13 years ago…

In A.A. we protect anonymity. Not simply because we’re scared of the media, but if we fall, (and we do) it doesn’t reflect badly on A.A. as a whole. So in the spirit of that sentiment, I am going to refrain from mentioning the “Company” name which employed me 13 years ago. 1993. October 4th. One month to the day after my 27th birthday.
My sobriety date was September 12th, 1990. That will become relevant later on. So keep it in mind as I proceed. Anyway…
October 4th, 1993. I had recently moved to Jacksonville on the coattails of a relationship with a more significant title and income. My prior occupations had included everything from nanny to waitress to gas-jockey. None ever lasted more than a year. My “attitude” always got me escorted out of the building, or had forced me to leave before security arrived. I began working at an import store a mile from the new house. I was not big on driving more than a few miles from my safety zone. The pay was, I think, $4.25 per hour. Wow. As it happened, my mother, who was then residing in Minnesota, told me that the place of her employ; the “Company,” had a store in St. Augustine and her manager knew the manager there. He was hiring. Go for it, she said. She, after all, was happy with her job.
So call I did.
Someone asked me recently if I believed in fate. Sometimes I do. And this is one of those times…hear me now.

I drove the wretched 45 miles to St. Augustine, every mile that passed I said to myself; “this is too far, this is just too far.” I found my way after an hour. Went in and met a man who on that day was beginning his journey of changing my life. I didn’t know it then. I spent two hours there for my interview. I was enthralled and engaged by this man who so obviously was in love with the “Company.”
I left finally. Called my Mum when I got home and told her that I would politely decline any offering of a job for the simple fact that it was just too damn far to drive! She was disappointed. I was relieved to be back at home. I suffered a bit then, from agoraphobia.
The next day, after my 4hr shift at the import shop, there was a message. “Hi, Dee. This is so-and-so, I’d like to welcome you aboard.” Crap. Now what do I do? I’m sort of intimidated by his voice. Almost commanding me, in a sense. I gave notice and began working at the “Company.”
I was hired as a part-time sales associate at $4.75 an hour. No real retail experience at all. But start, I did. The first few months were harrowing. Getting a compliment or pat on the back from this man was like pulling teeth. Went home in tears more times than I care to remember. I wanted so badly to make him proud. I’d recently lost a father-figure type. The emptiness he left behind was still aching and paining me. More time passed. Got to oust the step daughter from her 4th key slot. Then 3rd. All that time I am filled with fear and self-doubt about my capacity to do the job. Stick it out. Stay the course. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. The shoe dropped, allright. The relationship ended. Now the only thing I had in the way of longevity was my sobriety. And a whole year invested in the “Company.”
A year. Hadn’t been escorted out or forced to quit because of my “attitude.”
Miracle.
The assistant manager took a position South. Up I moved. I learned, through strong guidance and leadership, how to act like a leader. He taught me the things he said he couldn’t teach me. Self-confidence, integrity and justice. The pats came. The kudos came. The adoration for a man who believed in me came.
Then, he left. It was January, 1998. Our annual staff Christmas party at his house. I’d been there dozens of times. Thanksgiving, Easter. This party, however, was different. After a jovial pot-luck dinner and secret santa gift giving, this man read a letter. He stood in the living room and cleared his throat. He read; “To whom it may concern, I am officially presenting you with my two weeks notice of resignation. I feel the time has come for me to retire. I have enjoyed the past 8 years with the “Company” but the time has come to move into another phase of my life. I would like to make one recommendation before departing. I would like to recommend that Dee Fortin be promoted to store manager to replace me. There is no one more deserving or worthy of this position that I can think of. She has earned it. Her attitude towards her job is exemplary.” Attitude. There’s that word again.
I ran. Outside, to sob. Not another leaving person could I bear. My heart was breaking. Again. He touched my chin just then. He made me look at him and he told me that the time had come. That we both knew that this crossroad was upon us. That he loved me. Five years ago, I thought he hated me. And now…
The staff jockeyed for their own stake in the future, but to me, it was inconceivable. I just couldn’t make it without him in my corner. Faith in Dee, still waned. He severed that lifeline with the precision of a surgeon.
Knowing at what exact moments to return, or not, my desperate calls for advice. Then he moved away. I stumbled, tripped and fell so often in those beginning days. My very first day as manager, I had a customer berate me in front of the whole staff. She’s appalled at what my staff must surely have to endure at the hands of such an incompetent boob.
Many more days and years taught me those lessons that my dear mentor said he couldn’t teach me. He was right.
Six years had now passed. In the same company. An opportunity arose. A chance to take my experience on the road. To build a new store. To set that example. Off I went. Eager-beaver like. Impress, I did. Those boys were amazed at the stamina of a “girl.” Kept up with them not only on the physical plane, but the verbal sparring one as well. They liked my “attitude.” Notice that word, but in a different light? I did.
I was asked to help again. That was in 2000.
Which also coincided with my 10 year A.A. birthday. I told you it would be relevant. 10 years sober, 7 years with the “Company.” All seems well…
…Until the personal side of life seeped in.
To be continued.

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