The Victim’s Tale

From the age of nine, he wanted to be a Catholic priest. His seminary yearbook labeled him “devout.” Devout was not enough, however, to stem massive headaches, the prelude to severe mental illness. He left St. Mary’s Seminary in Baltimore in 1964, his fourth year of studies, with a broken mind and a broken heart.

Ex-seminarian soon became ex-mental patient as he stumbled five times in an out of mental institutions. Half the patients had serious psychiatric problems. The other half were drug addicted. Then a ranting lunatic, a paramedic responsible for his care told him, “I was in Vietnam. I saw men with their hands and legs blown off. But when I was over there, I never met anybody as screwed up as you.” How could a loving God allow such a noble goal to end in such a disaster? Many would remember him solely as the ex-seminarian, the ex-mental patient for as long as he lived.

The Victor’s Tale

timothy w mccarthy — President Franklin Roosevelt listens as the author’s father, Timothy W. McCarthy, addresses the nation on the NBC and CBS radio networks on June 14, 1933.

A graduate of Loyola University on the Dean’s List, he was a social activist. He proudly stood at the Washington Monument as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. announced, “I have a dream.” He too had dreams. In his final semester at Loyola he wrote, “I hope to build bridges of understanding though build them I must of words rather than of wood.” Though freed of the curse of addiction himself, the disease plagued his ancestors.

He chose to work among the addicted, first as a parole agent then he cross-trained as a certified drug counselor. Fifteen years into the field he wrote: “Unhooking the Hooked Generation” published nationally by the American Probation and Parole Association in 1987. For the first time, the courts and the recovering community were welded together in a systemic way that recognized the unique contributions of both. Dr. Thomas Cargiulo, former Director of the MD Addiction Services Administration wrote a letter confirming this pioneering blueprint. The judges significantly improved his work. It is used today in 3,000 courtrooms.

Retiring from active addictions work, he turned his attention to an action Hollywood film on opioid recovery. Vetted through ten years’ work with professional Hollywood agents it was completed in April of 2019. A film more action-packed than EASY RIDER it carries a very different message.

What connects the two tales is that they are accurate portrayals from different points of view of the same Timothy A. McCarthy. The next time an ex-mental patient makes violent headlines with a shootout in some school or shopping mall, please remember they are not all like that.

Insanity is not a death sentence. I proved this by publicly documenting my permanent healing. I wove it into my Hollywood recovery screenplay, TAKIN’ BACK THE STREETS. Agent Phil McGuire’s heroin recovery is an allegory for my own victory over madness. Had I not lived among the addicted during my institutional experiences I would not have uncovered opioid recovery answers. Mine is a hopeful outcome to a journey I never planned.

From Prisoner to Liberator

Entering Spring Grove Hospital grounds, a three-story dungeon on the right resembles a penitentiary more than a hospital. Known as “the psychopathic building,” it was condemned and closed more than 25 years ago. As its huge, high gates slammed shut behind me on 1/8/68, I said, to no one in particular, “If I could put God in a bottle I would smash the bottle.” It was a tragic statement from a man who had hoped to be ordained to the Catholic priesthood in May of that same year.

When Spring Grove sold off the farm portion of their property, the Maryland government built the Catonsville District Court on what had once been the actual hospital grounds. Located less than a mile from the “dungeon” I was assigned there as a State Probation Agent for the Court in 1981. In that court building in 1987, I wrote the document that changed drug court treatment across the United States. Unfolding over 19 years, I moved from prisoner to national liberator of the drug addicted. A copy of “Unhooking the Hooked Generation” can be viewed here.

In my film, TAKIN’ BACK THE STREETS, one of the strange collections of antagonist, Ralph Rodriguez, is his MUSEUM OF DEATH. Enraged as he alone remains after the loss of his Colombian family he seeks not only to kill but to make a record of classic murders across the centuries. In the third floor of his dark mansion, we find histories of the French guillotine, the Aztec murders of 50,000 a year to please the sun god, the bizarre drownings conducted by Blackbeard the Pirate.

Granted permission by appropriate state authorities, the psychopathic building will become the MUSEUM OF DEATH in my film.

The screenplay is my version of ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST. The difference is that my story ends in redemption.

Reach Dying Drug Fugitives?

Nervous breakdowns four and five occurred after I began employment as a state parole agent. Sick leave and supportive employers protected me. But the criminal justice system offered no “time out” option for failing drug addicts. These addicts threatened innocent citizens as much as themselves. Guided by my own institutional experiences I created a new procedure. It is better witnessed in a five-minute video than explained:

World’s Fastest Drug Recovery:

I have used this procedure more than 100 times over the years. Without exception, judges have supported it.

