ONE HAND ON THE SINK

Chapter 4

The fact that Mike Turner developed a serious drinking problem should not have been surprising. Alcoholism ran deep throughout the family tree. During his stint at Find Hope Rehabilitation Services, Mike had learned that science could not yet say for certain that genetics played a role in the disease of alcoholism, but the evidence certainly suggested a link.

Mike's own father rarely drank, but reminded Mike of Stephen King's description of Andy Dufresne in the Shawshank Redemption. King said the falsely-imprisoned banker kept his drinking sessions to a bare minimum because he had been "bitten hard by the bottle. Hard enough to draw blood." In James Turner's case, it wasn't his own experience with drinking that led to an abundance of caution but rather what he'd seen of his own father. James rarely spoke to Mike and his siblings about his old man, but there were enough bits and pieces doled out over the years to bring the ugly picture into focus: Mike's grandfather had been a drunk of the highest magnitude. The one thing all the Turner kids knew about their grandfather, Charlie, because they had heard it countless times, was that he "died a drunk on the streets of New York City."

Mike's dad may or may not have carried the alcoholic gene, but there was no doubt that his mother, Evelyn, did. But, like Mike, she didn't fit the typical stereotype. Growing up, Mike had no idea his mom had a problem because he rarely saw her drink. That was because she would only do it once the kids were tucked into bed. Armed with the knowledge he acquired about the disease at rehab, it made perfect sense. His mom knew— maybe only on a subconscious level — that once she cracked open that first beer there was no stopping, so she would only start late at night. She would usually end up asleep on the living room couch, often with a nearly-full can of Schlitz on the floor beside her. The first task of James Turner's mornings was usually to dump the can and throw it away before the kids came downstairs.

Mike could not ever recall seeing his mom drunk and was stunned when he came home from high school one day to the news that she was in rehab. She was in her 50s at that point and apparently ready to make a change. Although she was uncomfortable in the AA small-group setting (as Dave would be a few years later) and thus rarely attended meetings, she never took another drink.

It undoubtedly pained Evelyn severely to subsequently watch her two oldest sons succumb to alcohol. Dave's death tore her apart, and Mike wondered how much of that pain was guilt over not having done more to help him. When Mike started drinking, she often turned a blind eye. He was 21 at the time and (theoretically) an adult who could make his own decisions, but he was still living at home. There was never a direct confrontation on the subject even though she would always be the one stuck cleaning up Mike's messes.

Many times, his mom would find him passed out in his room or in the kitchen with a large wet spot spreading on the front of his jeans. The next day she might casually ask about the night before and try to get him to open up a little. Usually, though, it was quickly set aside, if not forgotten. After Mike married and moved out, she would occasionally send him little cards and notes through the mail. He kept them all. Sometimes the letters would suggest that he should visit more often. And sometimes they contain a thinly-veiled question about his drinking. One such letter started with a funny story and ended with the line "so what have you been up to? I'm sure nothing good, and I wouldn't want to know."

Mike also had three older sisters who all drank to one degree or another. And while the middle girl, Amy, had some rough run-ins with booze — there was an often-told tale of the night Amy passed out half in and half out of her car while it was parked in front of the house and the old crone who lived next door had to slap her to wake her up — none of the three were real alcoholics.

The jury was still out on his other brother, Peter.

While Dave was 10 years older than Mike and the eldest of the six Turner siblings, Peter was just two years younger. And because he was the only other male, he and Mike were often inseparable during their upbringing. Both had friends of their own and friends who hung out with both of the younger Turner boys, but more often than not the two brothers kept each other company. Summer days were filled with one-on-one Wiffle ball games in the backyard (often featuring a thin wooden bat, a plastic golf ball and rules known only to the brothers) and kickball games in the parking lot that sat at the end of their little street. In the winter, it was street hockey between the two when the parking lot was clear and mano-a-mano snowball battles when there was snow on the ground.