Ronnie Polaneczky: Clean and sober, ex-addicts give thanks in Bensalem

ON THANKSGIVING MORNING, as most of us prepared to stuff our bellies with pie and our bags with Black Friday booty, hundreds of recovering alcoholics and addicts converged in Bucks County, united by their past chase of the next high.

And by the present high of needing only each other.

They were at Livengrin, an addiction-treatment center in Bensalem, where many had gotten clean and sober. And they'd returned on Thanksgiving for its annual gratitude day. It's a simple but extraordinary happening that, for at least three decades, has given those in recovery a chance to state publicly why they're thankful.

A single microphone stood at a podium in Livengrin's vaulted conference room, where a line of folks snaked down one side of the room for a chance to explain, for two to three minutes, why their hearts were bursting with joy.

Some had been clean for decades; others, for days. Some were calm and straightforward; others worked the room like it was a Vegas club. Some spoke with halting sincerity; others were so eloquent, you wished they'd go on for an hour.

One man, sober for the second Thanksgiving in a row, was glad that his holiday meal would be celebrated with kin. Last year, he ate "government turkey" in prison.

One woman, off the bottle for decades, felt blessed that she hadn't needed booze to get through a wrenching year that has included a family death and a violent car wreck.

A young dad spoke with awe of the sponsor who helped him reconnect with his little boy. And an older mom told of how far she'd come since the days when she needed a sixpack to get through an outing with her baby.

And so, so many were amazed that they no longer woke in foggy self-loathing for the destruction they'd wrought the night before - activities that had once robbed them of peace, cost them jobs and homes, battered the hearts of those who loved them most.

"I'm broke, I live in a small apartment and I drive an old van," said one man, who lost his impressive house, hot car and "trophy wife" to addiction before finally getting clean. "And I am happier than I have ever been."

Because the gathering has taken on cult status - people journey from all over the Delaware Valley to attend - latecomers have a hard time finding a parking spot outside or a seat inside.

Not that anyone seemed to care. They were too busy giving bear hugs and whooping in laughter as they greeted each other. So spirited was the reunion, it took Livengrin communications director Keith Mason almost five minutes to quiet everyone to begin.

"This is an incredible tradition," Mason had told me when he invited me to experience the meeting for myself. "Inpatients who are trying to put together a few days' sobriety hear from people who once were where they are. They think, 'If he can get sober, maybe I can, too.'"

The programs at Livengrin follow the Twelve Steps model of addiction treatment. Anonymity is its bedrock, protecting participants from the judgment of those who don't know an addict's hell. But the confidentiality can also prevent inspiring recovery stories from being heard by others.

Mason thought a column would help those still suffering know that their addictions can be overcome, with help. That's why it was announced, before the meeting, that I would be writing in a general way about the gathering. I am grateful that no one seemed to mind my presence.

In Pennsylvania, about one in every five households is affected by addiction. So we know well the stories of those who drink and die, use and destroy. The tragedies make headlines.

But so should the redemption of those who have found, as Mason says, "the light on the other side of the wall."

A light so bright, it drew hundreds to Bensalem on yet another Thanksgiving morning, to acknowledge the everyday miracle of clean and sober living.

"Today is the best day of my life, and that's what I said yesterday," a young man told the crowd. "It's just getting better and better."

For info: www.livengrin.org or call 800-245-4746.

Phone: 215-854-2217 Blog: philly.com/ronnieblog

Columns: philly.com/Ronnie