This article tells the story of the alcoholic . It is one not many like to hear .

Between 1974 and 1990 I discovered a common factor with where I was at .
I seemed to be meeting many people who drank a lot . Most of these people were strangers to me . A few of them ended up to be friends . These people have now passed away .
During my period of confrontation head on with alcoholics I felt many things . If there was one emotion I felt more than any other it was anger .
I was angry with being badly treated and used and abused .
The alcoholic is usually selfish and aggressive .
However I must admit they are not all tarred with the same brush .
Many alcoholics end up in shelters and institutions with no one .
All they care for is the drink .
I suppose when we dig deeper into and situation we uncover dirt .
It seemed that everywhere I went I continued to meet alcoholics and not of my own choice . Time after time I was on my knees before God and asking in prayer Lord why do I keep on meeting these people and the answer came to me like a bolt out of the blue , and that word was ,
Because I want you to write about them .
Then everything seemed to fit into place .

From that day on I questioned no more and threw myself upon the mercy of the street . When you are living as a Ghetto man you meet all kinds of people who in turn lead you to others .
It’s a sad picture but a real one .

Alcoholism is a global problem and with years of research I discovered many people affected by this disease . I have lived in many places around the world and shared the same dwelling place as alcoholics .
From the gutter to the street .
From the street to the bed sit flat .
From different homes hospitals and shelters .
In every place I roamed the story remained the same .
The victims of alcoholism and their victims . The worst kind of victim is the victim of a victim . There is no excuse for this . There is only anger and frustration . I needed to see some resolution for the victim of victims but found none .

The story of the alcoholic is one that the world doesn’t want to hear .
It is too hard as issue to cope with . It is hard to tell but I believe it is an important story of life .
Alcoholics are both men and women .
They are young and old , black skinned and and white .
Red skinned and yellow . At the time I met the network of alcoholics most of them were slowly dying.
Even for the reformed alcoholic the damage has been done.
Alcoholics by nature or habit they have lost their lives to the drink.
In and out of hospitals and prisons.
Back and forward they travel between refuge centers and the gutters.
They are oppressed depressed and persecuted. They hated by all who cannot understand why they have become a drunk. Most people fail to see behind the cold walls of anger that the Steamboat erects because fragility and insecurity lie there. You will always know a drinker when they come into town form they are always on their own with a bottle in their hand and a clenched fist in the other. They have scars that need to be heard and seen .
Their attitude is a mixture of self-pity and guilt but somehow the alcoholice has a heart if you can only look for it. When you find it you can see the need for a mission of the addicted heart .
They are an accident of their ancestors.
They are the benefactors of a disease and also the recipients.
Not of their own choice but in a lot of cases the bottle has chosen them.
There are also alcoholics who choose to lead the life of a drunk.
For whatever reason they have self inflicted themselves.
Professional people who live the life of a secret drinker and the social drinkers who fool themselves by drowning their sorrows sometimes end up drowning themselves in their own ocean of regret.
Many alcoholics I have known have had a family to support them.
Many alcoholics end up leaving their families for the drink.
I hope you can try to see behind their lies and forgive them for becoming
What drink has made them .
I understand that the real truth of their life is one that I have only touched but if the account for wrong doing is in Gods hands surely Christ wept for these
Victims of an addicted heart .

THE END