Soon it will be 27 years since I first set foot inside of Straight Inc.
At the time the group was housed in the Milton Roy Building. It was the morning of January 21st 1978. My father informed me that both he and my mom would be escorting me there that morning. He went on to explain that many parents resorted to lying about where thier children were going and that the staff has suggested that I sit between them on the way there. Yet, I sat calmly in the back seat of the car. I had an idea of what was about to happen but I wasnt real sure. I had heard stories told at Boca Ciega (my high school at the time), nothing in graphic detail, but the "straightlings" were pointed out and labled "Narc's". Even today, I hear the word Narc...and I must admit a shiver shoots up my spine.
My father expalined that I was going to be with others my own age, and maybe a lil older. He said almost all were there for drugs. However, he didnt think drugs were my real problem. In his own words he said "I think what you have is an attitude problem". Seemed earlier that week my parents had recieved a note from Pinellas County School System explaining that I had not been in school for over 90 days. Well, that was a half truth...I had not attended class in over 90 days, but I was at school by god. I spent most of my time on what was then called "the quad", a nice grassy area about 2 acres or so.
My time in "the quad" was spent hanging out in small groups smoking dope and hanging out. I had also become quite the frizzbe player, I mean after all...it was a physical activity. What made the big ass Whamo Frizzbe so appealing was when one of us got an idea to place a bowl in the middle and run a stem to the outside rim. Puff Puff Pass and the next person would do the same thing untill the bowl was spent. Then we would switch frizzbe's and continue our game.
Another thing I learned on "the quad" was there was a distinction between the cliques of people who came there. We had "Burn-Outs" and "Jocks" and the primary difference was the "Burn-Outs" smoked pot, and the "Jocks" drank. And, the "Jocks" were much more inclined to attend class so that they could continue to play sports...a concept I found difficult to fully understand and appreciate. But, there were some breaks in the integrety of the said cliques. I found out a few "Jocks" like to smoke pot, and as luck would have it, I loved to drink.
Well, you can see how 90 days would simply pass by without notice. These friendships took time to cultivate and in my own young grandiose mind I saw myself as a type of embassador. Yet, as these bonds began to cure, January 21st 1978 was fast approaching and I didnt see it coming.
Even as it was happening....I didnt see it coming. I had been to many family sessions, shrinks, psychologist the complete gamut of up to date theraphies. But I could not have begun to imagine what soon awaited me.
David Crock did my intake by himself. I assume the traditional group interuption by a staff member took place by asking if anyone knew me...apparently my non-descript manner left no large impression on anyone...I thought it a plus. But it did not matter, Dave Crock and I continued to battle wits for several hours....he wore Aramis....to this day I gag when I catch even so much as a scent of a man wearing Aramis.
My verbal battle of wit apparently failed with Dave Crock (such an apropriate name for this individual) He announced that he would be introducing me to the group.
Cool, I was up for an introduction, I liked meeting people. In the mean time he apparently
summoned Doug Hemminger and we were off to the group. I had heard the singing and just didnt know what to think about that. Suddenly we cut right and entered the mens bathroom and I was told to strip. STRIP?
Not knowing how to respond, I replied "WHY?"
It was explained that it was policy for someone to have a strip search prior to entering ther group. I said "That sounds like a fucked up policy" and made a move for the door. Here is where Doug Hemminger's help came in...He simply stood infront of the door. Without expression, and very much looking like an ape, or babboon of some sort, he told me to remove my cloths. I
glanced back at Dave Crock and his mammoth blue eyes repeated the order, too which I complied.
As I stripped myself of my clothing, I began to connect the dots and fully began to appreciate what was now indeed happening. I experienced a plethora of emotions....anger, rage, betrayal etc.....And all I could say while I put back on my cloths and looked at Doug Hemminger and said "This is really gonna suck aint it?" He didnt even so much as crack a smile, and I
could see in his lifeless eyes that yes indeed, this was really gonna suck. I also learned at that moment, Doug had no sense of humor....zero.
I had felt prepaird to meet this "group", but after the humiliation of a cavity check, I was um.....less than enthused in doing so.
I remember coming up from behind the group and who ever was speaking at the time graciously prattled on & on, it was at this point I think I had a "white-out" I simply dont remember that introduction and being placed on front row. What I do remember, snapping me out of the chasim of despair was hearing "WE LOVE YOU DAVE". I thought to myself, "Thats another line of shit...They hate me probably as much as I hate them." I didnt really realize the truth in that thought untill much latter.
More to come.....when I feel like it