Lightning Strike

Insanity struck me like a lightning bolt on August 20, 1964. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know how to stop it. Like a caged beast, I paced the floor and babbled impossibilities about my present and future. People around me seemed to be changing. I couldn’t perceive that I was the person changing. In this scenario, adrenaline pumps like an open fire hose as it tries to respond to crises it can’t understand. This adrenaline rush creates the appearance of what some describe as, “the strength of the insane.”

Witnesses

Two people close to this chaos were my sister Celia Wendel and Joseph Rosier, a retired supervisor at Spring Grove. Both are willing to be interviewed.

My sister, Celia, offered her prayers and companionship at all times. My other sister, Ellen, offered me residence in her home. Both were as puzzled as I was about what had happened to me.

During my four visits to Spring Grove Joe Rosier, the recreation supervisor, offered activities for every opportunity. His ever-present smile made all feel welcome.

When madness struck, my adrenaline rush was frequent and continuing. The hospital had an enclosed area where we played football. I can still see the dismay on Joe’s face as the kickoff came to me. He knew that no one on the field would be able to put two hands on me before I reached the end zone. As time passed the adrenaline rush passed. I became not much faster than anyone else.

Resemblance to Persons Living or Dead is NOT Coincidental

class of 68 — Fifty Years Later.
St. Mary’s Seminary: Class of “68”.

One of the network news anchors spoke of role modeling as a way to teach drug recovery. A good Idea but one with built-in barriers. Federal law forbids the release of actual case histories.

Many are uncomfortable publicly sharing the failures of their past. Beyond that the NA and AA fellowships require anonymity at the level of press, radio, and television. AA’s cofounder, Bill Wilson, turned down a story in Time Magazine because it would compromise anonymity.

I circumvented the barriers by putting real people in fictional settings. I’ve told my story publicly since 1979. Heroin addict Phil McGuire’s recovery parallels my own triumph over mental illness. My heroine, Angela West, is an old flame of mine who never used any drug stronger than tobacco.

Below is the final photograph of Father Maximilian Kolbe. Because of the way the Nazi’s murdered him at Auschwitz, he is known as “the patron saint of drug addicts.”

My Father Maximilian Kolbe leads the drug counter-strike to take back Baltimore’s streets. The real-life Father Kolbe seems to be a character out of a Dickens’ novel. When a prisoner at Auschwitz was pulled from a lineup and sentenced to starve to death the prisoner screamed out in despair. Father Kolbe stepped forward to take his place. Surviving without food for 14 days the Nazis wanted Kolbe dead and murdered him by lethal injection.

Because of the way he was executed, the Catholic Church honors him as a special intercessor for drug addicts. Time Magazine chronicled the man they called “The Angel of Auschwitz,” on 10/25/82.

When illness forced me to leave St. Mary’s Seminary in the winter of 1964, Jack Murphy, S.J. agreed to be my mentor at Loyola University. When madness struck the following summer, he visited me in the mental institutions, brought me books to read, and offered spiritual advice. Each time I fell, he helped me stand again. In 1974, he officiated at my wedding. He was my best friend for 25 years until his death in 1989.

The priest in my film has the courage of Fr. Kolbe but the compassion of Jack Murphy. In the later years of his priesthood, he retooled his academic career to do mission work in the United States. He would laugh as he often said, “I am the poor man’s Billy Graham, but I will be honored posthumously.”

Perhaps, Jack. Perhaps.

First Blueprint to Address the Opioid Crisis

Pictured is a Baltimore City Drug Court graduation ceremony from 2014. It is part of the larger National Drug Court Institute (NDCI) which operates today on a $165 million budget. The program began quietly in the Catonsville District Court Building on July 1, 1985. Originally titled the Catonsville High-Risk Drug Project the program offered a variety of inpatient alternatives before requesting a warrant. A chance for “time out” preceded a call for time served.

The pilot project, involving 82 people, held recidivism (monitored by the Maryland State Police) under 6% over one-year. Results were published nationally in 1987. The first four Drug Court Graduates appeared with me on three local television stations in the Summer and Fall of 1989.

Also, in 1989 the nine key elements of my approach were adopted by what would become the NDCI for a program in Miami-Dade County, Florida. Today my original blueprint, with significant judicial improvements, operates in courtrooms across the United States and Canada.