When I called Northwest Airlines and asked for help with my drinking, I didn’t care if I ever got into another cockpit ever again. I was told that if I “come forward,” and asked for help, there was a chance that I wouldn’t fly again. But in July 1994 I didn’t care anymore – I had had enough…
The first think I had to do was complete a 28-day program at Hazelden, in Minnesota. Then I was told, having been assessed as “alcoholic,” I had a choice: I could either drink, or fly – but not both anymore. And that was fine with me…
I was “off line” (grounded) for 10 months, and never missed a pay check. In addition I had several “hoops” to jump through in order to get back to work.
First I had to remain sober. They told me that it was Northwest’s policy that they would give me 1 relapse. That was kind of a relief as I sure as hell didn’t want to drink anymore. (When I told my friend Joe about this policy he remarked, “Hey Holliker, if you do decide to drink, give me a call first. You were a fucking riot when you were lit!” Swell…)
Then I had to attend ‘Aftercare’ once a week, for 3 years. I think I may have missed 1 or 2, at most. I actually enjoyed Aftercare, and learning about his disease of alcoholism.
Once a month I had to meet with our Chief Pilot in Detroit, and every 2 weeks or so (minimum) I had to make contact with my Northwest ‘sponsor.’ Then I had to fly up to Northwest Headquarters in Minneapolis (Mecca) and meet with the company Medical Officer, once a month – for a year or so. (More on this jerk later…) And finally I had to meet with a “shrink” once a year, for 3 years, to determine how many brain cells I had fried during my drinking days.
I didn’t mind any of these ‘conditions,’ except my ‘audiences’ with the company’s medical officer. Today, with 18+ years of sobriety, I can look back and now think, “What an idiot…” Oh well, moving on.
While I have ‘little love’ for Northwest upper management, I am totally grateful for the opportunity I had to attend Hazelden. I know of folks who have gotten sober through AA alone, but it’s a great deal tougher. And so my journey into sobriety began…