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  • George and I made the long trip in his car, from Philly to Georgia. We stopped at South-of-the-Border and loaded the car up with fireworks. When we got to Marietta, we met up with our friends there.

    We had worked with them on writing a book, that we hoped would help a lot of addicts find recovery from addiction. It was an intense effort. We'd all worked long, hard hours, travelling all over the country gathering input and holding literature conferences where you'd stay up for days, writing, compiling, editing.

    This trip was strictly for fun. We still knew how to do that, too. One night, I think it was Christmas Eve, I don't remember how it got started or whose hair-brained idea it was... but we found ourselves in an old cemetery, reenacting the civil war. Our ancestors had fought for the North, theirs for the South, and we just let it all hang out in a wild campaign, firing off those roman candles like missiles at each other, ducking behind gravestones, lobbing M-80's and Cherry Bombs at each other like grenades.

    It was hilarious and exhilarating - until the cops arrived. The neighbors apparently were none too pleased, nor were the autorities. We spent the night in the local jail for disturbing the peace. It's a wonder that none of us wound up in the hospital.

    But, man, it sure was fun, a strange, out of the ordinary night whose memory will always bring a smile as I recall the engagement with my southern brothers in arms!
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