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PrintWe have been overwhelmed by the responses we have received from readers from across the Pittsburgh area -- and then from across the country -- to our Jan. 8 Forum piece "Anyone's Son." The depth and scope of these issues and the path of destruction that they invariably lead to, is beyond imagination and so profoundly sad. Drugs affect every community and every family and left unchecked, the problem's they create will only become worse.
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Included below is a small sample of some of the e-mails we received in reaction to our opinion piece. Many writers understandably were not willing to have their names published -- they were afraid for their lives or for the stigma that would attach to them if they were too closely identified. We understand this fear completely. Their voice is no less powerful because, for the moment, it has been silenced by fear. A common theme in these message was the devastation that drugs create and the hopelessness that often surround it.
But even if messages are full of despair, there was hope as well. This sentiment is typified by these passages from a woman whose brother's death from an overdose changed the course of her life:
"I am a 42-year-old schoolteacher. But I am only that because my younger brother died the same death as your son at 21. Twenty years later I can say that my whole life has been defined by his death. I was working 24 hours a day in advertising when he died -- promoting products nobody needs and participating in 1980s excess with abandon.
"I thought you would appreciate that every day on the anniversary of my brother's death, I share a story with my classes about a charismatic young man who started partying in eighth grade -- and who was felled by an addiction before he even knew such a thing existed in his world.
"I try to talk to my students in a real way -- I never tell them not to drink or do drugs because, quite obviously, that doesn't work. Instead I talk to them about examining family history. I make them stand up and look at each other. I tell them that statistics say that four out of 20 of them are preprogrammed for addiction. I tell them that it's like putting a loaded gun to their head with four of 20 chambers full. I tell them they get one body for their whole lives -- and if they really want to take that gamble, they should respect it enough just to wait until they are a little older before pulling the trigger to see if they live or die. I tell my brother's whole wonderful magical childhood, popular, admired youth -- and sick, twisted death.
"The class closes stunned. Many kids are in tears when I'm done. They come up afterwards to talk to me. They ask tough questions. I always tell them that if I make just one of them think twice before taking a toke or popping a pill or snorting or shooting or smoking, then I have done my job. I tell them that they can call me day or night to pick them up if they are somewhere they don't want to be.
"I work in an exclusive district where parents don't realize that it's 'cool' to dabble in heroin and crack. I try to hit those kids hard to let them know that I know. And I haven't gotten fired yet. Kids can learn grammar anywhere. They can only learn about the pain that drug and alcohol abuse can cause the family of a teenager from the family of a teenager who has suffered the unthinkable loss of a beautiful life.
"I want you to know that I will add your column to my class this year. And for the next 20 years I will tell his story when I tell mine."
We are so very grateful for the courage for all of those who have written us and for the courage of so many who are still out there and must live with this nightmare every hour and every day. We are hopeful that real change will not be far off. Please feel free to write to us at jbildner@newhorizonspartners.com
From: CHRISTINE WILKINSON, Pittsburgh
I am a nurse case manager at a community hospital in Pennsylvania. Unfortunately, I have witnessed firsthand the devastating effects drug use is having on adolescents. You brought up an excellent point in your column. The point being that the youngest addicts out there are facing insurmountable odds while trying to stay clean. There is no way to transition these young people back into their prior social environments after treatment. There is limited support available and of course, as you well know, this leads to relapse after relapse.
The statistics you quoted in your column regarding 47 percent of middle school students being in schools where drugs are accessible made me cringe. I have a son in sixth grade this year. That sobering statistic made my skin crawl. Our national policy, as you mentioned, is clearly powerless in this fight. It's going backward instead of forward. In Pennsylvania, funding for drug and alcohol treatment programs is being cut across the board.
I do disagree with one portion of your column. That is the portion where you stated "We clearly failed." I am sure that you did everything in your power to help your son. I am sure that you went above and beyond, in fact, to help him.
You did not fail him, the system did. If he died from cancer you would not blame yourself. Drug and alcohol addictions are disease processes just as cancer is. There are just better treatments for cancer than addictions. My heart aches for you knowing that you feel that you failed your son. I will pray that in time you no longer feel that way.
I want to thank you for sharing your story. You have opened my eyes and I vow not to remain silent either.
My thoughts and prayers will remain with you.
From: KATHY AND MIKE BURCH, Pittsburgh
Hello, Jim and Nancy. You don't know me or my family, but we "know" you ...
We read your article in the Post-Gazette last night and want to first express our deepest sympathy on the loss of your son. We know exactly what you have gone through ... to a T. How? Because we lived your life.
Our son Bryan was addicted to heroin and passed away two years ago. I found him in his room the morning of Jan. 9, 2004, with a heroin needle still in his hand. My heart broke that day and has never healed completely ? but we have found a way to accept it and know that he lives on working with addiction from the other side. We know this because of the many e-mails we receive from people who have been lead to Bryan since his passing.
You see, Bryan began almost immediately sending us signs to let us know that he was all right. If he hadn't, I don't know how we would have survived. These signs were documented in an online journal, at first just for family and friends. But as time went on, I found that others were finding it and experiencing healing and learning from it. So I believe there was a larger purpose for it from the beginning.
