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There
were times when I hung out with those that did it and sold it downtown,
just for the chance of getting a “hit” of that stuff.
By June of 1993, I was invited to live with this guy who worked part-time
as an electrician for a well-known rock bar. I thought by moving to this
other area, I could try to stop. Two weeks later, he ended up inviting
one of his friends over, and he started cooking up and making crack
cocaine in the back room. I couldn’t escape the stuff.
My car broke down when it shouldn’t have. I never doubted why the car
broke down when it did. It ended up costing more to fix the car than what
the car was worth. Soon, the craving kicked in and he had some broken car
stereo equipment that didn’t work. I took a busted CD car player (one of
the first in those days) and took it to a pawn shop. I acted like I just
took it out of my car (I was on a bike). They believed me without trying
it. I walked away with $100.
I was such a good manipulator that one day I needed a ride to get some
crack. This poor guy was working at a nearby 7-Eleven with a wife and kid
at home, trying to make ends meet. I never met him before. I walked into
his store, and within fifteen minutes, I had the keys to his car. Within
three months, the car was gone, where I was staying was gone, I could not
get any jobs. I knew it was God, but the addiction couldn’t go away. God
set it up to where I had to do a lot of thinking about everything. I had
no place to go and a lot of time to think. I’d have just enough for
cigarettes, and I would sit down on a peer overlooking Seabrook bay water
in the sun. |
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I remember getting one more
DJ job. After work, I got
a cab, bought a small rock, and the only motel
open on the Friday night was in Bacliff, right across from the ocean. I
smoked that thing and nothing happened. When I woke up around 12, I
walked outside with nothing – no money – and no where to go. I looked up
into the sky, and I said, “Ok, God, you got me where you want me. I’ve
got to ask you for help”. Instantly, I had a clear knowing of what I was
supposed to do. I was to get a ride from the people leaving the hotel,
stay at an acquaintance’ home in Pasadena that night, and then go into a
Christian-based recovery place called “The Shoulders”.
I found out that I was more concerned about what other people thought
than I did about my own security. Two paroled alcoholics wanted me to
sneak in some liquor on my day off after being there for two months.
Well, I did. And I got kicked out. But seeing this revealed, I was
handed a book I recommend to anyone, “Search for Significance”, by Robert
McGee. I opened that book up the night before I had to leave, and I read
it all night long into the morning. I lived a life of lies, and that book
blew me away!
Sugarcreek Baptist Church paid for my part to continue recovery at
“The Friendship Ranch”. This place was out in the range; barns, horse
stables, a lake, a little old-fashioned church on the premises, like going
back 100 years. I was beginning to become a little more humble, just
Tad's Story Part 3
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