Chapter 5 
Chapter 5 Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.
—JAMES 1:23–24, NIV
AL: When my senior year in high school started in the fall of 1981, I only needed four credit hours to graduate, so I did not have to go to school full-time. I went to school half a day each weekday, and to fill the rest of my time and make some money, I got a job sacking groceries at a Big Star supermarket and another job hauling hay. My job at Big Star did not last long because I did things like cut the bottoms out of egg boxes so all the eggs would fall on the floor when the manager picked them up. And I don’t think it helped much that I also tumbled through the ceiling one day when I ventured into an off-limits area upstairs and landed on the meat counter between the ground beef and the pot roasts.
In spite of all my antics and the bad choices I made, I remained a good student. I kept my grades up even when everything else in my life was plummeting down. The worst thing about being sixteen and a senior was the attitude that came along with it. I thought I was a stud, and I wanted everyone to know it.
In those days, hanging out at McDonald’s was a cool thing for teenagers to do. Of course, since I was so cool (in my own mind), I spent a lot of time under the golden arches. We leaned against our cars in the parking lot, with radios blaring, just kind of talking with each other. I did a lot of that in my senior year. One day, a gorgeous blonde caught my attention—and she can pick up the story from this point.
LISA: I was so excited to go to high school, partly because I thought being in high school was cool, but mostly because I knew Al would be at the same school, and I could hardly wait to see him again. As a tenth grader, I would be the “new kid” and he would be a senior, but that did not matter to me.
I did not realize when school started that year that Al was no longer the “Mr. Nice Guy” I knew from Pinecrest. His life had taken a negative turn during his high school years, and he was hanging out with my cousin, drinking and smoking pot. I had felt a connection to him for several years by this time, and I did not let his new way of life affect my infatuation. He had a girlfriend during his senior year, though, so once again, he was oblivious to me.
Every weekend during the school year and most nights during the summer, the McDonald’s parking lot in our town was full of teenagers. I went to McDonald’s one night in that fall of 1981 and it finally happened: Al noticed me in line behind him at the drive-through. He got out of the car, walked up to my window, and asked, “What are you doing?”
All I could say was, “Waiting on you.”
I went to McDonald’s one night in that fall of 1981 and it finally happened:
Al noticed me.
Right then and there, he asked me out on a date for the following Friday night. I was so excited! My dream was coming true!
When he talks about that moment in the drive-through line, he says he noticed me because I had really grown up since my days as an awkward middle school stalker. He thought I was a “babe,” and that’s why he asked me out.
Over the next several days, I could hardly wait for the weekend. Al had asked me to meet him in West Monroe, and I thought maybe that was because both of us lived several miles outside of town. I wished he had offered to pick me up but tried not to let those bad manners bother me. I was too happy simply to be going out with him.
When I arrived at the place where I was supposed to meet Al, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on my head. He was not alone! Two of my cousins were with him. I could hardly believe it. Who wants to go on a date with their cousins tagging along?
My cousins were just as wild as Al. None of them was a good influence on the others. I knew how my cousins were living, so having them along on the date did nothing to make me feel protected. They were an unwelcome part of this night I had looked forward to for so long, and I felt a little self-conscious because I thought they were influencing Al in the worst ways. Like most young girls, I just wanted to be alone with my date. I didn’t want an audience.
The “date” was terrible. It consisted of the four of us riding around in a car while the guys drank and smoked pot. One of my cousins drove and the other sat in the passenger seat. Al and I sat in the backseat. I’ll just say that he was accustomed to backseats, but I was not. Having my cousins in the car and being in the backseat with a guy for the first time made me feel terribly awkward. After all, I was only fifteen years old.
When driving around ceased to be fun for my cousins, they headed for a strip club. My two cousins went inside, creating the perfect opportunity for Al to start making out with me, and I went along with it. Pretty soon, Al passed out in the car, and I just sat there beside him, deeply disappointed, angry, uneasy about the whole evening, and feeling very unsafe in the parking lot of a strip club. For years, I had thought Al was a nice guy—maybe even a gentleman. That night, he proved me wrong. But I was still crazy about him.
