The National Addiction Memorial honors the loved ones we’ve lost.

My Sweetest Baby Boy, GARBEAR;

The moment your daddy and I found out that I was pregnant with you, I could hear the trumpets in Heaven blow. My pregnancy with you was, to say the least, troublesome. I spent the first two trimesters in bed. I was allowed to walk back and forth to the bathroom. It was winter and I do not like winter, as it is dreary, cold, and rainy. Yes, I complained a lot but it was worth every moment once I laid eyes on your beautiful face for the first time.

You were the missing link to our small family. Jon-Jon was five and could not wait for you to be born. He was very much into HE-MAN FIGURES and was preparing which ones you would play with. The real truth was he was freaking out because he did not want anyone to touch his precious figures.

Before you were born, your daddy and I invited a gathering of many friends because we were clueless as to what we were going to name you. One of our friends suggested the name Garret. I looked up the meaning of your name and it means; A SERVANT OF GOD! Your father and I fell in love with your name and with great pride, a baby conceived in love was born on September 11, 1985. We named you Garret Poole Kilgore. Your brother Jonathan’s name meant a gift from God. How perfect!

You were perfect, healthy, a whopping eight pounds and fourteen ounces. I remember the first time Budrow, your grandfather laid eyes on you. Though I was drugged to the max, I saw a glow of pure love swell in his eyes. He had another grandson! Then he saw the port-wine stain on your hand. Budrow ran out of the room to find a nurse, a doctor, someone he could speak to about having laser done on your hand. STAT! And you always said; I was overly protective? HA! We had a wonderful family and I was very lucky to have two in-laws that were truly like my real mama and daddy. I miss both of them so much!

Your daddy and I were not about to allow laser surgery to be performed on your hand at one day old. We never had to do anything to your little hand because as you grew, the port wine stain disappeared. God took care of that!

One day when you were about six weeks old, we got into our minivan, bought for the added baby. We were picking Jonathan up from St. Frances School, and my friend, Teresa Palladino saw you and said; In her country, the Philippines, it is believed that any person born with a mark like yours was a sign of greatness, a leader, a person that would make the world a better place. Though I knew this, I felt it was another sign of confirmation that you were placed on this earth for greatness, to make a difference in our fallen world.

Because of the layout of the home we lived in prior to the one on Cold Harbor, and I was recovering from a C-section, you stayed in our bedroom until you were six months old. The picture where you are in your baby bed sitting up was taken in our room. You were always an early riser and the moment your dad and I heard you stir, we very quietly covered ourselves with the sheet. Praying that you would go back to sleep and we could have just one more hour of rest. We would lay there, trying not to laugh, or breath but you were very wise and knew those two idiots were your parents hiding.

Since Monday, October 16, 2017, when your grandmother, Gil called me to let me know that your life on earth had ended, my life changed forever. Presently, I find that I never realized how many tears could flow from my eyes. I cannot think, I cannot breathe, I am believing that there is no such thing as stages of grief when parents lose a child.

From the moment I heard the news, all I could focus on was the book you loved so much; “THE RUNAWAY BUNNY”, I do not know if you placed that thought into my mind or God. Every night up into your teens, you had me read that book to you. “Ferdinand” was your second favorite. You were Ferdinand, as you would rather smell the flowers, find a place where you had complete shalom. You were never a fighter, you always had a smile as everyone who knew you experienced your infectious laughter, which was identical to your Uncle Curt’s laughter. I have journalled every day of your life, as I have your brothers.

I remember when you would come home from school, almost every day before you did your homework, you would go into the pantry and make potions. You would mix spices, add baking soda, vinegar, whatever you could find to complete your mission. You would spend hours doing this. I believe your interest in potions came from when we worked on your brother’s school project where we had to make a volcano and you were so excited when we mixed the two magical ingredients that caused the lava flow.

Then you were off to play with your best friends, Blake and Morgan, Andy, Brett, the list go on and on. We were blessed to have so many boys your age on our street on Cold Harbor Drive.

