I first met Roy—at a distance—when I attended my first international convention in Oklahoma City in December 1985. I had about four months of sobriety back then. Someone pointed Roy out to me but I did not formally introduce myself.

I remember that one of the guys attending the convention confessed that he did not conform to our sobriety definition, but he called himself sober anyway. He participated in all of the sober activities, such as accepting sobriety coins. Just before the Saturday night banquet, I noticed Roy standing at the entrance to the banquet room as this same guy came walking down the corridor toward the room. I was within earshot when Roy confronted him quite audibly, saying, “You are not sober in this program!” and then walked away. I was shocked to hear this, but at the same time I learned a lot about Roy and about his commitment to our program, as well as the importance of our sobriety definition to the unity of our fellowship. This was a source of comfort to me at the time.

Over the years, Roy and I talked on the phone from time to time. One evening, early on in my sobriety, my wife and I were cooking in the kitchen, preparing supper. Things were not well-organized in our kitchen. I was desperately looking for a cooking utensil and was becoming frustrated. Without any verbal communication between my wife and me, I turned to find her standing behind me with the exact utensil I needed. She probably did that because she was afraid of my rageful anger. This did enrage me because I felt watched by her and very helpless that I did not find it myself.

Before I was able to vent on my wife, the phone rang and it was Roy. I don’t remember now what he called about but he made the mistake of asking me how things were going. Needless to say, he got an earful and when I was finished ranting he said, “Why didn’t you just take the spoon and say thank you?” There was silence on both ends of the line. With that simple question, I was humbled. Here was an opportunity to express gratitude to my wife. I really had not done much of that before this—and I blew it! But I learned a big lesson in acceptance. After that, every time Roy and I talked, whether on the phone or in person, he remembered my wife by name, and would ask how she was.

I had other dealings with Roy over the years on the phone and in committees. In all of his dealings, Roy always expressed his love for and commitment to the SA fellowship, and all of its members. Roy certainly went to any length for sobriety. But he also went to any length to help us and encourage us—both verbally and by his example of how to live the best life, by God’s grace through SA’s principles and the Twelve Steps. It is still hard to believe he is gone. He will always be in my mind, heart, and prayers—and I believe he is in a much better place to help us now than he ever was.

Yours in God’s Love and Sobriety,