From Spanish Harlem to a Hot Mess: Tom's Alcoholism Story

[INTERPOSING VOICES]

Hey, tell me things.

Hi, everybody.

My name is Tom Lugo, and I'm an alcoholic.

And so I have to thank Scott for asking me,

inviting me to come and share, and allowing

me to come in person where I have to wear pants at instead

of being.

I feel much more comfortable doing it this way,

although I really hate the Zoom thing.

But it has its purpose, right?

But the feeling that I have right now in this room,

it's incredible.

I have to thank my man--

I have to thank my man Sean and, of course,

my man Adam for driving down with me from Las Vegas

to come and support me today.

I could speak for 30 minutes about different people

in this meeting that mean the world to me.

And I don't have enough time to thank everybody, right?

Tammy knows how special she is.

Linda knows.

Eddie knows.

But there's a few people in this meeting

that are the reason why I'm sober today, right?

I have to tell you in a genuine way what it was like,

what happened, and what it's like for me today, right?

Because that's what we're supposed to do, right?

And so growing up a product of a broken home in New York City,

Spanish Harlem, right?

To be specific, grew up without a dad.

And most of the other families were broken homes, too.

But I felt different growing up, right?

I isolated, and I got into books.

And I just felt different no matter what.

And growing up in a Puerto Rican household,

drinking was always acceptable in my family, right?

And so it didn't matter if it was a party.

It didn't matter if it was a funeral.

Drinking was always allowed.

And so nobody looked down upon anybody drinking.

But I have a lot of evidence in my family.

My mother's uncle, Tio Javier, we

visited him once when he was in the hospital with his liver

poking out through here.

And they said he was an alcoholic.

I didn't know what an alcoholic was.

I thought an alcoholic was somebody that slept underneath

the staircase and had all their belongings in the shopping cart.

And so as I started to drink and my disease progressed,

I denied.

I spent a long, long time denying

that I was an alcoholic.

It wasn't until I came into treatment

that I learned about alcoholism.

And so growing up in New York, it was tough, right?

And so I tried as long as I could to make it work.

And my mom had had just about enough of me, right?

If I had the choice, I'd still be at home sucking

on that baby bottle, right?

But my mom had had just about enough she had.

And I had interviewed for a job in California by mistake.

And so my mom put me on a one-way ticket

and sent me out to California and took

my house keys at the airport.

And the bad part was, as you hear all over the place,

I brought myself along with me, right?

And so it didn't take me long to find out the connect.

I was still not 21, and I couldn't drink.

But I was living in a fleabag motel off of San Fernando Road

somewhere in Sunland.

And across the street, there was this liquor store.

And this Chinese guy would sell me some chocolate vodka.

And so that became my mouthwash in the morning.

And I proceeded on my merry way of trying

to be a responsible human being.

But I was totally irresponsible.

I bought my same attitudes and fears and resentments.

And I started working for this aerospace company.

At the time, I was 20 years old.

And I was working on a top secret project

that nobody on the world knew what we

were working on for many years.

And I tried my best to piss that job away.

I tried so many times.

You couldn't count on me for anything.

But somehow, I kept my job.

And then after 90 days, I sent for my girlfriend from New York.

And she moved in, and we started to set up household.

And so I had-- the heat was on to do the right thing, right?

And so I took a bus from Hollywood Way.

And I took the wrong bus.

If I would have taken this bus, and it would have gone this

way, I would have ended up in a nice part of town,

like Toluca Lake, or a real nice part of town.

But I took the bus this way and ended up in North Hollywood

on violent right between Victory and Van Owen.

And I got an apartment there that

had this green shag carpet.

And I thought, oh my god, what a place, man.

They got rugs, you know?

And they had lights in the light bulbs.

They had lights in them.

And I started-- I was living out of a suitcase.

And my girlfriend came in and moved all her furniture

in from New Jersey.

And we started to live as a couple, but I was a mess.

Now I call myself--

I'm still a mess today, but I call myself a hot mess now.

Now I'm a hot mess.

I'm not a mess like I was before, right?

That's a term that I think they're using today, right?

