Editor’s Note: September is National Drug and Alcohol Addiction Recovery Month. To celebrate the success of treatment and recovery programs, and to inspire people struggling with substance abuse and addiction, a dozen Mainers agreed to share their personal stories. “Recovery Works” features these profiles each Thursday in the Well-Being section, replacing the “Finding a Fix” column today and through September.

During the war in Vietnam, heroin, opium and speed were all readily available. Alcohol was delivered regularly to American troops, no matter where they were hunkered down in that devastated land. “They had to anesthetize you somehow,” recalls Kenneth Allen, who was only 17 when he joined the Army in the late 1960s. “I had a pretty good habit going by the time I was discharged.”

Public hostility toward Vietnam veterans and inadequate mental health services pushed him deeper into drug use, extinguishing his family’s dream that he would follow in his brother’s path and become one of the first black police officers in their home town of Boston. In 1979, trying to stay ahead of some legal troubles, Kenneth moved to central Maine along with his first wife and their 2-year-old daughter. He worked steadily at a series of “legitimate” jobs but continued to both use drugs and sell them.

Now 56, Kenneth is currently serving a two-and-a-half-year sentence at the Maine State Prison in Warren for trafficking in illegal substances. And though it would be easy to get his hands on just about any kind of drug he wants, he says he’s clean for good.

“Staying clean in prison, you’ve got to get real with yourself,” he said. “I keep myself busy. I take time to read and to pray ….You’ve got to really work the 12 steps. If you don’t do the work, you don’t find the miracle.” He remains close to his daughter and credits her support with helping him to stay on track.

Kenneth spends a good part of his time now advocating for fellow inmates who violate the rules at the prison. When he is released, he plans to attend Central Maine Community College in Lewiston and eventually find work as a substance abuse counselor. “When you’ve done what I’ve done and lived like I’ve lived,” he said, “the only thing that makes you happy is helping people who are suffering like I did.”