Your daddy and I knew by the time you were three-years-old that you would be in the filming industry. You had an imagination that blew us away. You were always putting on skits. In kindergarten, your class had an assignment where all of you were to come to school with something to do with 100. Your idea, LAST MINUTE, was that you wanted 100 pennies glued to your T-shirt. Thank God for glue guns, as I hurried to glue 100 pennies to your shirt right before carpool. I finished in time to take a picture of you, all smiles, standing on the front porch, ready for your big day.

Which leads me to your entrepreneurship abilities at the age of three.
You would set-up a lemonade stand in the front yard. No one would come, as we lived on a cul-de-sac and as I sat on the front steps watching you, I could see the wheels turning in your head. You grabbed your little wagon, put your supplies in the wagon, and with my permission, you went door to door, selling your lemonade for 50 cents per cup. They were the very small cups you and your brother had in your bathroom for rinsing after you brushed your teeth.

Who could resist you? No one! If memory serves me, that first day, you came home with a total of $15.00. That opened a whole new world for you. You continued your quest with how do I make more money? Every time I went to the feed store downtown to buy supplies for my horses, you were the first one in the car. You had discovered that they sold the kind of candy that you and your friends loved, in bulk, at a reasonable price.

At that time, you were nine-years-old, Santa had brought you a dune buggy. OMG, that caused me to have so much stress, though you wore a helmet, shoulder pads, shin guards, elbow pads, I still worried. I was an overprotective mama!

It was the beginning of summer, you were insistent that I take you to the feed store so you could buy candy and sell it so you would have money to spend when we went to Sarasota to visit your grandparents.

Off we went, all the way downtown and we arrived, you bought an assortment of various kinds of candy. When we got home, you threw everything on the kitchen table and began to sort everything. You asked me for lunch bags, markers, and a stapler. At that point, I thought it would be a promising idea to teach you about how to truly run a business. I charged you for the bags, the markers, and the staples.

That ended up in a temper tantrum. How could a mama charge her baby boy? It was so overwhelming, I just let it slide and as you settled down, you prepared your bags and when you were finished, off you went to sell your wares. Again, door to door but this time you had wheels. In two days, you made over $100. This cycle continued for years but what really made me insane was all the trips I had to make to the bank for you. First, you wanted a $100 bill, then, you wanted 100 dollars in quarters, then 100 dollars in pennies. This went on forever but Garret, if I could go back in time, I would do it all over again. BUT I CAN NOT!

Because Jonathan was involved in so many outside sports, your car seat had become your crib. The song we used to sing all the time was; “ON THE ROAD AGAIN.” Garret never wanted to be anywhere but in my arms. I soon learned how to clean, wash dishes, vacuum with one arm. As long as he was moving, he was happy.

As Garret started school and was old enough to spend the night with his friends, we had a problem. He was ok if someone spent the night with us but he was not going to leave our home. I knew that I had to do something to push him into a new way of thinking.

Garret was in fourth grade and knowing the school had a mandatory week camping trip as part of their curriculum in 5th grade, I had to do something quickly. Against his will, I signed him up for one week of day camp the end of 4th grade. We met the bus at the church and as all the mothers and his friends watched the scene Garret made, I calmly got him out of the car and walked towards the bus. One of the camp counselors was a linebacker on the football team. I finally got Garret in the bus, in the seat, kissed him and said I will see you this afternoon. I started walking out of the bus, all of a sudden, I heard what sounded like a body hitting the floor of the bus and a bolt of lightning pass me and jump into the very back of the car.

The linebacker was down and by the time I got to the car, Garret was in the very back seat, tying the seatbelts around his legs and arms. Screaming at the top of his lungs; “I AM NOT GOING!” We followed the bus to the campsite. When we arrived, Garret submitted and stayed the day and mama was waiting for him to arrive back to the church. I truly saw a smile on his face while he was in the bus but that smile quickly disappeared once he saw me.

