My name is Kenny. I was born in 1957 in a small town outside of Seattle. I was born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. But in '57 they had no idea what that was. My mother was married 3 times and I'm the youngest of 13 children. By the time I was born both my parents were severe alcoholics. I was 3 months premature and weighed 3 pounds. I lived my first 3 months in an incubator and I wasn't expected to live. I couldn't eat anything and keep it down. From what I was told one of the nurses in the ICU had raised her kids on goats milk, so she brought some to work one day and tried that. You see, they had given up on being able to save me; the doctors told my parents to pray for a miracle.

I was able to keep the goats milk down and after 2 months my mother was able to hold me for the first time. I was so anemic that I couldn't be taken out of the incubator. My mother didn't stop drinking when she was pregnant with me. My dad had beaten her up several times during the pregnancy as well. I can still hear my father saying that he should have sold that goat when he had the chance. He blamed me for us being so far in debt because of all the medical bills. So he used that as an excuse for drinking an beating my mother all the time.

They would take me and my two brothers to the tavern with them and tell us to stay in the car and don't let anyone see us. I didn't know that it was against the law to do that. Well, a King County Sheriff drove by and happened to see the three of us kids in the car. I remember he pulled up next to our car and was talking on the radio, then two more showed up, also a man & a woman. Then the Sheriffs went in and came back out with mom and dad. They asked if we were their kids, and mom said "yes". They handcuffed them and arrested them. I can remember how my dad looked at me through the windshield as they were putting the cuffs on him. A look of pure hate. That was the last time a saw them for over 3 years.

We were separated and put in different foster homes all over the state. I was put with a family in Seattle, and they were Christians. I remember going to Church for the first time and I remember that the holidays were so much fun, and the love in that family!

Then 3 1/2 years later I remember having to go home and not wanting to. Well, in the mean time mom and dad had moved to Yakima. They hadn't kept in touch with any of us kids, not even to call and tell me happy birthday.

Things were ok for a while, but after a month or so the drinking and the fighting and the beatings to my mother started all over again, with the exception of one thing; us kids were no longer allowed to get in the car. Instead, dad would give us money and tell us to get lost for a few hours. We learned the hard way not to get in the car if we got tired or if it got cold. We would get beat, hard. So instead, we would walk back and forth in front of the tavern until one of them would come out and give us some more money to get some food, then finally around 10:30 or 11:00 we would head home, on on the way dad would start an argument. And when we would get home, that's when the beatings would start. If any of us kids tried to stop him from beating her, we would get beaten too. But that didn't stop me from trying to help her.

Sometimes it was me that had the black eyes that were swollen shut. So all of you women here that is having that happen to them: GET OUT - RUN, please. In the middle 60's when we went through it the women had two choices: leave with no place to go and no help or hope, or stay. Back then, domestic violence was considered a social problem and the way it was dealt with was to look the other way, then it didn't exist, and that's how alcoholism was also dealt with. No one knew it was a disease.

That's how I grew up until I turned 17. Like both of my brothers found out, there was a way to prove yourself a man: all one of my parents had to do was to sign a paper. Not long after that I was landing on the other side of the world in a place called Saigon. And it wasn't long until I knew that if there was a God, He hated me. I had broken one of the 10 commandments: the one that said "you shall not kill". I believed then and until 3 years ago that if God did exist, He had turned His back on me, and that there were no combat vets in Heaven.

After I came home, my life was a blur and i don't remember much for about 5 years. That's when I met my wife. We fell in love almost immediately, and I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing whatever I needed to do to make her happy. That's when I learned the true meaning of love, which to me is when someone else's needs, wants, hopes, wishes, dreams and desires become more important than you own. But before you can love someone else, first you have to love yourself. And because of thinking that God hated me, I didn't;t know how to do that.

So what I did was to wrap myself around the love that my wife had for me. By knowing what it felt like to have someone love me wa enough to make me go on. But the drinking and drugging went on, and my wife was right by my side though it all. But I never raised a hand in anger or otherwise to her. I couldn't; even the slightest confrontation we would have scared me to death. I would shut down and leave. My wife never knew why for a long time. Then one night she came home drunk and we got into an argument. I can't remember what lead up to it, but she slapped me, and before I had a chance to think, I slapped her back. At that moment, it hit me what I had just done. I had become my father. I remember falling to my knees and begging her to forgive. me.

Well, she couldn't figure out what the big deal was! See, she had been raised with 6 brothers and to her it was no big deal. I had never told her what my childhood was like, so, sitting on the kitchen floor, crying my eyes out, I told her what my father did to mom and us kids.

I found out that the kids of a domestic violence situation go either one of two ways; they either become a spouse beater, like my older brother grew up to be, or you grow up a very passive person like I did. I don't handle confrontations very well with the opposite sex. I shut down and just agree. I don't stick up for myself very well. My brothers always told me that I am too nice and that was going to be my downfall, that I will be taken advantage of all my life.

