GET OFF THE FLOOR JACK
Today, continuing on with my little autobiography is proving very difficult. This part of the story is one of the absolute lowest points of my life. Revealing the detailed collapse of my, here- to- fore, rising star brings back the memory of those very painful feelings of fear, guilt, and shame that riddled me every day I worked in that slaughterhouse. The emotional load on me felt enormous and the physical load felt like a two hundred pound monkey on my back as I dragged my body back and forth from home to work. After two weeks, I got a day off from work and I got as drunk as I could get. The last thing I remembered that night was the kindness of the alcohol as I slipped into oblivion. That was a habit that stayed with me for another fifteen years.
I have to be honest here, I would not be admitting how foolish and pitiful I was, down and out there in Plant City, Florida if I wasn’t squarely resting in the arms and grace of Christ today.
Now, forty-five years later, I feel very blessed to have this story to tell. Remembering now how I egotistically felt so special walking into the Washington Redskin’s training camp; flaunting my God given gifts like they were all mine like they were the result of my individual soul efforts. Today, before I even get out of bed I acknowledge that I am nothing, powerless, that God furnishes every breath I take, every beat of my heart. This is the gift of life which I have no idea how it actually happens. It’s a gift. I have nothing to do with it. God created everything, animates everything and maintains everything. I have and never have had anything to do with it. It’s a gift.
There, I feel a lot better; leveling the field a little bit for myself back then; I was a survivor, not a loser. My father hardly looked at me and my mother was never critical, but measured. I felt like they were just watching to see if I would get up off the floor or keep falling. I had been the family hero, and now, I’m sure they didn’t know what to say. . . . . .However, thank God, my friend Keith knew what to say.
Jack