Wisconsin women find recovery in a ‘drunkest’ city
Ten of the Top 20 on that list are in the state
FOND DU LAC – Vickie took her first sip of alcohol at age 5.
Celebrating Christmas at her grandparents’ home, she watched as everyone pumped the golden brown liquid from the brandy decanter into their glasses. Thinking she wanted to do the same, she walked over and, with her tiny hand, pumped brandy and drank it straight.
“I remember my dad saying ‘She didn’t even bat an eye,’” she recounts. Behind her glasses, her eyes are wide as she repeats her dad’s words, black hair framing her face. “I just had a taste for it from early on.”
For as long as Vickie, 57, of Fond du Lac, can remember, alcohol has been part of her life. Growing up in southern Wisconsin, her dad worked construction in the summer and in the winter bartended at a supper club, while her mom waitressed. From her dad, she and her siblings learned the art of crafting “fancy drinks,” and when her parents went out to the bar, the children came with, she said.
“Of course, they thought they were good parents because they took us with them,” she said wryly.
Outside the confines of the taverns that seemed to be found every mile in Vickie’s hometown, alcohol was in the home — and had been for generations. Her paternal grandpa was a great baseball player, with those in her family saying, “He could’ve gone pro, but drank too much.”
Her mom was an alcoholic — however, it wasn’t always recognized. Her dad didn’t believe she was, and when she picked up again following a fiveyear period of sobriety, he said, “A beer or two won’t hurt.”
Vickie’s story is not uncommon throughout the state. In Wisconsin, alcohol is a cultural fixture. While Americans, on average, consumed 513
drinks per capita in 2012, Wisconsinites drank 660, according to the Wisconsin Department of Health Services.
Wisconsin cities rank yearly in a list of the United States’ drunkest cities in America, based on excessive drinking rates of five or more drinks for men and four or more for women on a single occasion, according to the Centers for Disease Control. According to 24/7 Wall Street, Wisconsin has 10 of the top 20 drunkest cities in 2018, including the Milwaukee-Waukesha-West Allis area, Sheboygan, Fond du Lac, La Crosse-Onalaska, Wausau, Oshkosh-Neenah, Madison, Appleton, Eau Claire and Green Bay.
Vickie’s story is emblematic of another part of the Wisconsin drinking culture, one where drinking has the possibility of turning to alcohol abuse, alcoholism, and, for those who survive, recovery.
The first time Vickie became drunk, it was after she hadn’t made the cheerleading squad at age 14. Her dad asked her what she wanted. She asked for a bottle of champagne. He obliged, and she drank the bottle that night.
At age 20, she married. A year later, she gave birth to a daughter. Two more followed.
‘Lived life to the fullest’
Across the country, in Manchester, New Hampshire, Estelle Kelly began drinking in high school. Now 74, the 22-years-sober East Coast native moved to Fond du Lac in 2002 to be with her daughter.
Growing up in what was known as “Little Canada” with her brother and sister, the tight-knit community was all French-speaking, the only English coming from the television set. Her father “lived life to the fullest” — a trait he passed down to his children, said Estelle.
When it came time to go to high school, her mom wanted her to go to a boarding school to become a nun. But with convincing from her dad, Estelle was allowed to go to the local school. There, she used the English she had learned in middle school to get by, picking up more of the language as she made friends and met boys.
As a result of the tense relationship between her and her mom, when she reached her senior year, Estelle “was determined to get married, get out of the house and never look back,” she said.
She found her match through friends: a drummer in a rock ’n’ roll band, seven years older than she, and divorced.
The two married without her family at a justice of peace in 1963, and returned to her home, where her parents threw a reception.
For Estelle, married life brought a new lifestyle, one where she went to her husband’s performances at bars, spending time with people older than she and drinking.
In 1968, Estelle and her husband adopted a son. A couple of years later, as they entered their ninth year of marriage, they welcomed a daughter.
“The success rate is not very good, and you just never know... But you know, if we give up, they have no hope, because I’m not alone on this quest in wanting to reach the lost.” Estelle Kelly
Abuse turns to alcoholism
In the early 1990s, two years after Vickie’s parents opened a bar, they decided to close it and move to Florida. Vickie struggled; her ties to them were strong. To cope, she began self-medicating with alcohol.
A year later, her mom became sick. She had previously spent time in the hospital with cirrhosis of the liver. This time, she became weak and died from septicemia. The real reason, Vickie said, was alcoholism.
Julia Sherman, coordinator for the Wisconsin Alcohol Policy Project, said these deaths are under-reported. Even though someone may die from alcohol poisoning, or as a result of their alcoholism, it will instead be listed as heart failure or respiratory issues on the death certificate.
After the funeral, her dad returned to Florida. A week later, he died from a massive heart attack. Her mother and father were 50 and 52, respectively.
That was the “nudge” that took her from slow spiral to plummet.
“I just drank. I was not going to feel,” she said. Between 1992 and 1998, Vickie went to three inpatient programs, in addition to multiple outpatient programs. Her husband and eldest daughter would try to find the bottles and dump them in attempts to control the disease. They didn’t understand why she couldn’t stop.