But anyway, you know, what happened was my first drink.

I forgot.

I skipped way past my first drink.

My first drink was a normal drink.

But my first drunk was a family event.

And I don't know what it was, a birthday or baptism

or something.

And all I remember was me and my cousin,

we snatched a bottle of menagerics.

And we went up to her room.

And we started to pop the thing and pass it around.

And all I remember was, like, everybody kind of fell asleep.

And I'm still drinking.

And the next thing I remember was there was puke flying

all over the place.

And I was in the living room.

And everybody was kind of laughing at me

in the kitchen, whatever.

And I was a mess.

I was drunk and loaded and throwing up.

And I didn't know it then, but that was the pattern

that I was to follow, right?

When I take a drink, the drink takes me.

There's no predicting what happens when I drink.

And so I don't know.

Sometimes I could drink a few and be OK.

And sometimes I'm not going to be OK.

But normally, I end up sick and throwing up

in a very inappropriate place.

And so back to California, same thing, right?

I was a mess all over the place.

And so I'm working at this place with a clearance,

with responsibilities, and I'm putting people's lives at risk.

And I didn't know.

But my drinking was progressing.

My using was progressing.

And my life was totally out of control.

And I could have named a million things

that was going on in my life that I knew I had a problem

with that needed fixing.

None of them had to do with alcohol.

None of them.

My whole last year before I got sober

was spent trying to quit every single day.

And every single day, I would start my day off.

I would smoke a dupe, go in the shower.

I would spit out.

Chunks of blood would come out my nose.

And I would pit out the shower, clean up, smoke the rest of the dupe.

And I felt good.

Up until about getting close to lunchtime,

I had to go and get something to drink.

We would call this Mexican restaurant.

This was my day.

This is every day, every day, every day.

We would call this Mexican restaurant up

on San Fernando Road.

And we would order pictures of ice cold beer and burritos.

And there was many times that I went there,

and I never finished a burrito.

But I never left any of that beer on the table, right?

Today, the burritos don't stand a damn chance.

I hate to say it, but my life is totally different than what

it was when I walked in here.

And if you're new here, I want you

to know that if Alcoholics Anonymous can work for me,

it can work for anyone.

I resisted this program.

I resisted being an alcoholic until the jig was up.

I went to this treatment program,

and I met Bruce at the treatment program

before he was an alcoholic.

I think Bruce was a wine connoisseur there.

And so my sponsor calls that a wino with a checkbook, right?

And so me and Bruce, we hit it off, right?

And we used to sit in that treatment program.

And I'm only going to talk about me.

I would blame everything on my wife.

And we would justify our crap.

And we created a bond and a friendship

that lasts till today.

Bruce is a brother.

It doesn't matter how far our phone conversations go.

We're brothers.

And that treatment program, my last drink--

I'm going to talk about my last drink.

My last drink was a typical night for me.

My wife, at this time, was pregnant with the second child,

right, when she was pregnant with my son.

When my son was born, I wasn't sober.

I didn't know how to be a dad.

And there was times when I was incapable.

I had to take care of my son until my wife got home.

And he was just a little baby.

And he would come up to me with crap coming out of his diaper.

And I would push him into the room

and throw some toys in there.

And I would continue doing what I was doing, what I had to do.

And I was incapable of taking care of that guy.

And the last night drinking was a Saturday night.

And we had made plans to go out.

We're going to go out to dinner, honey.

We're going to go out to dinner.

And I went out, and it was a typical thing.

Eight hours later, 10 hours later, I stumbled back in.

I'm drunk.

I'm loaded.

I look at her, and I see that look on her face.

And so I go to the bathroom.

I put water in my face and try to clean up and act like I'm OK.

And I look at her, and she's pregnant with our daughter

at that time.

And my son is a little baby.

And I go, honey, we're going to go out to dinner.

I just need to kind of just take a little nap.

And I go, and I lay down, and the room was spinning.

And I had that moment of clarity that I hope everybody has that.

And for some reason, a thought came to me.

And it was, Tom, you need help.

And I said, God, please help me.

I don't know what to do.

God, I need help.

I don't know what to do.

