Back From The Brink

By Michael Harvey

After 20 years of addiction, including adrenalin addiction, living the life of a modern day pirate, with 23 arrests and 6 felony convictions, using most of the drugs available in the 70s, 80"s, and 90's,I found the Small Book and my life has been changed for the last 18 years!

You too can beat your demons. Let me show you how.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Harvey
• Release date: Dec 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311805140

Michael Harvey

Michael Harvey is the author of seven previous novels, including Brighton and The Chicago Way. He’s also a journalist and documentarian whose work has won multiple News & Documentary Emmys, two Primetime Emmy nominations, and an Academy Award nomination. Raised in Boston, he now lives in Chicago.

Book preview

BACK FROM THE BRINK

25 years of addiction, 23 arrests, 6 felony convictions.

How I overcame the addictions and how you can too.

Michael Harvey

Copyright © 2013 by Michael Harvey

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1………..Monster in My House

Chapter 2………..Escape

Chapter 3………..The Drug Years

Chapter 4………..Smuggling, It’s More Than A Job

Chapter 5………..Take The Money And Run

Chapter 6………..Sodas, Peanuts?

Chapter 7………..The Cuban-Canadian Connection

Chapter 8………...Canada

Chapter 9………...Murder!

Chapter 10……….More Bullshit

Chapter 11……….Recovery

DEDICATION

To the lost souls who are fighting the demons of addiction.

To those who cannot accept that they are Powerless

To those who can’t quite hand over their future to a Higher Power

To those who see an endless series of meetings as just another addiction.

To those, I offer HOPE!

Read on and see how I came Back from the Brink, and how

I found that I am not powerless but I am indeed more powerful than any addiction.

Hi, my name is Michael. I was a drug addict, alcoholic, sex addict, and adrenaline addict; pick one or all of them and probably several others, for over 30 years. Three divorces, three children from three wives. 23 arrests, 6 felony convictions and two prison stretches.

This is my story of how I got there and how I stepped back from the Brink. How the son of a nationally known fundamentalist preacher/singer, endured a childhood of physical abuse, became a convicted drug smuggler, and drug addict, overcame the addictions, and rejoined society.

This is a partial list of jobs I managed to lose while drinking and drugging.

JOBS

Car Sales, Tourist Attraction Manager, Water Treatment Equipment Sales, Collection Agency Service Sales, Managed a Private Detective Company, Co-owned a Hay and Grain Company, Supervisor at a Commercial Laundry, Captained Crew Boats for Oil Rigs, Phone Sales of Lights and Chemicals, Dive Boat Captain, Pot Smuggler, Precious Metals Phone Sales, Mechanics Helper at a Gas Station, Captain Marine Construction Barge, Phone Sales Morgan Silver Dollars, Three more Precious Metals Sales Jobs, Auto Warranty Phone Sales, On Line Hold Message Phone Sales, Oil Well Investment Phone Sales, Another Precious Metals Phone Sales, Investment Sales Specialized Mobile Radio, Car Kit Phone Sales, Viatical Settlement Investment Phone Sales, Bought and Operated a Gourmet Coffee Roasting Company, Water Massage Bed Phone Sales, Debt Settlement Phone Sales, Foreclosure Defense Phone Sales, Loan Modification Phone Sales, Yacht Sales, Boat Sales, Vacation Phone Sales, Computer Repair Phone Sales, Unsecured Loan Phone Sales, Student Loan Consolidation. Marine Electronic Sales Twice.

Chapter 1, The Monster in my house

Do you know what you are? He bellowed, his face inches from mine. Crud, that’s what you are.

Do you know what Crud is?

Crud is the scraping off the back side of a pair of balls, he yelled. Well, I knew I was in for it this time. I thought the name he had used for me was a bit much for a boy of ten or twelve, but, I wasn’t in a position to argue with him. Him, being my father. This was Dr. Edwin Bill Harvey. Nationally known Doctor of Theology, poet, and music man for some of the preeminent Christian Fundamentalist Evangelist preachers of the time. He worked with Dr. John R. Rice founding editor of the Sword of the Lord publications, Dr. Jack Hyles of Hammond Indiana, pastor of a huge Baptist church there, and Lester Roloff of Roloff Ministries in Corpus Christi, Texas, and many others. You can still find his book, 100 poems by Bill Harvey for sale on the internet.

My earliest memories are of playing in the sawdust on the ground under the tent that had been erected for one of the Revival Meetings that would be promoted every week in a different cow pasture. A preacher such as Joe Boyd or Lester Roloff would preach and my father would sing and lead the congregation in songs. The country folk would come from miles around to enjoy the preaching and singing. The offering plates would be passed and at the end of the sermon, an invitation, that seemingly lasted forever, would be enjoined. This was the opportunity for the lost souls to step forward to be saved. The whole thing seemed wonderful. I was so happy to see my father helping to save all of these lost souls from the fires of hell.

It was wonderful, until the beatings started. I don’t know what triggered the anger that was vented on me. I know there are many things that can light and then stoke the fires of rage in a heart. Jealousy, envy, failure, among other things can warp a mind.

The beatings were usually administered with a belt. To this day, I flashback if I take my belt off too fast and hear the slap, slap, sound of the belt passing the loops. This is not to say he was above taking a swing at my head. I learned early on to give him a wide berth when passing him.

The usual scenario would be for him to see me involved in some transgression during church. Whispering to a chum, passing a note, something worthy of assault, and he would catch my eye and nod which would tell me I was going to get my ass beaten when I got home. This had the added spice of, I suppose for him, of terrorizing me for the duration of the church service and the ride home.

When we got home he never forgot. He would go into my bedroom and call me in. He would take his belt off, flap, flap, flap, and start in on me. When he was finished, I would have purple impressions of his belt covering my legs and rear end. When I got older and had gym class, there were days when I would refuse to change into my gym clothes because I didn’t want anyone to see the welts. Then, of course, I would get an incomplete for the class and another beating.