As the memories flood my brain, my heart, I could continue with stories about you until my eyes close and my heart stops beating.

Garret, you made a difference in this cruel world. I have received hundreds of emails from people I never knew, letting me know how you helped change their lives for the better. These emails give me comfort in knowing that your father and I did a pretty good job!

It breaks my heart when I heard you were found on your knees, kneeling at the side of your bed. Your head laying on your mattress.
I have to believe that you were speaking to OUR LORD AND SAVIOR.
As your mama, I am still suffering from the empty nest syndrome and will until we meet again.

Garbear, you have, my heart, my mind, my everything! If there was ever a young man loved as much as you, they had all they needed. YOU HAD IT ALL!

YOU ARE LOVED, YOU WILL BE MISSED!~AS FOR YOUR MAMA, I WILL CONTINUE TO READ THE RUN-AWAY BUNNY, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN.

SWEET SHALOM MY ANGEL!

LOVE, MAMA

Boone is my heart. He was so fun loving, and he was wonderful with family and with his many friends. Usually upbeat, he had " shoe game", and that was the only thing he cared about as far as clothes. He loved to skateboard, and became pretty good at it, starting at a young age. He pretty much detested other sports though- He LOVED dirt biking, 4 wheeling, mudding in his old Chevy jacked up truck that he saved for years to get. He didn't see boundaries in people, meaning he never judged anyone that I know of, as long as they were remotely nice to him and those he cared most about. Boone never loved school, but he tested well, so he got by easily until later high school, when he stopped trying at all, or attention issues got the best of him- I think it was both.
Boone starting smoking weed occasionally when he was 16, I think. His senior year he started trying pills at school, every once in a while from what we have heard, a dealer we met after he died said he didn't touch oxys or roxys, heroin, etc- he told her "that stuff can kill you".... He was working, going to school, and being part of our family, so we were assuming it was still just weed on occasion- we didn't like it, but he never did anything around us, and we didn't smell it on him, and he continued being a great son to us, so we chalked it up to teen behavior and he would outgrow it.
He started partying around the end of march 2017. His closest friend died tragically- left by some other kids at a rock quarry ledge- where he fell in and drowned. Boone blamed himself for not being there and for a couple of weeks he completely stopped partying all together- his grief counselor told us at his age, it would get worse again, and quickly- that an 18 year old would not have that grand wake up call we needed and wanted him to have. She was right- 5 weeks after Sean died, Boone started doing more Xanax- a benzo drug that is extremely addictive although this country uses it like aspirin to fix any stress it seems. Boone went in one week from a kid who we are told was taking 1-3 Xanax a day to someone who was needing upper of 15 .25 mg bars a day. He was arrested the fourth day of this binge- the 17th of July, and we talked him into starting rehab-and told him it was the only way his charges would be dropped- which is what our lawyer told us. He was set to check into a facility the 19th. On the 18th, he left our house, saying he was just going to the rope swing with some friends- a common activity where we live in the country by a great river for camping and swimming. He was supposed to be back home before dark. He called and said he was staying out at a friends place, and that since he was 18, he knew we couldn't force him to rehab, but he would go if we would let him have this last night of hanging with some buddies. We knew where he was, and we were clueless about the amount of pills he had been taking at that point, so we said okay, and that we would get him in the AM to go.
That night he got a ride to a dealer, bought 30 pills, took them all- posted it on his social media and asked tons of kids to meet him out at the same quarry where his friend had died. For the most part, the kids said no way, and for him to stay in, but he found two kids willing to party with him at 3AM. Once they gave him the ride to the quarry, they decided it was a bad idea for them, and they left him there alone- knowing how many pills he had taken. He was a constant video guy so he taped them together and it was obvious he was under the influence big time. He continued to call out to others to ask them to come party with him, to celebrate his friend that had died there, before he went into rehab the next day. Once he realized no one was coming, he started calling, texting and snapchatting, asking kids for rides out, saying again he had taken 30 bars and to please come "scoop him" meaning to pick him up. At this time it was almost 4 AM, and kids were either asleep, or unable, or unwilling to come. His last snap out was around 5:15 and at that time it was just random letters. His last film out was around 4:30 and he is no longer able to stand, and is leaning against the spot where his friend was left. The next day we finally tracked down who he was with and they lied about where they took him, so it took hours to figure out where he was. When we finally did check there, his things were there but he was not. It took 5 days to find him, because the quarry is more than 100 feet deep, and murky and cold, so nothing rises. The kids involved were his friends- not just strangers. They cared about him, and we know that. They didn't want to get him in trouble for taking the pills, and also didn't want to get themselves in trouble for leaving him there alone, so they lied. They never imagined he would drown. The 20 or so kids that he was snapchatting to on a group chat felt the same- they knew he was out of control, but didn't want to be the one to say so- and because of their lack of knowledge about a state law called the Good Samaritan 911 law, he died, just like his close friend Sean.
The two boys each have a teenage sister- Bridget Odonnell and Elly Cummins. They have made it their mission, along with our families, to make sure every middle schooler and high schooler in the state know about this law- and how it could save lives. They are going around to local high schools, church groups, community meetings, etc- to show their program on this to spread the word. They have met with our Attorney General, and we will be meeting with legislative members in the weeks to come. This information needs to be EVERYWHERE- it's different state to state, but the point is if someone calls to help a friend in need, neither the person calling or the person you are calling on will get prosecuted for whatever you have on you- drugs, underage drinking, etc- four of the kids who got that call/text/ snap from Boone where he begged for a ride away, have told us they would have called if they knew it wouldn't get Boone in trouble, or themselves. The same goes for the kids who left Sean.
This past weekend, less than 6 months from the day we lost him, a person was saved in our little county because of our boys, and our girls now campaigning to make this a better known law. Someone who saw one of their talks was with a group of kids where one OD'ed- and while almost everyone in the group wanted not to call, because they didn't want to get in trouble- one kid had seen this presentation and made the call. It saved a life we are told. Nothing brings back our son, but being able to keep another family from going through what we all have means something so powerful. Thank you for letting me share this- and what Shatterproof has done is incredible- we hope to get the lifeskills section included in our county schools, one day at a time. if you have any interest in learning more about the girls' campaign- go to BeKindLeavenoonebehind on Facebook or Instagram.

