My Christmas Story.
Just over 37 years ago, the first time I kicked. It wasn’t the last time, Yet it was the one time it happened at Christmas.
Many years ago, (1986), I was destitute, homeless, and strung-out. I finely decided to go to a medical detox and get clean. I camped out in front of the detox center for 3 days before they had a bed open.
Once inside, I found about 30 people just like me, both male and female, sick and used up by life. Over that 40 days or so, I bonded hard with about 6 or 7 junkies with nothing left to lose. It was December, and we all dreaded Christmas coming for it brought memories both very painful, and too joyful to be deserved.
That year a (rather famous) rock band had contacted the detox center and unbeknown to us, wanted to give us a private show as a surprise, and encouragement. Well, they pulled it off. On the evening of the 25 December we all went down to the dinning hall for dinner, and it had been transformed. The band’s roadies had built a stage, and a sound system, and brought in chairs for all.
The band did a 60 minute set, and it was so moving, so wonderful, that everyone was crying a bit. But then as the show was ending up the roadies brought in hand wrapped gifts with our names on them. One for each and everyone of us. This was so startling, The idea that anyone cared about us. Knew our names, thought that we were real and deserving. It blew us all away. The gifts… They were just the right stuff. Socks, warm clothing (in the right sizes), tobacco, and all the little things you miss when homeless. Tooth brushes, personal hygiene products, street survival gear. The band then hung around and talked to each of us, laughing and telling stories. It was a magical night.
I stayed clean and sober. On the one year anniversary of that night. I was invited to come back to the detox center. I re-united with about 8 of us that had made it through hell with each other. I was doing much better, I had a little job, an old beat up car, and an apartment of my own. We all talked about that Christmas a year ago and how much it meant to us.
I was surprised when one of the women I had sat a cried with that during that concert, got up on stage, to receive a one year coin, and spoke eloquently about being seen and heard as a homeless junkie, and then she gave me the keys to a much nicer car, saying that she had to pass it on.
When it came time for me to get on stage. I (now with 2 cars) gave my old car keys to another woman, who had gone through that Christmas night. I knew she did not have transportation, and was struggling a bit.
This is how we survive, mutual aid.
This was in Los Angeles, where cars are a necessity of life.
The band will remain nameless, per their wishes. (but I am sure you would recognize them)
Just over 37 years ago, the first time I kicked. It wasn’t the last time, Yet it was the one time it happened at Christmas.
Many years ago, (1986), I was destitute, homeless, and strung-out. I finely decided to go to a medical detox and get clean. I camped out in front of the detox center for 3 days before they had a bed open.
Once inside, I found about 30 people just like me, both male and female, sick and used up by life. Over that 40 days or so, I bonded hard with about 6 or 7 junkies with nothing left to lose. It was December, and we all dreaded Christmas coming for it brought memories both very painful, and too joyful to be deserved.
That year a (rather famous) rock band had contacted the detox center and unbeknown to us, wanted to give us a private show as a surprise, and encouragement. Well, they pulled it off. On the evening of the 25 December we all went down to the dinning hall for dinner, and it had been transformed. The band’s roadies had built a stage, and a sound system, and brought in chairs for all.
The band did a 60 minute set, and it was so moving, so wonderful, that everyone was crying a bit. But then as the show was ending up the roadies brought in hand wrapped gifts with our names on them. One for each and everyone of us. This was so startling, The idea that anyone cared about us. Knew our names, thought that we were real and deserving. It blew us all away. The gifts… They were just the right stuff. Socks, warm clothing (in the right sizes), tobacco, and all the little things you miss when homeless. Tooth brushes, personal hygiene products, street survival gear. The band then hung around and talked to each of us, laughing and telling stories. It was a magical night.
I stayed clean and sober. On the one year anniversary of that night. I was invited to come back to the detox center. I re-united with about 8 of us that had made it through hell with each other. I was doing much better, I had a little job, an old beat up car, and an apartment of my own. We all talked about that Christmas a year ago and how much it meant to us.
I was surprised when one of the women I had sat a cried with that during that concert, got up on stage, to receive a one year coin, and spoke eloquently about being seen and heard as a homeless junkie, and then she gave me the keys to a much nicer car, saying that she had to pass it on.
When it came time for me to get on stage. I (now with 2 cars) gave my old car keys to another woman, who had gone through that Christmas night. I knew she did not have transportation, and was struggling a bit.
This is how we survive, mutual aid.
This was in Los Angeles, where cars are a necessity of life.
The band will remain nameless, per their wishes. (but I am sure you would recognize them)