Like your son, Bryan had been in and out of treatment facilities ... and had been clean for a few months. He was to have flown to Florida to live in a sober community on Jan. 12, 2004 ... just three days later. But someone talked him into one last fling before going away, and that one hit was one too many. His clean system could not tolerate the drug any longer and it took him quickly.
I don't know what it will take for the powers that be in this country to face the problem. There are more of our young people dying here every day from drug addiction than in Iraq. It's a silent war that is being waged against our youth that no one seems to know how to fight against. Police go after the addicts -- they are the easy targets -- never the dealers. How many times Bryan was arrested but the dealers he bought from were free to come and go as they pleased. Why is that? It's truly sad ... but no one cares. When will it ever change?
Your story could have been ours. Its timing was amazing. We felt Bryan wanted us to read it and get in touch with you. I believe he wants you to read about him on his Web site. It is http://bryanburch.com.
He was a wonderful boy and we will always miss him, just as you will miss your son. I'm sure they have met in heaven and become friends ... and that's why we were lead to you.
God bless you both. Try to remain strong. If you ever need to talk, I am here and would be more than happy to listen. Thank you for writing your article. You said many things that needed to be said. I hope someone listens.
From: BECKY GWINN, Tyrone, Pa.
As I read your article, my heart broke for you. Though I don't know you nor do I know your son, I know your situation. My son, Dylan, didn't die due to an overdose, but he almost did. I do know the heartache of losing a son though -- my oldest died nine years ago, due to an accidental shooting. So I know the pain of losing a part of your future and I know the pain of heroin addiction. My soul cries for you and your family and your sons friends.
Dylan used for three years before we were awoken. Dylan use to tell us how he hated the "heroin scruffs" on the streets and yet it was just a cover. The son that loved life, was the most popular kid in school and the most trustworthy friend turned before our eyes into a hollow shell who only cared about finding his next hit or stealing money from family and friends. He became someone we no longer knew, but loved still the same -- well, maybe even more because he needed it more..
Dylan finally hit a low. He was tired of being sick all the time and tired of trying to find enough heroin just to feel "normal." He ran away from home. When we found him, he had all the information we needed to get him into a methadone clinic. My husband and I and Dylan and our youngest son, Caleb, traveled three hours from home to get Dylan this help that he wanted.
We, as parents, weren't too sure about Methadone -- we heard all the horror stories. For three months we traveled six hours a day, six days a week to Pittsburgh for him to receive treatments before they opened a clinic one hour from our home. On the 23rd of January, Dylan will celebrate his three years of being clean. He still goes to the methadone clinic once a week, but has never had a dirty urine.
He still has a way to go when he decides that he is mentally ready for a full recovery, but I thank God and Dylan every day for taking him to where he is now. As a parent we try everything to protect our children, but we need to realize that we can't save them. If we could, you and I would be spending time with both of our sons that are no longer here. I use to ask myself every day "why?" And the thought came to me that I loved my son, Bobby, with all my heart and all my soul and in the best way that I knew how and Bobby knew that. So if you loved your son as much as you could, then you were excellent parents...
Our town is full of heroin, thanks to a doctor who first got the youth of our town addicted to Oxy's. Our police force has waged a battle against it that seems to be picking away at it, but too slowly. More and more kids get addicted and more and more die.
When you are ready to make a stand for whatever this country needs to get drugs out, I stand with you.
Peace to you and your family. Your son will never be forgotten.
From: JEAN WAGNER, community relations administrator for Passavant Hospital Foundation in Pittsburgh
Although I have not experienced the devastating effects in my family caused by drugs and I feel unqualified to write on the subject, the purpose of my writing is to tell you that your article touched me.
I live in the north suburbs of Pittsburgh, a middle- to upper-income community. I have met through my work a number of wonderful, well-educated and successful parents and families who live in these communities, and who are facing the same tragic situations in their families as you have faced. The availability of drugs, drug addiction, and effects of drug addiction in families does not give way to social or economic status.
From: ANNE AND HARRY O'BRIEN, Pittsburgh
Thank you for the powerful and thought-provoking article regarding your son's recent death.
Our son is 22 and has an addiction to Oxycontin. Your article put everything we've been thinking and feeling in proper perspective. It has truly been a nightmare.
We mourn the loss of your son and will keep your family in our thoughts and prayers.
God bless you.
From: JANE STONER, Wellsburg, W.Va.
Dear Jim and Nancy: First allow me to say how sorry I am at the loss of your son. I know too well the pain and agony you feel and the hole in your heat that will never heal. Your story is my story.
On March 8 or 9, 2005, my son Robert, age 23, took his own life in his apartment in Boynton Beach, Florida. Robert's choice of drug was also heroin and, as you state, his addiction was instant. His drug history started at age 12 and progressed into harder drugs. His first use of heroin was at age 19 while he was attending the Art Institute of Pittsburgh. Robert was in four treatment centers between January through September of 2003; his last one was in Fort Lauderdale prior to going to a halfway house in Delray Beach.
A close friend gave me your Post-Gazette article. I felt as if my heart had been ripped open again. The parallels of our two stories took my breath away.
I feel, as you do about your son, that my son's life will serve a purpose and he will have a legacy. I would like to know what you will be doing and the plans you have described. I too feel strongly about the issues of insurance, policies and prevention. Again, much thanks and you are in my present thoughts and prayers.
