I met *Bryce about 20 or so years ago when I was working on an assignment for my university course about alcoholism. Sitting across the table from him at the Salvation Army in Surry Hills, it was easy to recall that I had seen him before, getting on the train at Town Hall Station. He was hard to miss, covered as he was in tattoos, mostly unprofessional, including a huge one scrawled across his neck that spelt out a girls’ name; *Jenny. As intimidating as he appeared, he came across as warm, gentle, affable and vulnerable. He told me that “Jenny” was the name of his young daughter, who was now in care. Her mother was still living the life of an addict but he had opted, a few years ago, to completely change things. One day, he simply woke up and decided to give up alcohol, cigarettes and heroin.