Natalie Yemenidjian
***The following story is the revised version of the article published in the Roundup Dec. 12, 2007.***
No one would dare cross the path of Raul Morales 12 years ago.If you saw the 6-foot, 5-inch, tattooed man then, you’d have known instantly you wouldn’t want to mess with him.
Now, when the 50-year-old Pierce College student stands up to reveal his daunting height, he reaches for anything he can get his hands on: tables, door handles, or his 4-foot, 11-inch wife for support.
His knees were replaced after jumping off a second-story building to get away from drug-induced paranoia.
Morales’s body will feel the pangs of 32 years of alcoholism, 27 years of dealing drugs and 17 years of being in a gang, for the rest of his life. Six kids and a wife answered to Morales’s lifestyle as well.
“The time I got busted, I was looking at a seven year prison term,” said Morales. “My life was a mess. I had six children and a wife, and for the first time I thought ‘Who’s going to take care of my kids?’ But in reality, it was my wife the whole time.”
He did jail time in almost every county jail in California, yet never served state time.
When he walked down the streets of the projects he used to live in, deal in and gangbang in, he thought people looked at him with respect. Now he knows, it was fear.
He got out of the gang culture the same way he got in, through disassociation.
He spent a year to destroy the person he had become over three decades.
Alcoholism has been a part of his heritage. From his grandfather to his father, his family tree has been rooted in a history with what he refers to as an “illness.”
It came to a point where Morales could no longer blame his father for choices he had to take responsibility for.
“He’s been dead for 15 years. I wish that he could put his arms around me so I could look into his eyes and tell him that it’s okay, and that I forgive him and that I don’t have to die the way he and his brothers died,” said Morales.
He was becoming a monster and his greatest enabler was his wife. She had always told her kids “what happens in the house stays in the house.”
The hands of the law could get Morales for drug-related charges and DUIs, but it couldn’t get to him for not being a good father and husband.
“You think you’re doing a good thing. You’re trying to be a good mom, but you realize damage has been done,” said Maria Morales, his wife. “I made my kids liars.”
A pivotal point in Morales’s recovery was 11 years ago in the month of December.
“We had our Christmas tree out, with nice big ornaments and lots of presents, and they all got broken and the tree got smashed, because my dad had a flashback thinking the tree was my grandpa,” said Jasmin Morales, 18, his daughter. “The next day, we all woke up and he was on the floor next to the tree. Seven days later, we hadn’t heard from him, and then he called. He was locked up.”
Jasmin, told her father, at the age of seven, that it was better he was locked up. He couldn’t do bad things and no bad men from the street could get to him.
He would later tell this unorthodox Christmas story to the support groups that gave him and his family the tools and mantras that he carries with him daily.
Maria took on two jobs at times in order to support their six children. Meanwhile, Morales was threatening to kill her if she left. Completely alone, Maria was the victim of a culture that would not accept separation or worse, divorce.
She called her mother in Guadalajara, Mexico, asking her if she could take refuge from a country whose language and laws she hardly knew. She should’ve known; the family couldn’t take back a divorced woman.
Maria and welfare became the children’s sole providers.The Morales’ eldest son, Rudy, took on the brunt of his father’s addiction; he carries into the future what his father wishes he could erase from the past.
“My biggest memory I have of my dad is that he used to be my hero. When I had to take his place and be the man of the house, he died to me,” said Rudy.
At a young age, Rudy had to grow up fast and take responsibility for his brothers, sisters and sometimes his mom.”When I was 13, my dad went real deep into his stuff; I was their dad for 17 years,” said Rudy. “I was also my mothers right-hand-man.”
Out of all the kids, he took the longest to forgive his father.
“Now, it’s more like a friendship. For the most part, we are more friends than we are father and son,” said Rudy.
When Morales isn’t at home with his extended family–he lives with his wife, son, daughter and grandchild, as well as “adopted” families living with him–he’s teaching a DUI class in Van Nuys or cheering someone on in a support group.
There are about 10 to 12 kids that call him grandpa. He takes in families that are recovering from alcoholism or domestic abuse. Some just needed help.
“You want to change the world. But, I can’t change anybody. All I can do is change me and the way I confront life on life’s terms,” said Morales.
It isn’t always easy helping others.
“I was working with a young boy in this neighborhood, right around this street. He was so happy getting clean and sober,” said Morales from his home in the San Fernando Valley. “He was giving testimony on how much he changed. We were going to go to a meeting that evening. The evening he got killed.”
The young boy was at a friend’s house “delivering the message” at the wrong place and the wrong time.
Morales carries pens in the pocket of his long-sleeved shirts to cover his arms, which are a museum of remnants from his sordid past.
On his first day of school at Pierce, Morales, then 49, sat in his car an hour before his first class, shaking with fear.
Little did he know that he would consecutively make the Dean’s list for two semesters.
“My story is not unique, I know a lot of people who were able to come up and out of drug addiction, they have also inspired me,” said Morales.
Equipped with a backpack on wheels and a big slurpy cup to carry with him on his long days at Pierce, Morales also flaunts an infectious smile.
“I walk around this campus with a smile, and make them think about how good life is,” said Morales. “People walk by me and they’re no longer afraid to cross my path.”
With 9-month-old grandson Jimmy, Morales hopes to be a good role model to others seeking change. ()
Morales with, from left, daughter Jasmin, grandson Jimmy and wife Maria. Jasmin is planning on enrolling at Pierce next fall, also in addiction studies. ()