And I got up off that bed, and I went to the wife.

And I said, honey, I have a problem, and I need help.

And I'm a mess.

And she threw the phone book at me.

And she goes, damn it, if you need help, you go get you some help.

I'm out of here.

And I went through that stupid phone book.

And I went right past AA, because I'm thinking psychiatric help.

I'm thinking treatment center.

I'm thinking shikshed or whatever the hell, right?

And I go through, and I find this number, and I call this guy.

And I proceed to interview this guy for a friend of mine

that I know needs help.

I mean, you've heard it, but this is the God's honest truth.

I call this guy up, and I go, I have a friend that I think has a problem.

And I start talking to this dude.

And he goes, well, what kind of insurance do you have?

And so I tell him, I work for Lockheed.

Oh, you're good, man.

You're good, right?

Automatic.

And so they made an appointment for me for an evaluation free of charge

for Monday.

And so long story short, we didn't go out to dinner that night.

Sunday, I just laid in bed the whole day.

Monday, I got up, and I went to work.

After work, I came home.

I was feeling a little better.

I said, honey, I'm sorry about what happened over the weekend.

Oh, no.

We have an appointment.

She had her bags right there by the door.

And so my back was against the wall.

And so reluctantly, I went to that interview at that treatment center.

It was VISTA Recovery right here off of Van Nuys, Sepulveda, and Sherman Way.

It was a business thing.

And I go in there, and this guy's talking to me.

And he's telling me about alcoholism and how it ravaged his family.

And he was a professor, and it ruined him.

He lost his family.

He lost his job.

And I felt really sorry for that guy.

I go, man, I'm so sorry to hear that.

My case was different, but I wasn't saying nothing.

And I just did not think that I had a problem that needed help.

And maybe I need to cut down on some of that reefer smoking stuff

or maybe some of that non-addictive powdery stuff that was going up my nose.

Maybe I might need to cut down on that, but I don't have an alcohol.

I don't have a drinking problem.

I don't have these types of problems.

Like, man, these bills are driving me nuts.

This job is driving me nuts.

And so the guy can see through the BS in my eyes.

And he says, I'm going to ask you two questions.

And he goes, do you believe if you continue to drink and use

the way you're doing that you're going to live much longer?

And I said, no.

Then he put that hook in my back.

He says, do you want to live or do you want to die?

And I could not answer that question.

I swear to God.

I looked at my wife, I looked at my son, and that look again.

And I said, I want to live.

I want to live, right?

So he throws these papers for me to sign my life away.

And $15,000 later, he gives me this big book with the 12 and 12

and the guide, the steps, one, two, and three,

hazelton guide wrapped in cellophane

and throws me into this group and throws

my wife into another group.

And I'm walking there, and I see people.

And I don't see faces because I'm not

capable of looking at people in the eye like I am today.

I see shoe tops.

And I'm looking down on the floor, and I'm walking in there.

And it's a treatment.

It's like a counseling session.

And I don't know what's going on.

I have no idea.

There's steps on the wall.

I don't know what that means.

I don't know what none of that crap means.

I'm just sitting there.

And I was incapable of looking people in the eye.

And I signed up for that stupid treatment program.

And the best thing that they did was

that they educated me to alcoholism

as a disease with a set of symptoms and a prognosis.

And if left untreated, it was jail and sanity of death.

I understood that.

Three other things I understood.

When they said pitiful, incomprehensible demoralization,

I never heard that term before.

But when they said it, I knew exactly what that meant.

I knew exactly what that meant.

I still wasn't an alcoholic back then.

I still wasn't an alcoholic.

And so part of that stupid treatment program

was that during the weekends, we had to go to meetings.

And one of those meetings took place at that treatment program

on Thursday night.

They had this stupid group that would make all this noise

while we're trying to do counseling therapy.

And there was this group.

And they would make all kinds of noise.

And I would hear laughter and all this crap.

And they'd go, hey, you got to go to that meeting.

I don't need to go to that meeting.

You need to go to that meeting.

Everybody needs to go to meetings, Tom.

You need to go to meetings.

And so I go to that stupid meeting.

