The Road to Recovery Starts with a Bus Ride

By Betsy Lee

After 43 years, it had come down to one decision. He could sit and wait three hours for his last chance at a life or he could get up and walk away.

Ronald Sparks decided several weeks ago that his 20-year addiction to cocaine had reached a breaking point. He took a Greyhound bus to Clearwater from Douglas, Ga., and spent the entire six-hour ride worrying about his future. When he arrived in Clearwater, he fell back into his old habits, spending most of his $900 savings.

Sparks tried to break away again, this time spending $40 on a cab ride to St. Petersburg. Through the Mustard Seed Foundation, a substance abuse clinic, he was referred to Brother Kiambu Mudada of Our Brother's Keeper, Inc. Mudada told Sparks to wait at the Mustard Seed until Mudada could come and pick him up. Sparks had been through three addiction programs and had been in prison five times. This was his last hope. So he went into the garden to wait.

After settling into a green plastic lawn chair, Sparks observed the life springing up around him. Vines curled around the trunks of lofty palm trees. Healthy green plants were just beginning to bloom. As the minutes clicked by, fear gripped his throat. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to make changes in his life.

"I sat and thought, 'What have I gotten myself into?'"

But something in his heart wouldn't let him leave.

"I knew I was finally ready."

Six weeks have passed and Sparks is clean. He moved into Our Brother's Keeper house, 1601 12th St. S., and became part of the program's six-month transitional housing program. The non-profit organization helps drug addicts and former prison inmates smooth the transition between their old way of life and freedom.

For Sparks, understanding his drug use is the key to breaking free. For a long time, he only knew that cocaine took the pain away. Each time he suffered through a failed relationship, he turned to drugs. When his family went through a difficult time, he bought some cocaine to get him through.

Sparks began using cocaine in 1984 when his marriage was falling apart. He married his high school sweetheart immediately after graduation and only a few years later he was losing her. While working at a cafeteria in the Miami area, a co-worker invited Sparks to a party at her house. She wanted him to try cocaine. Previously, Sparks had only used marijuana.

"It felt relaxing. It felt pain free," Sparks said. "Pot didn't even compare."

His dependence on the drug increased rapidly, but he was in denial about his problem. By 1986, his marriage had ended and Sparks' cocaine use progressed from a weekend recreation to a daily ritual. To maintain his costly habit, Sparks became a dealer.

He was first arrested for the sale of cocaine Sept. 26, 1990, in Naples, Fla. Sparks said he and a buddy were hanging out on the balcony of his apartment when they saw a man walking on the street. They waved him over. Sparks accepted the money and his friend handed the man cocaine. Two days later the police arrested them and charged the two men with the sale of counterfeit drugs.

"I was walking to the phone booth to call a friend when this car pulled up behind me," Sparks said. "Then another one pulled up in front of me. My throat was choked up. I was thinking about how mad my mom was gonna be."

In 10 years, Sparks has been in and out of Florida prisons five times. For his last offense, he received his longest sentence—a three-year term. Sparks describes his years in prison as a joy because he was away from the drugs. But Sparks also said that he had "seen everything," including prison fights and sexual abuse.

"That's not a life in there," Sparks said, fiddling nervously with his pack of 305 cigarettes. "I needed a life."

Life began again April 17, 2002. Sparks was released from prison and moved from Florida to Douglas, Ga., to be with his mother. His new life started out with promise. He got a job at the Gold Kiss chicken hatchery and started saving money. But before long, Sparks fell back into his old habit. He found cocaine even in the small rural town.

"If you are a drug addict, drugs are not hard to find," Sparks said. "If you love to shop, you know where to find the mall. With drugs, it's the same thing. You just have get in the right neighborhood and not be afraid to ask."

One morning Sparks woke up and decided he needed to change his life. He said a feeling in his chest told him it was time to seek help. One week later, Sparks quit his job and caught a bus bound for Clearwater. Sparks said he picked the city simply because he had never been there before.

Upon moving into the Our Brother's Keeper house, Sparks went through what he referred to as "isolation time." During this two-week period he ceased contact with anyone from his past. Mudada said he isolation time serves as a cleansing process during which participants focus on themselves.

After the isolation time, Sparks immediately wrote to his mother. In his letter, he explained the program at Our Brother's Keeper. He told her he believes he will beat his addiction. He said he expects letters from his mother and youngest sister soon.

The program at Our Brother's Keeper is broken down into three stages. First, participants spend time performing community service and working around the house to earn money for rent. Our Brother's Keeper requires residents to pay $147 in rent each month; they make $5.50 an hour for their work around the house. During the second stage, residents of the house seek employment while still spending time working and studying. After steady employment is achieved, participants attend evening meetings and receive assistance in looking for an apartment.

When Sparks first arrived at the house, the new living room was under construction. He is proud of his help with the renovation. Sparks also enjoys cooking for the group, a skill he believes will help him when he is on his own. His specialty is "turkey pan pie," a recipe he got from his mom.

The community service emphasized by the program provides a source of self-esteem for Sparks.

"People didn't see me as a crack addict," Sparks said of one Saturday afternoon spent working at the Pinellas County Health Fair. "They saw me as somebody. They saw me as somebody doing something for nothing in return."

In addition to helping with community events, individuals involved with Our Brother's Keeper do a regular neighborhood cleanup. Every Tuesday they gather food from an area food bank and set up a table to distribute it. They also mow lawns and rake leaves for residents who cannot do it themselves. Marion Helem, a resident at Our Brother's Keeper, said the community service helps residents turn away from the junkie mentality.

"Out there on the street it's survival of the fittest. You are out there only for yourself. No man is an island, but that's the way a normal junkie functions," Helem said. "Here, it's not mine, it's ours."

Over the course of six weeks, Sparks has become a role model for the group, according to Mudada. Mudada, who brought Sparks to the home, said his improvement allowed him to assume some leadership roles, like leading the rap sessions. At these nightly sessions, participants have the chance to discuss their addictions and air concerns relating to life in the house.

With a bowed head, Sparks calls the meeting to order with his version of the Serenity Prayer.

"God help me to accept what I cannot change. Give me the strength to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

After the prayer, the three men living in the house sit back on three plump brown couches. The other two residents splay out on the sofa, their arms behind their heads, relishing the break from their daily chores.

"Hey," Sparks says with a furrowed brow. "Why don't you get up and sit up."

Sparks takes his job very seriously. As he opens up the discussion, he keeps his pen poised over the logbook, ready to record everything.

"Has anyone had any urges today?" Sparks asks, referring to their drug addictions.

"Naw," Helem says. "It's too hot and I'm too tired to have any urges."

Despite his progress, Sparks is not certain about his future.

"I cannot say I will never use again, but right now I'm drug-free and I'm happy," Sparks said.

The true test of his success will last a lifetime.

Photos: The Road to Recovery Starts with a Bus Ride by Keri Wiginton

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