After talking with Susan, and Adrian, I called out union rep who worked in our pilot assistance program, and I asked for help. Now mind you, I didn’t just come out and say, ‘I needed help;’ I took the more ‘indirect approach. I told him, ‘I think I might have a problem with alcohol.’ I used the words ‘think’ and ‘might’ just in case I didn’t! This gave me a way out, in case I didn’t have a problem with alcohol! Ever the manipulator…
We talked for about 45 minutes, and he was convinced that I needed to fly up to Hazelden for an ‘assessment.’ Another ‘out?’ I agreed, and he then asked me if it was alright if he called our Detroit Chief Pilot, Dick Edwards. I said, “Sure.”
At that point I was beat. I was bankrupt: spiritually, almost financially, morally, physically – I was whipped. And I needed help.
It wasn’t 10 – 15 minutes before I received a call from Dick. The first thing he said was, he thanked me for coming forward. Then he told me that Northwest (Airlines) was going to take care of me, and my family – and I somehow knew it. And, they did.
He then told me they ‘had a bed’ for me at Hazelden, and he asked if I could make the noon flight to Minneapolis the next day. Sure I could – anything you want…
He then asked if I had had anything to drink that day, Saturday. I told him that I hadn’t, and I hadn’t. My last drink was on 28 Jul 1994. As ‘sick’ as I was, it just didn’t make any sense to me to ask for help, then drink. So, that was it. I was about to begin the scariest journey of my life…