“I have the choice to take the first drink, but once I take that first drink, the choice is removed because my brain says ‘Just drink,’ ” she said.
In 1998, she went to Beacon House, a Fond du Lac rehabilitation program for women started 25 years ago by a nurse from Agnesian HealthCare when she saw women being turned away for treatment for alcoholism and sent home to take care of their families. Mary Gerlach, executive director of Beacon House, said at that time alcoholism was believed to be a “man’s disease, and passed down from father to son.”
Vickie maintained her sobriety for five years, then relapsed. At that point, her husband filed for divorce and her daughter moved in with him.
Turning point
On her 10th wedding anniversary, Estelle and her husband divorced. Mixing drugs and alcohol, she progressed downward as her son and daughter watched. Her sister stepped in and took care of her children. Traveling for her job as a lab tech, alcohol was a staple in all of her meals.
Estelle soon married again and divorced two years later, in 1978. Her dad came to her rescue, she said..
Returning to her job, she became a senior lab tech and met her “forever husband,” Paul, another employee of the company, who had five children. Taking breaks together, they got to know each other before he asked her out.
Moving in together, one day her daughter introduced Paul to her friend as Estelle’s boyfriend.
“I said, ‘Wait a minute, we’re too old for this. You either marry me or get out,’ and we got married,” she said, laughing.
In March 1981, the couple married at a country club and, unlike her previous weddings, her parents attended, with her dad walking her down the aisle.
“I thought I had died and gone to heaven,” she said. “Because my dad was my rock, he would bail me out all the time. He never gave up on me. He was always there.”
Ten days before Christmas 1981, Estelle’s father stood outside in the cold. Sweeping snow off the cars, he fell to the pavement, dead. Called to the morgue, Estelle arrived first and had to identify him. As she looked at her father, she made a promise to “clean up” her act and “make a better life” for herself.
“I lived on that promise for 14 years after that, of not doing any drinking, seeking a better way of life, and it worked,” she said.
From there, she began attending a nondenominational church, invited by a female friend. The woman also invited her to attend a recovery program, and Estelle attended her first meeting in 1983.
Over time, she “kind of” slipped away from her meetings, and in August 1996, at her nephew’s wedding, Estelle relapsed. Held at an outdoor venue, the wedding was delayed, and she took a drink and ended up “getting so drunk” she never saw him get married. On Aug. 5, she returned to her program.
The hardest part was telling her children she had relapsed after 14 years, starting a process of working to regain their trust and earn their forgiveness.
‘Off and running’
With another treatment, Vickie found sobriety for a year before relapsing once more. In 2007, she lost her job and moved to Shawano with a friend, stating she wouldn’t drink. However, working in a gas station, she saw the alcohol being sold there and decided to purchase a half-pint, keeping it in a closet for “just in case.” Within in two weeks, she drank it.
“And I was off and running,” she said. Ending up in detox, Vickie received a call from her middle daughter, telling her she was going to have to return to Beacon. “I don’t think so,” she said. Her daughter threatened to drop her off at a homeless shelter and be done with her.
Vickie went to Beacon House for her fifth inpatient treatment.
She stayed for four months, beginning to rebuild the relationships with her daughters and applying for 60 jobs. The director told her she had never seen anyone so determined to get a job, she recalled.
On the third week of the fourth month, Vickie said, she found a job at a factory and a place to live. She continued to attend groups at Beacon and four meetings a week.
For Vickie, the meetings provided a place of comfort and shared experience, as well as accountability.
“I will not walk back into a meeting and say, ‘I drank a glass of champagne and (threw) 10 years down the tubes,’ ” she said.
In 2010, Vickie began working at the place that had helped her — Beacon House — as a resident aide and administrative assistant on nights and weekends. She assists clients in nighttime hours if they need someone to talk to, and she teaches them how to cook and gives them tips for everyday living.
Continuing sobriety
Close to both Estelle’s and Vickie’s hearts is Gratitude Club, a place of fellowship for those in recovery from addiction.
Estelle works behind the coffee counter, serving up beverages and conversation to those she calls her “family.”
“I feel like it’s ‘Cheers,’” Vickie said. “And what a cool feeling, because how many bars did I used to walk into and people would say, ‘It’s just that girl.’”
In addition to Gratitude Club, Estelle began attending Grace Reformed Church, where the pastor led a Celebrate Recovery group, which bridges the Bible and staying sober through readings and group discussion.
The pages of her Celebrate Recovery Bible are folded and marked with her penmanship — the signs of a well-loved text.
From Celebrate Recovery, she began volunteering at the local jail where she runs meetings of another recovery program. And, like Vickie, she volunteers at Beacon House to sponsor women and serve in a support role for their recovery.
As part of her job, Vickie gets to put together Beacon’s memory book. The process is emotionally draining, seeing those who have made it and those who have not.
“The success rate is not very good, and you just never know,” said Estelle, adding that as of July, she knew six people who had died from drugs or alcohol. “But you know, if we give up, they have no hope, because I’m not alone on this quest in wanting to reach the lost.”