From Roads to Recovery: A Supplement of The Independent Petrolia and Central Lambton
Doug Waybrant has been sober for 37 years and says he knows a thing or two about it.
"Listen to me," says the 83-year-old. "I've seen it all. I have so many stories, some you would not believe. But they're true. I know what I'm talking about."
Waybrant was born in 1943 and grew up in Bright's Grove with 10 siblings. When his father drank, he hit the kids, Waybrant said.
He first tasted alcohol when he was in Grade 7 behind the Bright's Grove variety store. He remembers sharing a bottle of sweet Mogen David wine with a buddy.
"I thought, 'This is fun,' and I never looked back."
For decades, Waybrant lived a life of truancy, reform school, and jail. He drank daily, smoked hash oil and became addicted to 222 tablets, an over-the-counter pain reliever containing codeine.
He spent years busking, sometimes managing a temporary job, and says he married twice. He travelled across Canada and was arrested regularly for theft, break-ins and assault.
It was a hard life jammed with misadventure, said Waybrant, but sobriety at age 46 brought some stability. He got his driver's licence and a job moving furniture. He learned to control his temper and to think before he acted.
He also thought a lot about what helps get people into recovery and what keeps them there.
Government should take more action, he said.
"I want a new federal law that says if you're drunk and passed out on the sidewalk, you must be taken to detox, not the drunk tank. That's what saved me," he said.
And Canada badly needs affordable housing. Without a safe place to live, recovery isn't possible, said Waybrant.
"You can't get clean on the street. I've slept in parks. I know what it's like to be dirty and to need a meal. It gives you a bad attitude," he said. "How the heck are you going to clean up?"
He was living in a rented room in Winnipeg when he went into recovery. Ironically, it was a police officer who helped him, a surprise since Waybrant had always regarded the law as the enemy.
It was 1989 and he had been drinking for 30 years.
"I was right out of it. I'd smashed the window at my place," he said.
"This young officer said, 'I'm going to give you a cup of coffee and we're going to talk and we're going to make a deal.'"
Waybrant told him he didn't want to make a deal. He just wanted to be left alone in a jail cell.
"But he said I wasn't going there. Instead he took me to the Salvation Army on Winnipeg's east side, and they put me in the basement there for three months to detox. They took care of me and fed me."
He embraced the opportunity.
"I was tired of having no life at all. I was tired of being in jail."
He hasn't had a drink or taken a pill since. While in detox, he started attending 12-step programs and proudly wears a ring of medallions around his neck to celebrate his sobriety.
"I've done 24 steps, maybe more," he said.
"I've decided I am never going back to pills or drinking or marijuana. It's a fear I have that I don't want to go back in jail." He even quit smoking three years ago.
Waybrant can't shake the memory of one experience he had at the Winnipeg Salvation Army.
He was invited to walk outside to a dumpster with a volunteer who appeared to be throwing out a tray of sandwiches.
"He said to me, 'Take a look down inside that dumpster, Doug.' And I looked and said there's a bunch of animals in there eating the sandwiches. He said, no, those are humans just like you who will eat anything in that dumpster. If you mess up when you leave here, you're going to end up in there."
Waybrant returned to Sarnia several years ago and initially lived in the shelter system.
In 2023, he was offered a basement room rental for $700 a month. His $1,000 disability cheque more than covered the cost and he jumped at the chance.
"But it turned out that it wasn't a good place for me," he said. "There were people taking drugs in that house and there was a bad bug problem."
He thought he'd have to return to the street.
But a friend put him in contact with Lambton County housing and a worker there helped him search for a new room.
"I was told the waiting list for an apartment I can afford is 300 people long. There's nothing out there to rent," Waybrant said. He finally found a room in a house on Brock Street with a family that recently moved to a house on Christina Street South and agreed he could move with them.
"We're all trying to make it work," he said. "But it's hard because I'm this old guy and they are young."
He pays $1,000 a month for room and board and says it's affordable for him because he has his Ontario Social Assistance cheque to top up his income.
"But here's my plan. Oh, you'll love this one," he said drawing closer. "I like the tiny homes like what they're doing in London.
"Not everyone's going to get along with me. I know that, so I want somewhere that's independent.
"I'm 83 years old and I don't smoke and I don't drink and I don't take drugs. I'd just like a place of my own."
