How recovery started at our home

Up stairs in our loud messy home, the morning after Halloween 1967, my 9 year old younger sister Julie said, to our weak hungover mother “ mom everyone in the neighborhood is calling you and dad drunks and our family white trash, can’t you do anything like go to AA like Uncle Joe?” Julie’s tender spark intervention plea caused mom to call AA’s Washington DC area intergroup phone number. The next night mom and dad attended their first of thousands of meetings and they both died sober decades later.