His story is typical of most. Began with marijuana, and then pills at 15. He spent a week in rehab. Then released as I was told he was “cured.” Which eventually escalated into more. The thing was that the world was oblivious. He worked a full time job and had many friends and family that he interacted with often. He was diligently trying to get a higher paying job and had goals. He was focused more than ever. And he relapsed and died from fentanyl laced heroin. None of us knew he was struggling. The stigma needs to be erased so that people with addiction are not all seen as jobless, menaces to the world. They are white collar, blue collar, moms, Dads, kids, even grandparents. It does not discriminate.

Martin was born and raised in California and grew up in the Niles District of Fremont where kids could still run around the neighborhood and have fun. Martin and his friends would often play street hockey at the end of his street. His little sister often played hockey and rollerbladed with the big boys, sometimes wearing her princess dress and shoes. Martin didn’t mind and they got along fine. They liked playing around and being silly together.

One of Martin's favorite places to gather was at the hockey rink. He loved hockey. It probably all started playing street hockey and advanced from there. He loved the togetherness, the sportsmanship, and his teammates. He knew what it was like to make the perfect save in front of the goal. He knew what it was like to win a championship. He also knew what it was like to lose. He was a goalie and loved doing "old school" moves like the poke check and stacking his pads to make a save.

After a year in a sober living residence, Martin had been clean for about a year and a half; graduated and moved out of the house. Then he relapsed and got high. After that he confided in his mother and said, "Last time It took over a year for me to wake up and not feel bad, is it going to take another year before I don't feel bad again?"