My wife and I were married for 14 years and we had 3 children. Everything was great! We would go camping or fishing together but I couldn't stop drinking. During this time I had re-enlisted in the Air Force. But I didn't get the promotions that I had coming to me so I transferred to the Army. I became a tank mechanic. I was still going to prove to myself that I was a man.

Well, my drinking steadily got worse, so in 1987 my wife told me that if I didn't get help, she was going to file for a divorce. So I checked into Sundown Ranch. While I was there I wrote a poem that describes my life. After I got home things were ok for awhile, until a friend brought some crack cocaine over, and so my wife and I tried it.

Well, that triggered a 3 year crack addiction for both of us, and during that time I had been shot over a drug deal that went bad. And then a Mexican stabbed me during a pool game. I have been pronounced dead twice, once on the operating table and once in an emergency room. It didn't take long for us to lose everything we had. We almost lost our kids until my sisters stepped in and took custody of them. It wasn't long after that that I hit bottom for the third time.

I asked my father to help. After I got married and had a family of my own, my mother told me that now that she knew I was going to be ok, it was time for her to leave him. She stayed in the marriage so us kids would have a home. After she left, I started taking care of my dad. By this time, he was in real bad shape. He had already had three heart attacks. And he had lung cancer. He had to carry nitroglycerin with him at all times. But even that wouldn't stop him from drinking. It was only a matter of time. I came clean with my dad and asked him for help so he took me to my sisters and that's how I got off crack, but I just traded it for the booze again. Two months later my father died of a massive coronary. We had his funeral three days later, and my birthday was the next day.

June is another hard time of the year for me. Another time of the year for me, as it is for others, is the holidays. You see, when I was married it was my job to put up all the Christmas lights and the tree. And when the kids got older they would help me. After my father died my wife took the kids and moved to Grand Coulee. I joined them there, but after 14 years of her watching me slowly kill myself, she filed for divorce and asked me to leave. We both still love each other, but too much damage had been done on both sides.

That was in late 1991. Shortly after that I fell at work and severely damaged my lower spine. I had tow surgeries that didn't help. It was then that I moved to Spokane, in 1993. That's when I took my first hit of heroin, the start of a 14 year addiction that lasted until 3 years ago, when I almost die of an abscess in my throat from shooting myself in the neck. I was less than 6 hours from dying. After a week in the hospital I went straight into detox, because if I didn't, I knew I would die if I continued any longer. That lead me to Sun Ray Court, which got me here to CBC!

As of today I have 3 years clean and sober, and it would never have been possible without this family. It's no bed of roses when you decide to let Jesus into your life! And it's not easy - I've had my share of valleys, as some of you know. I was engaged for awhile to a beautiful woman here at CBC, but things didn't work out between us. But we are very, very good friends and she know that I am there for her if she needs help with anything. In fact, she asked me to come over to her place and help put up Christmas lights; she didn't know how good that made me feel!

So that is how I became part of this family! They are always there for me, even when I don't want them to be. And if I don't show up for Church, my brothers and sisters are on the phone wanting to know if anything is wrong.

I have just started my second year of college with a GPA of 3.6 to 3.7. I also have been chosen to be on the competition team from school, and I am the team captain. We have our next competition next month to see if we get to go to the western regional competition. We are already the State champions!

I have come a long way in the last 3 years. From a $400 dollar a day heroin addict, to a college student, and I owe it all to the Lord and His family!

A SHINY NEW TOY

By Kenny

When I was young and full of life and joy
All life's importance was a shiny new toy

But soon started the fights, the cruel world's he was swearing
I never understood the black eyes my mother was wearing

But he would reassure us, "don't worry....don't fear"
then it started all over when he opened a beer

He yelled and screamed as he looked in my eye
"Your 'e just a big sissy, and Big boys don't cry"

I grew up a loner, bitterly thinking
God dealt out our manhood only in drinking

Then I met a young woman full of joy and alive
Her love and her trust: for this I would strive

But soon started the night's she lay alone in our bed
Because I was out drinking with my best buddy, Fred

Then I'd stumble on home and fall down to my knees
and pray to God up above, I could not understand this disease!

But then I'd do it all over with a laugh and a grin
Thinking to myself 'What the hell, it's only the rent money' - again!

Then came the day she couldn't take it any more
And told me to leave and pointed to the front door!

Now, I thank the good Lord for my DWI
For I look at my life through a sober man's eyes.

I want to thank the staff and crew at the Sundown M Ranch
For I feel God has given me another chance

Now to my beautiful, two girls, and my son
I pray forgiveness some day for the horrible things I have done

For I need their love, support and guidance to keep sobriety's joy
So my son will know a different kind of importance of
A SHINY NEW TOY!