And then they go, hey, you need to get a chip.

And so I'm, Tom, alcoholic addict, sex maniac,

marijuana [INAUDIBLE]

all of the above.

Shut up, sit down, and listen.

Oh, shit, so I sit down and they go, you need to get a sponsor.

And I look at this guy next to me.

And this guy, thank God, thank God

that this guy couldn't sponsor because it was Gonzo.

I don't know if you guys know, but people know Gonzo.

And I go, can you sponsor me?

And he goes, I don't know.

I need to ask my sponsor.

And his sponsor said no.

And so I was like, thank God.

And so I picked this puny looking little white dude

that I could manipulate, this guy named Wayne Beck.

And I hooded his guts.

And that guy, he says, you want to talk about sponsorship?

He says, you give me a call tomorrow at exactly this time.

And if you don't call me, then I'll know what your answer is.

And so I was like, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,

hold on a second.

And so I went on my merry way.

And I started-- something told me to get this knucklehead

a call, right?

And when I called him, he goes, if you want me to sponsor you,

you got to do this, that, this, and the other.

He says, your problems are my problem.

You call me before you take any action.

I will guide you through the steps.

I will guide you through the big books.

And you don't have anything to worry about,

as long as you call me.

If you're five minutes late, don't bother

calling because I'm busy.

And so right away, fingers in the chest,

I'm thinking, who the hell did this guy think he is?

And so, again, I'm still not an alcoholic.

I start going to these meetings.

I start meeting these crazy people.

I don't fit in because I'm Tom alcoholic addict, blah, blah,

blah, blah, blah, blah.

And I'm sitting at the meeting one time.

We had a break.

And this guy goes, hey, Tom, all you

need to do to fit in here is just be an alcoholic, man.

Everything else will take care of itself

if you take care of your alcoholism.

Oh, wow.

And I'm sitting at a meeting.

And normally, I would sit by this fire hydrant.

And I would lay down and go to sleep.

And there was this speaker that night.

And the speaker's name was Johnny Ackland,

I think his name was.

He was a Scottish aristocrat.

And he spoke with a heavy brew.

And I couldn't understand a stinking word

of what this jerk was saying, right?

And he goes, if you'll be alcoholic like me,

then do what I do.

And he starts talking.

I can't hear a damn thing of what he's saying.

And then he starts talking about his alcoholism.

And he starts talking about hearing things

that weren't there and seeing things that weren't there

and making love to his wife.

And she wasn't there.

And I go, oh, shit.

And I go, the secret is out.

And I started to cry.

And I identified, right?

At that moment, I became an alcoholic.

I go, if this guy's an alcoholic,

then that means I'm an alcoholic.

And I got scared.

And he gave me an answer.

He gave me a program of recovery.

He goes, do what I do.

And so at that point, I bought Alcoholics Anonymous,

the whole freaking package.

And I had to learn how to cry first.

I had to get those tears out and realize

that it was my grief and my pain that brings us here.

But it's our recovery that keeps us here, right?

That's what I've learned.

Because I had to get all that pain out

in order to let the laughter and the music of the spirit

come in, right?

And so today, when you see me crying, it's tears of joy,

baby, because I can't believe what Alcoholics Anonymous

has done for this guy.

You know, I met these guys.

And then I was still a mess.

I'm going to this meeting.

And I see this fine Black girl from New York, her attitude

sassy.

And I was attracted to her.

And then the next week, she comes in.

And she introduces me to her husband, David Figueroa.

And we've been inseparable since that day.

The miracle is that we grew up in the same neighborhood

in New York, blocks away from each other,

and met in Alcoholics Anonymous.

And we've been inseparable.

This is my brother that I would take a bullet for this guy.

I hope it doesn't have to happen tonight.

[INAUDIBLE]

I didn't bring my back up with me, man.

But anyway, my daughter was born around my six-month anniversary

of Alcoholics Anonymous.

And I didn't go to the meeting because I was at the hospital.

And my daughter was born.

And I didn't know what to do that day.

I thought I was going to drink.

I swear I was scared.

The same feelings came up.

And I walked down the aisle.

