ABSTRACT
Two odors permeated the room. One was the smell of very strong coffee. The other was cigarette smoke. Richard looked around the room and was amazed by the assembly of people. Somehow the diversity of the group surprised him. He had half expected most of the patrons to be old, sad looking, and pale. But this group represented the diversity of society. He watched swirls of smoke rise toward the ceiling and wondered if he really had the courage to be here. He sipped the too strong coffee from his styrofoam cup and thought for about the thousandth time how he had got ten to this point in his life. Somehow the last thought was relatively com forting. He had lived. Despite all that he had done he was still alive and on the verge of surviving a battle that he had been waging for nearly two de cades. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he moved toward the front of the room. He could feel the eyes watching him as he walked down the narrow aisle between the rows of chairs. He stepped to the microphone and pre pared to say the words that until just a few months before he would never acknowledge.