No one wanted to see Martin's life end this soon. No one wanted to see Martin's life ending with a drug overdose, but it did. It's sad and a real cheat that Martin's life is over. He had so much to live for. A family that loved him, a sport he enjoyed. He didn’t want to die, he wanted to live. Don't dwell on Martin's addiction; that will just tear you up. Instead, focus on Martin the person. Focus on his smile and his laugh. Focus on that twinkle in those eyes of his. Don't be afraid to just hop in your car, crank up the tunes, and take a drive through the country. Go to a hockey game, put some snow down your swimsuit. Focus on each person like him that you meet.

Martin's sister said it best. She hated Martin's addiction, but she loved her brother. He was her best friend. She said, "It's okay to hate the addiction, but never stop loving Martin. His battle is over. "

Jeremy was a fun loving and kind-hearted young man. He grew up in a loving home with three brothers. He played baseball from ages 8 to 16. However, he struggled with addiction since he was a teenager. It started out with marijuana from age 13 until 18. Then he started using other drugs like cocaine, spice, and amp. When he was about 21, he started taking pills like Xanax & Percocet. A friend suggested heroin since it was cheaper and once Jeremy tried it, he was hooked. Eventually he got arrested and had to go into an outpatient rehab program and was treated using Methadone. After about six months, he got off of Methadone and stayed clean--until he overdosed and passed away. He was doing really well with his recovery but decided to meet up with a few old friends and used and overdosed. It was such a shock and I'm so devastated! I miss my son so much. Jeremy wasn't just a person with an addiction. He was a brother, a grandson, a Beloved Son, a good friend to many!

Cassie was 27 when she passed away. She'd been struggling with addiction for about four years. She left two beautiful little girls behind Starley who is 5 and Zay who is 7. It broke our hearts. Cassie had life in the palm of her hand. She graduated from high school with honors and went to Weber State and was accepted into the nursing program. Passionate in life. She danced since she was 4 years old. Her children and family love the outdoors. The passion you had for your patients was amazing. You will always be loved and never forgotten.

My son Jason suffered from addiction for several years before passing away at 32 years old on September 27, 2017 from an overdose. Jason’s addiction did not define him as a person. He was a loving son, brother, proud uncle and compassionate friend to all. He loved spending time with his family and friends. Jason loved sports, especially the Yankees and Dallas Cowboys. He was always there to listen to a friend in need even when he himself was struggling with addiction. Jason was determined to be in recovery from his addiction issues and went in and out of rehab several times. Jason’s addiction did not make him a failure. In fact, it made everyone who knew him prouder each time he tried. All who loved and cared for Jason tried their best to help him with his struggle. One of the last text messages he sent me as he entered the final detox was, “Thanks for not making this any harder than this has already been… and I’m talking about just supporting me and just being there. You always know what to say to make me feel better about any bad situation. I love you so much mom.” Jason will also be remembered as a kind, caring, and empathetic person. Jason had the best smile. Even though he lost his battle with addiction, we are proud of the legacy he leaves behind, as a kind, loving, compassionate person, which is what we all want when we leave this earth. Most of all Jason was my beautiful boy.

April 2016 was a rough year for my family. If you know my family you will see I used the day my brother died to mark their deaths because to me that was the day we lost both of them. Todd and Taylor had a very close bond, that daddy daughter connection could have been defined by watching them. My brother Todd passed away at the age of 41. At the time of his death his daughter Taylor was in a rehab for heroin. Some of my last words to my niece were “Taylor, I need you to finish this rehab, you have to fight this thing baby girl, I can not bury you like we are your father today.” I will never forget her looking up at me with tears streaming down her face saying, “don’t worry aunt Kimmy if you can beat alcohol I can beat this”. Two weeks later we buried her with her dad. Both of my brothers, my sister, and myself all suffer or suffered from some form of addiction (drugs and/or alcohol) and while some of us our still here fighting the fight my beautiful niece will forever remain 19. She left behind a 3 yr old son, Ryder, who will only ever know how much his mommy loved him and what a great young lady she truly was through all of us. She DID NOT want to die from this disease but once it got its fangs into her it was too strong a hold to break. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t wish that I could have been a better example, that I do not wish I could hear “wanna take a selfie Aunt Kimmy. Come on let’s take a selfie.” (I hate pictures and she knew that). There is not a day that goes by that I do not wish I could have saved her.