And up through the door pops this guy

with two cups of coffee from McDonald's.

And he goes, Tom, I thought you might be thirsty.

And he saved my life that day.

And there's many other days that this man

has been there in my life.

And again, we don't have to talk on the phone

to know that we're brothers.

And so if you have a hard time in Alcoholics Anonymous

and you can't find a sponsor, get a friend.

Get a best friend.

And if you've got a good best friend,

he'll force you to get a sponsor, right?

And so there was a couple of us that ran around.

Because we were crazy back then.

And they told us the men stick with the men

and the women stick with the women.

And so we founded this group.

It was called the Winners, right?

And so this guy Renato, he was from

some freaking foreign country.

He couldn't say winners.

He said the wieners, the wieners, the wieners.

And so we became the wieners.

And we started to stick around and stay around.

And we started to go on this merry way of recovery, man.

And I'm telling you, from then to now, right?

Today I stand here sober since February 22nd of 1988.

Not by anything great that I've done.

Mainly by the people I surround myself with, right?

I had to be willing to do what I was told to do.

But I've managed to stick myself around in the middle

of some really great people in my life.

And today, how much time do I got, Dick?

- That's four and a half.

- Thank you very much.

Today, two and a half years ago,

I working with that same company.

I took a job in Nevada, in Las Vegas.

And I left everything behind and I moved to Las Vegas.

And I hated the management over there

where I was working at.

And it was a big drinking environment.

But I loved what I was doing, man.

I had, at this time I got 30 something years

with Lockheed Martin.

I hold a top secret clearance with extra stuff attached

to it that only the president has more higher clearance

than I did, right?

I had a position of trust only by the graces of alcoholics.

And now my sponsor told me,

you will make living amends to your job.

You're gonna be the first one in there.

You're gonna plug the coffee in.

You're gonna be responsible for giving them eight hours pay

for eight hours, eight hours of work for eight hours pay.

And I practiced that.

And I really was responsible at work, right?

And so I moved to Las Vegas

and then there's another guy back there, Pete.

He got tired of hearing me complaining

about the misery of my job.

And he goes, Tom, if you're working for Lockheed

at 62 years old, I'm gonna fine you

and put a bullet in your head.

(laughing)

And so I retired one day before my 62.

And I drove out the gate and I got my phone

and I called Pete, hey, Pete, what are you doing?

He goes, I'm in New York trying to get that contract going.

I go, Pete, cancel the contract, man.

I retired, I retired.

And he goes, you're lucky, Tom.

He goes, I love you like a brother,

but I shoot you in the heart, Pete.

Nobody messes with Pete Falcone from Brooklyn.

And so this guy, Pete, I've been with him since day one.

And he came into our group and then the bottom to us,

we were serving coffee in the back.

And he goes, hey, are you Puerto Rican?

Yeah, you're Puerto Rican.

And David goes, here, let me give you my card.

Hold my wallet.

And he goes, how much time you got?

He goes, I got three days.

David goes, get in my wallet back.

And this guy, this guy, he struggled.

He came in here, he had a pickup truck

that only opened on one side, right?

And the window didn't go down.

He had bills, he had people chasing after his life.

And somebody said, hey, Pete, can you make coffee?

Yeah, I can fill in for coffee.

All of a sudden, he got handed the coffee commitment.

And me and Pete, I would be there for serving coffee.

I'd be there early.

And me and Pete created a bond that is amazing.

My family, when I talk about my family,

I'm talking about Pete's family.

And Pete has allowed me to make amends.

And part of my amends was to my grandmother

when she passed away in New York.

And I went back, I was so drunk and loaded during the whole time

that I was so resentful and so guilty over that.

My sponsor says you will make a living amends to your grandma.

And whenever somebody shares about having a loss,

you be there for that person.

And you support that person.

Pete came up to me one day.

He goes, hey, my cousin's husband already died.

And I haven't been with my family in years.

I'm estranged.

I go, hey, I got an idea, man.

I go, you're going to go to the funeral.

No, I can't go out there.

You're going to go to the funeral.

How am I going to go?

I'm going to go with you, bro.