When Al talks about this time in our lives, he says that people would think our relationship could only get better after such a bad start. He knows he made a bad first impression and says he really thought he was a stud. But the truth is, things between us only got worse.
I was a “good girl”—and a virgin—when Al and I started dating. I had seen how alcohol affected my sister, but other than that I had not been around much drinking or any drug use (with the exception of some of my extended family who came around my grandmother’s house when I was little). Al was eager to be my teacher, so over the next month or so I began drinking and smoking with him.
I really cared about Al, and he knew it. He could tell I was willing to do anything to please him. He acknowledges now that he pushed me to take our relationship to “the next level,” using the classic line “If you love me, you’ll give yourself fully to me.”
He also admits he did not love me at all; he just wanted me in a physical way, and I lost my virginity to him when I was in tenth grade. Of course, he had no idea how my abuser had treated me and how that abuse had affected me. He did not realize how vulnerable I was or that saying no to him would have been almost impossible for me. I had been strong enough to tell off a grown man when I confronted the man who molested me after my grandfather’s funeral just a few months earlier, but I had a weak spot for Al. I was willing, even eager, to do whatever he wanted to do.
Al admits he did not love me at all; he just wanted me in a physical way, and I lost my virginity to him when I was in tenth grade.
Not only was I head-over-heels crazy for Al, I was also building a good relationship with his family. Soon after we started dating, he introduced me to his parents, grandparents, and brothers. We began spending time at their house—not a lot, because Al was still hiding his lifestyle from them, but we were around them enough for me to know that I really liked them and felt comfortable with them.
That spring and summer, I thought I was in heaven! I was finally dating the man I had loved since sixth grade. I knew the way our relationship was going was not the way love was supposed to go, but who was I to say what love was really “supposed” to be like? We were physically intimate, and I was convinced we would be “in love” forever—and Al seemed content to let me believe that. I dreamed of dating him until I finished high school, then marrying him and living happily ever after. But Al had other plans.
AL: I should have known my bad behavior would catch up with me, but like most teenage boys, I never even thought about that possibility. One day, a friend’s mother called my mom to say she did not think I was a good influence on him and she did not want the two of us hanging around together anymore. This was major because almost everyone viewed him as one of the wildest guys in town. People would have thought he was a bad influence on me. When Miss Kay heard what his mother said, she had to pay attention, even though she had always respected me and thought highly of me. I am sure that the thought that I might be a troublemaker was extremely hard on her, but my mom has always been one to face and deal with the truth when confronted with it.
Things got worse for me when my old girlfriend’s father drove his pickup truck up to talk to my parents and me about a plumbing issue at his house. He was furious! I wasn’t home at the time, but I heard about it loud and clear after I got home. His plumber had blamed the clogged pipes on all the condoms that had been flushed down the toilet while my girlfriend and I were dating. Instead of manning up and admitting to my parents that the condoms were mine, I basically said, “Yeah, that girl sure does sleep around. Can you believe all those condoms in the pipes? I mean, the reason I broke up with her is that she was sleeping with so many guys.” That was not true, but I was afraid of her father and afraid of what my own father would do if he found out I really was responsible for that problem. So I lied, and I think my parents believed me at the time. Once again, I was willing to trash someone else’s reputation to make myself look better. What a selfish creep!
These two big incidents happened along with other seemingly minor offenses involving things like drinking, smoking pot, wrecking cars, disrespecting people’s property, and other bad behavior. At this point, I was my father’s son: I could see the writing on the wall. Just as Dad quit his first teaching job in Junction City when he realized he was about to be fired over his drinking and carousing, I also saw that I was about to be in serious trouble. Not only did I see it, the Duck Commander himself and Miss Kay finally realized the truth about the way I was living and laid down the law. I could no longer live in their house and continue my lifestyle. I would have to shape up and abide by their rules, or I would have to move out. I finally told the truth about the way I was living, but I also chose to leave so I could continue living on my own terms.