Forty years ago on this day, I had my last drink to date.
I was 21 years old, about to turn 22. I had been drinking since I was 16, much of that time actually (literally) in the rooms of AA. I was about to graduate college, late, with a terrible GPA and absolutely no hope.
That night (from what I remember) I drank as usual, drunk dialed as usual, but then got in my car and drove to my grandmother’s house, drunk, on the Long Island Expressway. I kept her up all night with drunken ravings about how awful my life was from before I was born until way into the future. I drove home in the sunlight of May 1, 1984 and I haven’t taken a drink or a drug since then.
Amazing grace!
Don't Drink and Don't Die 