09/06/2026
I began life born in Staten Island, NY, in a household without religion, without God, without a bible available and not being permitted to seek it out or going to church. My father was a damaged Vietnam veteran, who was not a Godly man in any regard, very rage-filled and a daily wh***ey drinker. Growing up, he redirected a lot of his anger toward me, I was the bad kid, even though I normally didn’t even understand why or feel like I did anything wrong, I caught beatings and the bad end of his anger pretty regularly. I grew up timid and scared, closed doors and cabinets quietly, sat on a pillow in my room to avoid making the floorboards creak.
This continued until I was about 14 and started playing sports with my friends, got bigger, and eventually was able to fight back against him. One night was the turning point, where I shoved him down hard into a door, and from that point forward, he stopped coming after me, but redirected his anger toward my older, weaker brother instead. I went on through high school spending as little time at home as possible, stayed at friends houses a lot, and spent every summer vacation from school with my Grandfather on the New Jersey shore, fishing and crabbing, as I had done for years prior. He was more of a father figure to me than my own dad was.
I went on to play high school hockey with my circle of friends, and we intended on going to college to play also, a few of us including myself were honor students and took trips and went through competitions in National Honors Society, a couple had gotten scholarships for school. Then September 11th happened, growing up near NYC, we decided to join the military, do “do our part” as we felt invaded, angry, and unsafe after the attack. After our term of service, I lost 3 of my friends to overseas combat, and one from su***de after spending a couple years deployed in the Middle East.
I began leaning on drugs, ma*****na, L*D, mushrooms, to cope with the loss. I was still not a saved man, never learned about Jesus or Christianity at all, so I filled the hole I had in my heart with substance abuse and alcoholism. As time went on, the drug use got lighter, but the drinking got a bit heavier, it was easier to get. I moved to GA with my current girlfriend, who I split with a few months later, and then met who was my future wife for 17 years. She drank a lot and smoked pot, so she disregarded my habits for the most part, and everything was seemingly fine. Her father’s church was in Tennessee, where we moved to after a few years to be closer to her side of the family. They were primitive baptist, so my exposure to religion through the marriage was pretty dull, and soulless, her family including her father was pretty judgmental, hateful, and hypocritical, it did me no favors with finding God.
I hit a turning point a few years later, my grandfather had passed away, and months later, I got the phone call that essentially destroyed my current life. My brother had committed su***de, as a direct result of the abuse he had endured, the abuse that I redirected toward him when my dad attacked me, and not being there for him or standing up for him. The survivors guilt is very real. Drinking became daily, and then became my entire life, from wake up, until I went to bed, going to work drunk, drinking first thing in the morning, just to end the shakes so I could walk to the bathroom because my legs were trembling so hard. I was losing control of my body, vomiting daily, and hallucinating with delirium if I hadn’t drank for half a day attempting to slow down. My wife got sick of it, didn’t see through to try to help me, and filed for divorce and abandoned the situation.
I moved into a hotel, where I had also gotten an overnight job, directly in front of the hotel was a liquor store that was open late. It created the perfect scenario for a severe alcoholic, I worked graveyard shift so barely had responsibility, I slept where I worked so It was as simple as just walking back to my room, and the alcohol didn’t even require a drive to get to, it was right in front of me at all times. It became easy to remain a chronic alcoholic, work, and not endanger anyone on the road. At this point, I burned every bridge, had no friends, no family left talking to me. The only person who tried helping my hopeless, miserable self was an older lady that worked breakfast in the morning, showed up about 90 minutes before the end of my shift. She spoke to me a bit about recovery, church, and Jesus, small sample sizes at a time but I listened.
Life continued where I just worked, drank, slept, and rotted away in isolation in my hotel room, going home alone every single day, occasionally sleeping with a random woman that I met in town or an online dating app. It was misery, and I ran out of any kind of hope or purpose. I looked into some rehabs, but with no insurance, or thousands of dollars, I hit a dead end every time. Life was pointless, and I was nearing my end. In the middle of August, I sat in my room, through tears, and wrote up my su***de note. I had every intention of getting in my car that night, and driving off of the mountain bluff in Sewanee, TN. I was done with this life, and saw nothing to even continue living for. I left the note on my end table, and sat in my running car in the parking lot, less than 10 minutes from death.
Som**hing came over me, and an overpowering, sober voice that wasn’t mine told me “Try one more time, get out of the car. Get help, your life doesn’t end tonight, you are meant for more.” It shook me and I went back upstairs to my room and called the crisis hotline. Two hours later, the local police and paramedics picked me up and took me to Wi******er hospital to detox, they said I was a danger to myself and to the people around me and gave me no option.
I went through delirium tremens for days, during a 5 day medical detox. I was hallucinating, didn’t sleep a minute, heard loud screaming next to my ear, large bangs like a gunshot going off in my room. When lights were off I saw dozens of moving shadow people and creatures, I was completely demented. One nurse named Kevin took care of me, kept coming to see me, and all he wanted to do was come talk to me about the bible and Jesus. All I wanted to do was tell him to shut up, leave me alone, and push him away. He persisted. On day 5 where I was beginning to feel a little better, he sat on the foot of my bed and asked me why I didn’t kill myself. I felt like this was a harsh question until I saw his intention. I told him a voice in my head overpowered the miserable thoughts and told me to get out of my car and try it again. He just smiled. “What do you think that was? Do you even realize that was God speaking to you? That was God telling you no, telling you that you have purpose and you aren’t meant to die! Was that your voice in your head or a different voice?”
Then it clicked, I felt an overwhelming joy and it just made sense in the moment. God had been speaking to me and I wasn’t listening, I thought it was my inner dialogue, but God had been trying to guide me in the right direction. I cried hysterically, I felt the presence of him all throughout my body and it was the first time I had smiled from joy in a very long time. He stood me up, took my hands and asked if I would accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior, if he could pray for me and bring me to God where I stood. I agreed. He went home and brought me back a study bible, personalized it, and gave me a few places to start and learn. “August 16th, 2025, Gave life to the Lord and became a Christian!” Was the first written note in the bible.
At this point I was essentially homeless, got fired from my hotel job, they packed what little belongings I had and said I needed to find a new place to live. Wi******er sent me to Moccasin Bend in Chattanooga to deal with my suicidal thoughts. I stayed there for only 3 short days until they realized I didn’t belong there, and my now-saved mindset was much more positive, I wanted to learn more about Jesus, I didn’t want to die anymore. They drove me to a homeless shelter, I had roughly $450 to my name and refused the shelter, so I walked to a miserable motel called The Chatt Inn that was cockroach infested and had police tape hanging off of a few rails. I stayed there for 4 days and exhausted most of my money. I came to the realization that my next step was to hit the streets and figure out homeless life. Going through my phone contact list, I realized no one on there would speak to me anymore. Until I reached that one name, Angie. The woman that worked breakfast at the hotel that I spoke to a lot and tried to help me. I called her and told her my situation, her and her husband came and picked me up, and she said she thinks she has an option for me. I spent the last of my money on a hotel room in Monteagle, and she said they would pick me up in the morning and take me to church with them. I agreed.
That morning, Angie brought me to Highland Community Church, their home church, and got me connected with Pastor Johnathan Layne, who told me about Recovery Soldiers. After a few discussions, we decided it would be a fit for me and the next day I was dropped off at the Grundy campus. I learned more structure, learned about Jesus Christ, and had an experience that was the most challenging, and the most rewarding of my entire life. I found joy, purpose, hope, and the lord Jesus Christ through this journey. I thank God every day for my second chance, Pastor LJ and all of RSM for helping save my life along the way. Praise the lord.