And he allowed me to walk him through that

and to see the miracle that occurred that night.

Not in my life, man, but in somebody else's life.

When that dude walked in, it was engulfed by love of his family

like nothing ever happened.

His aunt, when he introduced me to his aunt,

they started taking my number down

like I was Jesus Christ the Savior.

And they were thanking me for bringing

Ju-Ju back into the family.

And they go, if you ever can't find him, can we call you?

I go, yeah, you can call me.

And my man is a part of his family.

It makes me proud.

There's another guy here.

Where's Hector at?

Is he here?

There's another-- my man back there.

That's a kid that I wouldn't bet a wooden nickel on his ass.

And my man is a shining example of this program

and this recovery so much that I speak

about him at my Men's Stag on Saturday morning in Vegas.

When I talk to this, there's a guy in there, Tristan,

that is really suffering with recovery

because he thinks his case is different, and he struggles.

He's got tattoos all over his head and his neck,

and he thinks that he's not worthy and he's less than.

And I just-- when I look at him and I see my man Hector,

and I remember how Hector came into this program, he was--

you would look at this guy and run away, right?

My man has turned his life around in a way

that I could never imagine, where

he is a shining example of recovery in his family, right?

And those are the gifts that I get to see today.

Now, I also have a few people that I've

lost in recovery, right?

I always think about my man Reggie,

who was really a great AA guy, but he had a weakness,

and he followed it, and he passed away,

and he never got the deal, right?

I think about our brother Michael Holland,

who we lost last year, a great guy with a great personality.

When I was newly sober, I was working in a treatment program,

and there was this guy, Dean Barnes,

that would come in off the streets,

and he would get some time, and he would clean up,

and he was the shining example.

The one thing he couldn't do, he wouldn't hold hands

during the Lord's Prayer.

I'd see him in meetings in town, and he wouldn't hold hands.

And then one day, I got called in.

They go, hey, Dean Barnes is in the emergency room town.

Go get him.

And I went and I got him, and it was too late.

He bled out on the freaking floor,

and he never made it, right?

And so you have to be willing to do whatever you're told,

whatever it is, right?

I have my best friend in the whole world.

Sorry, David.

Sorry, Bruce.

Sorry, Pete.

My best friend Ron Coleman, man.

That guy taught me how to live in sobriety every day.

I met him through a resentment, right?

I had a meeting in Palmdale, and I was secretary of the meeting,

and I brought this guy in, that famous speaker that

would sing the Lord's Prayer.

And I had this guy say I was really proud.

Yeah, I did a damn good job.

Yeah, this guy.

I bought this guy.

And Ron come up to me.

He goes, you know that violation of seditions?

You know, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

How the hell does this guy think he is?

I go to my sponsor at the time, Whitey.

I go, who in the hell does this guy--

he goes, you see that guy?

Whatever he's doing, you better be doing.

And so I go, son of a bitch.

And so me and Ron, we developed a friendship that was like--

he was my brother.

He was welcome to come into my house any time, day or night.

And that guy, we and him put so many miles on the road,

and then he had a bump in his throat.

And he got sick.

And it turned into cancer and it spread

throughout his whole body.

And I would go visit him in the hospital.

And I say, Ron, how's it going?

He goes, I'm fine, Tom.

How are you doing?

You're the one that looks--

he goes, I'm fine.

I'm good with God.

And then it got so bad he couldn't speak no more.

And he would write me a little note.

And he was being fed through a tube.

And he goes, can you get some Popeye's chicken

and throw it in that thing for me, you know?

And we were going to a soccer tournament.

And I had to go to a hospital.

And we said goodbyes, right?

And I was in a soccer tournament in San Diego

when my sponsor buzzed me and called me

and said Ron died in his arms.

And I missed that guy, right?

But Ron was a dynamic speaker.

And Ron always ended his talk with a special way.

And I said, hey, Ron, can I use your line?

And he goes, as long as you give me credit for it.

And so I'm going to end by this.

Ron used to always say, I used to get up in the morning

and say, good God, it's morning.

And today when I get up, I say, good morning, God.

Thank you for letting me share.

[INAUDIBLE]