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Chronic Drunk Driver Denies Son’s Account of Suffering

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Ronald W. Cram sat in his yellow jail-issued jumpsuit Friday, looking at the ground as he listened to the words of his teenage son being read.

At every turn, he denied assertions made in the letter--that his drinking had ruined his family, that he was home, drunk, while his son underwent open-heart surgery and when the boy graduated from junior high school--but wasn’t surprised by them. Then, halfway through the letter, the 52-year-old construction worker, who has been arrested more than a dozen times on suspicion of drunk driving, calmly put down the telephone receiver and walked away, descending a flight of stairs to go back to his jail cell.

“I’m not going to answer any more questions,” Ronald Cram said in an interview from the Orange County Jail in Santa Ana. He also asserts that it was his estranged wife, Kay Cram, who was behind the letter, not his son. He stated last week, after his arrest, that he does not have a drinking problem and that he could quit drinking any time. He said he went camping and fishing with his son, whom he said was 17, although he could not remember what grade he was in.

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The son, who is 16, said he wrote the letter Tuesday, after reading a news account of an interview in which Ronald Cram said his drinking hasn’t caused any problems for his family. His mother confirmed the contents of the letter.

(The Times is not naming the son because he is a juvenile.)

The high school sophomore said he wrote partly out of anger at his father for minimizing the pain that he and his mother have lived through. And he wrote partly to express in words what he has tried to tell his father in person.

“Through all of this, I still love my dad and all,” the teen said in an interview. “I just don’t understand why he does what he does, and I don’t understand what enjoyment he gets out of it.”

Ronald Cram was arrested twice this year by Santa Ana police in a pilot project to catch the most egregious among suspected drunk drivers. Such projects address the public safety side of alcoholism, but the problem cannot help but reach into the private lives of children.

The lanky teenager was born with a hole in his heart, but said the real void of his life was losing his father to alcoholism.

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While the 16-year-old was suffering from what’s known as aortic valvular disease, he watched his father drink himself to unconsciousness and repeatedly be carted off to jail for driving drunk.

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As his son was undergoing open-heart surgery, Ronald Cram was home drinking with a buddy, said the teen’s mother, Kay Cram. Ronald Cram was reeking of alcohol when he arrived at the hospital after the surgery was over, she said.

“I hate him. I hate him,” Kay Cram recalled her son saying afterward.

Ronald Cram denied that ever happened. In Friday’s interview, he said, “I was there. I was there the whole time. The only time I went home was to check the mail and make sure the animals were all right.”

He also denied being home drunk during his son’s junior high school graduation ceremony, which the boy alleged.

“I was at work,” Cram said.

And similarly, the reason he showed up at a camping trip five hours late was because of work, not his drinking, he said.

Alcoholism is recognized as a disease by medical authorities, who said Cram’s case is a classic example of an alcoholic who is in denial.

The teen and his mother said they have been trying to help him, thinking that if he realizes the extent of his problem, he will change and become a husband and father again. But every time either of them tries to talk to him, he either walks away or “closes it out with a beer,” Kay Cram said.

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Last May, the mother and son left Cram, taking only a few bags of clothes and other essentials. They slept in her car for two nights while looking for an apartment. They later decorated their new home with odds and ends, some of which the mother took from trash bins because she couldn’t afford furniture.

On Christmas, the teen said, his father arrived saying he was sorry that he couldn’t afford a present. Yet, the man was holding a 12-pack of beer in his hand, the son said. Then on his son’s 16th birthday, Ronald Cram promised to visit but never showed up.

Her son “had cooked spaghetti and made his own birthday cake,” said Kay Cram, a part-time bus driver.

For the most part, the teen said, he has tried to forget about the past. He began competitive swimming and improved his time by 30 seconds within a month, his coach Famous Hooks said.

“He’s worked really, really hard. He’s a super kid. He gives you 100% all the time,” said Hooks, who suffered from asthma as a child and said he is constantly watching the boy to make sure he’s not overdoing it.

“I had to back him off because I was afraid that he would get sick out there. . . . But apparently, swimming has helped him. He’s doing better.”

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On weekends, Kay Cram and her son pack up their fishing poles and head out to Irvine Lake or the Huntington Beach Pier to fish, the boy’s favorite pastime. And just the other night, he hugged his mother and told her that he feels as though he “can breathe better now.”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

‘Open Letter to Dad: Please Stop’

The Times received this from the son of Ronald W. Cram, described by a police officer as “a fatal accident waiting to happen” when arrested last week on what could be his 12th drunk-driving conviction. The son responds to comments his father made in an interview--that his drinking caused no problems for anyone:

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Open Letter To My Dad, Ronald W. Cram

You say your drinking doesn’t cause problems.

Q. Ask my dad where he had to go on the day I was born.

A. Jail, spending weekends for D.U.I.

Q. Ask my dad where he was for the first 10 years of my life.

A. Jail every year for D.U.I.

Q. Ask my dad where he was on 8-8-94 when I had open heart surgery.

A. Home drinking with Johnny P., and mom found you smoking and drinking in the bedroom that was to be smoke-free for me.

Q. Ask my dad where he was for my junior high graduation.

A. Over at Mac’s drinking. You said it wasn’t important enough, like high school graduation.

Q. He says he camps and takes me fishing. When was that, Dad? 6-91. Mom and I got there first to get the camp site. You came five hours later drunk, couldn’t put the tent up and fell through it. Then you fell in the middle of the camp of people next to us.

Q. Ask my dad why I don’t smoke, drink or use drugs. Because I’ve seen it kill my Aunt Marna and Uncle Richie. I’ve seen it take over your every living moment. Your beer and cigarettes come before anything important. You say there’s nothing better to do. For as long as I can remember you’ve told mom and I to get out . . . if we didn’t like it. Two, three times every day.

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You put us in the street. You said you needed your space. You took away the only home I’ve known for 16 years. You said it’s your house, get out. [Gramma’s house].

Mom has always been there, even working two jobs while you just drank.

You said the union won’t let you look for work. Do they expect us to starve? Some friends’ dads stand on corners for hours for work. Not you. You use what money we had for beer. Dad, there are 365 days in a year. How many days do you not drink, except when you’re in jail? Not one. Every time you come see me, you’re so drunk you fall down, knock things over, but good ole mom puts you in her bed and hides your keys until the next day. You can’t even give up one 12-pack [of beer] to help pay for my heart medicine.

I hear mom crying at night wondering how we’re going to make it from payday to payday. She’s gone without too long, just so I can have shoes, food, clothes, a roof over my head and pays for all my medical herself with no help from you or anyone else. Since I’ve been in school when have you come to just one event, Dad. Just one, name it. Never.

I hope other kids who read this know they are not alone. There are a lot of us kids out here going through the same thing.

No, Dad, your drinking hasn’t caused any problems at all. It just ruined our whole family. You say you can stop any time. Well, if you love us, please stop. We love you still.

Your son

P.S. Dad, I’m 16, not 17, and Dad, I’m in 10th grade.

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