Danny was such a strong, brave, fun loving person. He fought his demons for years and was clean for almost five years before he overdosed. In the last 4 years of his life, he was able to gain amazing relationships with family and friends that were once lost, and even find the love of his life. What will be missed the most is Danny's laugh, smile, and sense of humor. God had bigger, better plans for him, and he is now at peace.

Julia loved life! With 3 sisters, her mom, Duchess her dog, and 3 nephews who adored her, it made for a happy family. Julia’s spirit and outgoing personality was infectious. She always managed to have a good time and make sure everyone around was enjoying themselves. She loved being outside whether in the mountains hiking and camping or scuba diving in the ocean and playing in the water. Julia loved to travel and experience other cultures. When she lived in Eastern Africa with her father and sister, she had a deep connection with the local people and wanted to learn their ways of life, which was unique for someone her age.

Julia loved Duchess, spending many hours with her at dog parks and exploring. Duchess was her baby and she was certainly treated like one. As a cosmetologist, she loved glamour and keeping up with the latest trends. She had a knack for seeing lines and angles. Julia also loved to cook and try new recipes in the kitchen, some were good and some were not, but it never stopped her from having fun.

Julia’s back injury during her early teen years opened the door to her disease of addiction. As is so prevalent in today’s society, she was over prescribed opioids by a local doctor. From there her fight was nearly every day, trying to stay drug free and fighting this horrific disease. Julia had good times and rough times, but always managed to let us know she was fighting and that she loved us all more than she could express. In her death, it is obvious to most of us that she fought as hard as she could, partly for herself, but also for all of us. 

The disease itself has been so poorly researched and its affects on the brain, poorly understood.  For someone who doesn’t suffer from this disease, it was easy to say “please just choose life over the drugs”. We now know how naive it was to say this, as if she had a choice... Julia never had a choice. I wish more people could see the fight and how this is a disease with no cure, only poor treatments and only for those with money.  People with this disease can have some good days or even good years but they are never cured.  The only hope for our society is to find research-based treatments, funding effective maintence programs for those suffering from addiction, and  prevention education, instead of just looking at them as junkies and disposable.  Let it be seen in the same light as someone suffering from MS or ALS, our loved ones deserve that at least. Julia Scott the daughter, sister, and friend will be missed beyond words but stories about her will keep us laughing until we too take our last breaths.

Brady was one of those free spirits that never took one step inside the proverbial box. He had a love for life as big and loud as his infectious laugh. No one was ever a stranger, just someone he hadn’t made friends with yet. Brady had a dark side as big as his bright side. He started using marijuana in high school. While he was in college, he was introduced to more addictive and eventually deadly drugs. He had tried to fight the addiction several times with several different styles of rehabilitation. This is my way of keeping Brady’s memory alive. My hope with this charity program is to help keep another father from this task of writing about his dead son.

Ricky was my big brother. What a goofball he was. I say he was my "BIG little brother" because I was more mature than him, but that is not bad. Rick loved to fish, hike, and climb. NOTHING scared him. He'd race with co-workers to the top of a 20ft beam. With no wires. A co worker actually fell one of those times, but that didn't stop Rick. He would then go to Nevada, and climb on crazy high cliffs, and so on. Ricks addiction, turned him into someone he didn't like, and many times he threatened suicide just to finally "end it." That time came when, on July 30, 2002, he would leave my apartment in a stolen vehicle, go about 2 miles, and nod out at the wheel, going about 30mph, crash into a fence that impaled him. Someone at the scene spotted me at the crash site, stopped and told me how he held my brothers hand until the paramedics got there, and he stated my brother looked at him and said "It's my time." His addiction made him someone he didn't want to be, and he tried and tried to beat it, but just couldn't, so that's when God decided, enough suffering. I miss my big little brother, and his goofy self.

