Broken: My Story of Addiction and Redemption

Broken: My Story of Addiction and Redemption

William Cope Moyers, Katherine Ketcham

Language: English

Pages: 372

ISBN: 0143112457

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Broken: My Story of Addiction and Redemption

William Cope Moyers, Katherine Ketcham

Language: English

Pages: 372

ISBN: 0143112457

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Unlike some popular memoirs that have fictionalized and romanticized the degradations of drug addiction, Broken is a true-life tale of recovery that stuns and inspires with virtually every page. The eldest son of journalist Bill Moyers, William Cope Moyers relates with unforgettable clarity the story of how a young man with every advantage found himself spiraling into a love affair with crack cocaine that led him to the brink of death-and how a deep spirituality allowed him to conquer his shame, transform his life, and dedicate himself to changing America's politics of addiction.

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parents on the terrace in our backyard, chatting about the day or discussing world events. I never drank more than one or two beers, and my parents rarely had more than one drink. I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of my parents drunk. My drinking habits changed the day I arrived for my freshman year at Washington&Lee University in Lexington, Virginia. The grain alcohol mixed with Kool-Aid at the opening class party tasted like fruit punch and within minutes my anxiety about school and classes

surrounded by them amidst the several people who had seen or heard the incident occur. I was arrested, photographed and fingerprinted, charged with burglary (a class A felony) and released without bond. The next morning I was arraigned in Nassau County court and a preliminary hearing has been set for January 22. Ironically, the fish market is owned by a man whose son was a teammate of mine on the high school football team. He called my father to say that he would consider the matter a “college

is you are supposed to do at that time; for now, hear the only voice you can judge is true, the one within. I am for whatever you choose to do. But I know which Cope I’m rooting for. I’m rooting for the real thing. Love, Dad What was the “real thing”? Damned if I knew, and it irritated the hell out of me that Dad was trying to tell me what I should be. Dad was remembering the child Cope, the boy who felt at home in Wilmer in the company of his grandfather, the kid who looked at the stars

recovering alcoholic who to this day hires people from Fellowship Club and Twin Town Treatment Center (his alma mater) to work at his warehouse, recycling canned and packaged goods that have been damaged in fires or other natural disasters. A few months after I started work at RCI we got a huge shipment in after the earthquake in San Francisco. My favorite job at RCI was unloading the huge pallets of canned goods from trucks that arrived from Kansas, Texas, Maine—wherever there had been a fire,

I was upfront about my treatment and relapses in part because I had no choice—how else could I explain the fact that I abruptly stopped working at the Star-Tribune after only eleven months on the job or the six-month gap that followed when I didn’t work at all? Kim didn’t seem fazed, and later that day she offered me the job. Back in St. Paul, Allison and I celebrated my new job and our new life with a steak dinner and a few rounds of our favorite drink—Mendota Springs mineral water with a

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