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During the summer of 78, when I was 15, I went to Catalina Island with a group of friends from school. I had just returned from a week at church camp and had rededicated my life to Christ. I promised God that I would quit drinking and smoking pot and I prayed fervently that God would help me get through the weekend on the island without drinking.

During the day it was easy. I laid out in the sun and swam in the ocean. But when evening came and the alcohol was readily available, saying no was once again impossible. I drank enough beer to last all night and then some guy made me Hawaiian drinks with vodka and fruit juice.

In the morning I felt so bad for drinking; I got up early and went to a Catholic mass with some friends. I wasn't even Catholic. I really did mean it when I told God I would quit. Every time I drank from that day forward I promised I would quit. And I really meant it.

Fortunately I had a God in my life who understood my disease before I ever did. With each failed attempt, came one more chance, until one day I was able to say no for good.

I went on a two day trip to San Luis Obispo with my Speech and Debate team when I was in high school. We drove four hours on a bus to Cal Poly University and stayed in a hotel called Divinity. We spent the afternoon playing pool, bowling, watching television and eating ice cream. It was all normal teenage fun.

But that night the party began. They filled the bathtub full of beer and wine and everyone was smoking pot. We had quite a few rooms reserved so we traveled from one room to another drinking and smoking. The party went on all night and then we had our speech competition the next day.

I didn't do very well, but that was OK, because the party the next night was even better. Someone brought in bourbon and scotch and we had shooter contests. I remember hating the taste of hard alcohol, yet drinking it anyway.

Our chaperone kept catching me wandering the halls and telling me to go to bed. I was so drunk. I often wonder why the adults who watched me stumble around the hallways never did anything to help me. I wonder how many were alcoholics themselves.

When we got back to school, the teacher never mentioned my behavior at all. Did he know? Did he care? Was he to drunk to notice? I guess I will never know.

I feel sorry for teenagers who still haven't discovered the damaging effect of drugs and alcohol. I wish they could bypass the whole process, as I am sure some will.

I had good friends in school who went to parties with me to keep me safe. But they themselves never drank. I am unsure how this was possible for them since I couldn't go anywhere liquor was served without getting drunk.

I guess they didn't have an alcohol problem. I guess not everybody does. I guess that is a real good thing, for them.

Learn more about this author, Lacy Enderson.
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