Michael Forte doesn't drink anymore. He doesn't smoke anymore or eat in excess. Sitting in a quiet room at the Nathaniel Witherell Home in Greenwich, he shares his sometimes shocking, sometimes painful story.
What is remarkable is his soulful eyes.
They look down or away at a wall when he talks unwaveringly about facing a drinking problem head-on when he drove home one night so drunk he hit 14 parked cars. He talks about rehabilitation, about probation. Forte, 66, draws loose connections; he doesn't say he drank heavily in dark, dingy Port Chester bars because he weighed 600 pounds, but the details come in rapid succession.
He looks away recalling stories about grown adults making fun of him, about doing all of his shopping during early morning hours so he didn't have to see people. About the time he threw something at someone for making fun of him.
And then he'll look right at you to tell you how he used to order his mom a pizza and order himself three and three meatball subs on the side. And he meets you with those eyes, and his voice never waivers, and in him you can see all the lessons he learned, all the tragedy he's trudged through, but you can also see just how little any of that has done to diminish his indomitable spirit to always try and find the best in life, good or bad.
"I needed those things. Drink. Food. I needed it like a drug," Forte says and leans back in his chair. And he's smiling again. "I'd never be full. Then I got in the accident. I couldn't sleep at all. I could have killed someone."
When asked if the thing's he'd been through left any lasting impressions on his opinion of people, Forte shakes his head earnestly. He's been treated poorly and he's acted in unacceptable ways, but through all things he has achieved personal growth.
"There are evil people. Sick people. But there are so many good people. I love each and every one of them," he said. "I would say to kids reading this, never drink and drive. Don't ever drink something and then get into a car. But I could never go, like, talk to a classroom and all that. I can't preach to anyone. Because no one would listen to me, I don't think. I never listened to anyone. But I've learned from my mistakes and have nothing to hide. People lie about themselves. I'm not that way."
Forte grew up in Greenwich, his father a Cos Cob lifer and his mother a transplant from New York. He grew up in urban housing and, when the time came, he got a job working with the same organization so he could make better the lives of others walking in his shoes.
Forte has found a home in Witherell, and a family he's never had. He has a sister and a niece, but laughs when he expains he's remained unmarried, never interested in the responsibility that would come along with that life. He's found family in Witherll, though. Forte has formed such strong connections with the people at Witherell that he's kind of the resident rockstar. Down 260 pounds and still going, he relies on the family around him to keep him in line.
"They don't let me get away with nothing anymore," he maligns. "They did a skin graft. The doctor said he could make two hats and a rain coat. And I can't do anything but thank everyone at the Nathaniel Witherell for [my progress.] It's not just one person. Everyone here is so special to me. I'd rather be around these people than any other people."
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