THE TIME was June 1972.
My world was closing in on me. I was
grasping to hang on to life, but I
didn’t know why. I was emotionally,
mentally and spiritually bankrupt. I
contemplated murder, but ruled that out
as I would probably get caught. I then
contemplated suicide, and after some
thinking ruled that out as I might be
missing something really beautiful that
life had to offer.
You see, I had become an alcoholic—me,
the perfect mother, wife, and hostess.
At least, I had tried to be all
these things, but I couldn’t, so I
drank. My husband Dick had sought help
for me through Alanon in February of
1971. At their instruction he had ceased
to talk to me or take me anywhere. He
was constantly gone. I felt as though I
had been abandoned. We had five children
who were left to grow up on their own as
I certainly was in no condition to be of
any help to them.
From the time Dick went into Alanon, I
became very resentful of AA and Alanon
and blamed them for what had happened to
my family. I wanted to get sober, but I
didn’t want to go to the program. I
thought there must be some other way, so
I started seeking answers to my problems
by reading any book I could get my hands
on, from self-help to the occult to the
Bible to some of the well-known
philosophers. I liked what I read, but
that was all it was—interesting reading.
I took no action on any knowledge that I
acquired from these writings.
Finally, on June 26, 1972, I reluctantly
went to an AA meeting with an uncle. I
thought just going would get everyone
off my back, but it didn’t and I didn’t
A short time after I had begun attending
AA, Dick called to read some stories
from a book he had found at a local
bookstore. It was the Urantia Book.
Everything he read to me rang true. He
finally brought the book home. When I
saw the size of it, I thought I could
never wade through such a monstrous
thing and urged him to audiotape it so I
could listen to it while doing my wifely
and motherly chores.
He started taping, and I listened to the
tapes just as fast as he could tape
them. When he had finished I felt
confident that I could tackle reading
it, so I went out and bought myself a
book. For the next few years, it was
difficult to get my head out of it. I
never left the house without it and many
times I sat in a coffee shop after an AA
meeting until the wee hours of the
morning, reading until Dick picked me
up. The Urantia Book became my text, and
the Twelve Steps became my
tools. I took my last and final drink on
October 5, 1972.
I have been studying the contents of the
book ever since. I owe my life to my
God, the Urantia Book, and the AA way of
life. I shall be eternally grateful for
all that has happened to me, for without
those experiences I would not be where I
am today, and the chances are very good
that I would never have found what I had
been unconsciously seeking all my life.