NCSB Journal Spring 2026

on his head by a senseless series of sprees. He is the fellow who goes to bed so intoxicated he ought to sleep the clock around. Yet early the next morning he searches madly for the bottle he misplaced the night before. If he can afford it, he might have liquor concealed all over his house to be certain that no one gets his entire supply away from him to throw down the wastepipe. As matters grow worse, he begins to use a combination of high-powered sedative and liquor to quiet his nerves so he can go to work. Then comes the day when he simply cannot make it and gets drunk all over again. Perhaps he goes to a doctor who gives him morphine or some sedative with which to taper off. Then he begins to appear at hospitals and sanitariums…” After reading that, he asked me to write several examples of each sentence which turned into 16 sentences. The big book passage that read “Here’s the fellow that’s been puzzling you,” was a godsend. He was puzzling me, he was puzzling my loved ones, he was puzzling my friends, puzzling everybody who cared about me: that while I could generally be a good guy, I had to get drunk. Yes, I had been hung over in cases and in court, but I always felt I was prepared and always felt like I did my best. Looking back, obviously, that was part of that deception I’d led myself into: rationalizing that I was managing just fine—that my life was still not unmanageable. But as a friend of mine at the State Bar told me, “We always knew you were a bad drinker, but you had never done anything specific that we needed to intervene.” I had even been an elected councilor with the State Bar Council for nine years and drank aplenty at those meetings. Now I’m not assigning any blame to anybody at the State Bar, but I mention it because it was the PALS program (now LAP) and Ed Ward (LAP staff at the time) that really helped me pull myself together, both during my time at rehab and when I returned. I led off the article talking about my father and myself. He got into the AA program and followed the program. He was my hero, a great lawyer and a great dad—and I didn’t know him as an active drinker. But the insanity of my disease was so strong that I felt like even though my hero needed AA, and I was grateful for him going to AA, I was somehow better than that and didn’t need it. That’s how powerful alcoholism is. I came back home and was told to go to 90

meetings in 90 days. I give my rehab time credit because I went to a lot of meetings and did a lot of self-introspection, but I also give those 90 meetings in 90 days much thanks, as it was a wonderful investment in me, and in turn saved my life, the loves of my life, and my relationships. So, was it easy? No! Was it necessary? Absolutely. Was I hard-headed? Yes . But even with all of that, with all of those problems, I still knew I could and should be a better person. I follow the 12 steps to this day. I try to live my life more easily. A life, of course, without alcohol, and a life I turn over to my highest power. Actually, in my life I’ve got two higher powers—my relationship with Jesus Christ and my relationship with my wife. I find that if I listen to both of them, I usually keep it between the ditches. Over the years people have asked me how I did it. The simple answer is God’s will be done, not mine. As part of that, I ask daily to have my character defects removed. Some days I need more help with that than others, but at least I’m cognizant of what my defects are, whereas in my drinking career, I really didn’t care. I mentioned earlier that alcoholism is the only disease that says you don’t have it. I mean, if you went into a cancer ward or an AIDS ward or some other serious disease area and said, “I’ve got a cure for you,” people would crawl across the floor to get that relief. I was too blinded by alcohol and my own self-pity to realize my cure right in front of me—my father’s recovery through AA. It was hard to dig myself out of that. I’m here to tell you it’s worth every bit of investment in myself to be where I am today, still practicing law, still married, and having a great relationship with my beautiful daughters. My oldest daughter now has a wonderful husband and two little boys—they are the apple of PopPop’s eye. I could have missed it all… If you find yourself or someone you love that mirrors the story that I’ve laid out before you, please don’t worry about the stigma of admitting that you’ve got a disease. Save your life. Save their life. Do everything you can to get them some help. My law license says Attorney and Counselor of Law . I’m not a professional counselor, and while I do want to get the best results I can for my clients, I also worry and am concerned for them much more now that I’m sober, more than I did when I was just trying to be a big, tough trial lawyer. Remember, in the practice of law, there are all types of folks that are willing to help you. There’s the

BarCares Program with the North Carolina Bar Association and the Lawyer Assistance Program with the North Carolina State Bar. Don’t be as hard-headed as me. Ask for help, it’s confidential. Or go to AA; try it out! It could save your life. It saved mine. n NC LAP is a confidential program of assistance for all North Carolina lawyers, judges, and law students, which helps address problems of stress, depression, alcoholism, addiction, or other prob lems that may impair a lawyer’s ability to practice. For more information, go to nclap.org or call: Cathy Killian (Charlotte/areas west) at 704-910 2310, or Nicole Ellington (Raleigh/down east) at 919-719-9267 . maintained entirely online. For estate planning attorneys, this shift requires more than just technical updates to documents. It demands a mindset shift. We must recognize digital assets as real proper ty, worthy of protection, forethought, and legal clarity. North Carolina’s adoption of RUFADAA gives us a solid starting point, but the responsibility lies with us to help clients use that framework effectively. By asking the right questions, drafting with pre cision, and educating clients on both the legal and practical realities, we can ensure their digital lives aren’t left behind. Shoeboxes are out. Server farms are in. Whether it’s a crypto wallet or a YouTube channel, your client’s legacy deserves more than a forgotten password. It deserves a plan. n B. Joseph Causey Jr. is an estate planning attorney in Shallotte, North Carolina, where he maintains a boutique practice. He focuses on wills, trusts, estate administration, probate avoidance planning, and counseling clients on digital assets. Luke Conner is a third-year law student at Liberty University School of Law with an interest in estate planning. He interned with B. Joseph Causey Jr. and assisted with research and drafting on digital assets and fiduciary access to online accounts. Digital Afterlife (cont.)

SPRING 2026

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