fond of Laura. I was surprised to see her. She stepped up to the isle way separating the guys and girls sides and made eye contact with me. She wanted to come up to the rap stools with me. I shook my head and she walked up and sat down next to me. At first I thought she was going to replace me so I could go to the Staff meeting and get confronted more. But she leaned over and said "They want me to observe you so I'm doing this rap with you." I was thrilled. I had never gotten to do a rap with Laura.

She and I did the rap, which went off without a hitch. In fact at one point Laura leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I don't know why I'm up here, you're doing a great job." I felt like I was on cloud nine. I smiled and felt a sense of pride and accomplishment.

After the rap, Laura left the room to finish up the Staff Meeting. I really set myself up to make Junior that day. But I didn't. Shortly after dinner I was called back into the Staff offices and confronted again. But this time I wasn't bothered by it all. In fact as they were yelling at me, I smiled. One of the Staff members asked, "Why the hell are you smiling, you think this is funny?" "No sir I replied, but Laura says I'm doing a great job." Needless to say I didn't kill myself. Laura very well may have saved my life that day.

I left Staff shortly after that and the depression and suicidal ideations vanished. But the thought of Marcelle continued to linger.

I became an OTR truck driver, which I did for exactly one year. I left the trucking industry in 1985. It wasn't too long after I returned home that Straight Inc. had their first National 7th Step Reunion. It was going to be in Cincinnati.

I attended. While I was there a friend of mine came up and told me something I have never forgotten. "Don, Marcelle had been waiting for you for over two years AFTER you 7th Stepped." I was devastated. The guilt, the shame, the anxiety it all came back again and stronger than ever.

Ever since that day every year at this time I go through all these feelings. In the last three years or so, the feelings have intensified to the point of extreme depression and even suicidal thoughts dance in my head.

For years I wondered why I always went through this crap year after year. I think I finally figured it out. There has never been any closure. I have never had the opportunity to set the record straight and explain what really happened. I have never heard her tell me it's all right and that she's forgiven me for what happened. I know that once that happens, it will we settled in my mind and in my heart.

For more information about Straight, Incorporated, and my personal experience there, please take the time to read my on-line book, America's Most Controversial Drug Rehab.