Sometimes it's the addict themselves. Other times it's their family or friends. And sometimes these exchanges go on for months.
And once in a while I'll be at one of the properties and meet them. They'll introduce themselves and thank me for guiding them to our doors.
It happened again the other day while I was at a house meeting. A very nice person, accompanied by a sponsor, reminded me of our emails. And after hearing a few details I remembered the person.
Most often though, I never know if they made it. Because if they do arrive they're usually at an outlying house and we never run into each other.
Sometimes I wonder what happened to those who have written me. I recall a man wanting help who was living in his truck in a rest area; I think it was in Oregon or Washington.
He seemed helpless and depressed. He'd kind of given up. He said he was drinking a lot.
Each time I'd give him a suggestion of how to get here, he'd tell me why it wouldn't work. I told him to hitchhike, but he didn't like that idea. I told him to try churches or Traveler's Aid, but he didn't know what to say. I told him to walk and he didn't like that idea either.
I wanted to give up on him because he kept making excuses. The only reason I didn't is because he kept writing, which meant that some part of him wanted help.
You never know. Maybe one day he'll walk up to me at one of our house meetings and tell me how he got here. But probably not.
Click here to email John
