A Hand Held in the Dark
A temperance worker shares a story of reclaiming a man from the grip of alcohol on the streets of Aberdeen.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
On Saturday evening I was led to a Gospel temperance meeting. The hall was upstairs and the windows were open. The music came floating down to us on the street, and a hush seemed to have come upon everything around us, as the words, 'Home, sweet home,' rang out clear and distinct. Standing under the window, his face upturned, was a man with the unmistakable signs of a drunkard upon his clothes, face and form. As the melody ceased, his face went down into his hands and he groaned aloud. I put my hand upon his arm and asked, 'What is it, my friend?' He answered, 'Tis them words, ma'am, them words, 'Home, sweet home.' I had a home once, but I lost it and everything else, through drink.' I invited him up. He thanked me and said his clothes were not fit; but I finally conquered, by urging that it was a long flight of stairs and he could hold me up. At the close I read the pledge and asked him to sign it. He said, 'Do you suppose I could write my name if God hold my hand?' I opened my Bible to Isaiah 41:13. A new hope came into his eyes as he exclaimed, 'I've tried a good many times alone, now here goes for God and me, and we will see what we can do.' His name went down upon the pledge. That was years ago, and he has kept his pledge.
“I've tried a good many times alone, now here goes for God and me, and we will see what we can do.”
This story captures the 19th-century focus on moral salvation to address the social instability caused by alcoholism. Today, the conversation in Aberdeen has shifted toward harm reduction and clinical support, yet the fundamental struggle for a stable 'home' remains a primary point of civic tension.
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