Edward "Ed" Rushton

  

My name is Edward Rushton. I am 69 years old, and a resident of the Durham Rescue Mission. For years I was addicted to alcohol and it is for this reason that I came to the Mission in 2004. My journey here was long and hard. Let me explain.

I was raised in a Christian family. My parents (now deceased) were God-fearing and fervent teetotalers, believing that alcohol was of the Devil. As youngsters, my sisters and I were regularly summoned for family prayer and twice weekly church services.

God blessed me with a certain measure of intelligence and athletic ability. In high school my academic and football accomplishments attracted the attention of several colleges and universities, including Duke University. Duke offered me the choice between a full academic and athletic scholarship. I chose the latter, to become a student-athlete, and play football.

From day one, academic studies held priority. Playing second fiddle to Duke’s rigid standards, however, proved not to be a substantial hurdle to our football team’s performance. We competed successfully against a number of nationally recognized schools, and earned 2 trips to the Orange Bowl games in Miami.

Upon graduation and before entering Duke Law School, I received a commendation from the undergraduate School of Arts and Science for excellence in scholarship and athletics.

During my 3 years at the Law school, I developed a strong interest in federal taxation and corporate law; and I later pursued their studies at the NYU Graduate School of Law in New York City.

Finally, with my formal schooling behind me, I went to work in the real world. Several months after my 26th birthday, I accepted a position with the American Telephone and Telegraph Company (AT&T) in New York.

I continued faithfully with regular church involvement and bible study until I was 30 years old. Alcohol had never interested me; I was considered a straight arrow by those who knew me.

Several young lawyers and I often ended a long workday with dinner in the city. It was at such a gathering when, after some playful, gentle persuasion, I was coaxed into trying a beer. The taste was not pleasant but the warm feeling that followed was.

Thus began my romance with alcohol. I eased into the drinking scene casually and, I believe, innocently. In the early years I drank almost exclusively on the weekends. Hangovers were negligible and infrequent. Occasionally, though on a Saturday night, I would drink more than I had intended. Each time that happened I would miss church the next morning, but that omission, too, struck me as negligible, nothing to be concerned about.

The first red flag went up when binge drinking became more or less habitual. My church life suffered as regular attendance became less important, and I gave up completely on my Sunday School teaching.

Clearly, my descent into full-blown alcoholism had begun. Nevertheless, I stubbornly and steadfastly refused to admit it. All along I rationalized that a person possessed of intelligence and discipline, plus a high level of education, would not be so stupid as to become a slave to alcohol. Unquestionably, I was in state of extreme denial. The reality was that alcohol had by now gained a strong foothold in my life.

I tried Alcoholics Anonymous all over the place, but this effort turned into a farce, as I usually got drunk after the meetings. Two treatment centers later, I was no better off. Abstinence from alcohol had become a mountain too steep to climb, a bridge too far to cross. The AA’ers describe this drug as cunning, baffling and powerful. Most emphatically, I found it so.

Ultimately, I could no longer go on with that lifestyle. I retired from all professional and business activity at age of 56. My drinking tailed off for some time, about 5 years more or less.

Believing that I could become a social drinker again, once the pressure was off in the hectic work-a-day world, I undertook a project that was dear to my heart. My father (who was then 86) and I began writing the story of his life, and a contemporary history of our family in the 20th century. Dad’s energy soon flagged, however, and I wrote the book through to the end. In celebration and unspeakable relief over the completion of this years’ long labor of love, I returned to the bottle.

One weekend not long afterward, I happened to come to Duke for a reunion of my graduation class of 1958. I was in no shape to participate in, much less enjoy, the festivities. The old Duke friend with whom I had traveled to the affair checked me into a motel in town. There I remained for 10 days; the next day, October 14, 2004, I took a cab to the Durham Rescue Mission, in near-total desperation.

With that decision, which I believe was heaven-sent, my life was saved! The special people in this extraordinary place first provided rest and nourishment for a depleted body. I was given work to do there which enabled me to reclaim a certain level of self-respect. Spiritual nourishment was administered when I was able to receive it. Trained counselors on staff reintroduced me to the Bible. Intensive study in the Word and persistent prayer, accompanied by daily church worship, have convicted me that God is in control and it is He who brought me to this place.

For all those years I tried it MY WAY, to little avail. I was mired in a slough of despondency and despair, with seemingly no way out. I owe total gratitude and allegiance to God-for His love, mercy, and grace in delivering me from this bondage of sin. And I count it a miracle that the Lord raised up the Durham Rescue Mission as his instrument for my personal salvation, and eternal life, through His Son Jesus Christ.

Ed Rushton
March 2006