Matthew was the oldest of four and is survived by his parents, Billy and Sheri, and his siblings, Katie, William, and Leo. Family was so important to him, and his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, all of us, miss him dearly. Matthew had so many friends both in Virginia and Pennsylvania. His smile lit up a room and his laugh was infectious. He loved sports and was an avid snowboarder, football, and lacrosse player.
A piece of all of our hearts now lives in heaven. Until we meet again Mattie, we love you always.

Jessica Green was 28 years old when she lost her life to substance abuse. She had a heart of gold, was fun loving, and had a beautiful smile. She died of an overdose on March 23, 2016, after a year long addiction.
It happened so fast and I knew nothing about heroin addiction or the signs.
I miss her presence, her smile, and her laugh. She was my best friend for 28 years.

Jonathan William Ledbetter, 19, died Friday, Nov. 10, 2017, at Carolinas Medical Center in Concord. A native of Cleveland County, he is the son of Joel Ledbetter and Jane Marsh Ledbetter, both of Shelby. Jonathan graduated from Crest High School in 2016, was a member of Flint Hill Baptist Church, and a former member of the Shanghai V.F.D. He had many passions in life, but his true love was hunting and fishing. Jonathan struggled with opiate addiction that started in his mid-teens, but anyone who knew him knew there was more to him than his addiction. We, as a family, share this openly in hopes of saving others from what has happened to Jonathan.
Jonathan was preceded in death by his grandmother, Jeanette Marsh.
In addition to his parents, he is survived by his brothers, Justin Ledbetter of Winston-Salem, and Jordan Ledbetter and wife Jessica of Shelby; grandparents, Leon and Gertrude Ledbetter of Shelby, and Bill Marsh of Clarkton, NC; his girlfriend, Izabell Moore of Shelby; aunts and uncles, Rusty and Gail Marsh of Clarkton, NC, and Crystal and Keith Biddix of Shelby; and cousins, Josh Biddix and wife Scotti, and their son Mason, Kelly Anne Mize and husband Jimmy, and their son Lane, Billy Marsh and wife Emily, and Allie Marsh.

To bring awareness to addiction, memorials may be made to, Shatterproof, 101 Merritt 7 Corporate Park, 1st Floor, Norwalk, CT 06851.

http://m.wbtv.com/story/36864153/after-teens-overdose-death-cleveland-c…

Jonathan Ledbetter was a country boy who loved to fish, hunt, and anything to do with the outdoors. He spent a lot of his teenage life around friends that he had since middle and elementary school until his addiction began consuming his life around age 17-18. He began hanging out with people who were using drugs and wasn’t the influences he needed. He thought these were his friends, regardless what anyone could tell him. He attended several rehab programs without success and was currently working on an application for a long term rehab the week he overdosed chewing on Fentanyl patches.

Addiction doesn’t discriminate against who it grabs hold of. All it takes is the one time to use a drug and it can grab hold of your life and shatter it. Unfortunately for Jonathan, the negative influences all seemed to come around when he was at his weakest points and he would start another downward spiral. I commonly hear people say “addiction isn’t a disease”, “they got what they deserve”. Let’s just hope that addiction never strikes one of their loved ones in their household, those are some big words to eat. I never would have dreamed in a million years I would lose my little brother to an overdose. But listen to me: it can happen to ANYONE.

Life will never be the same for my family. We will continue to miss his smile, sense of humor, and his muddy boots always in front of the door. Please take it from my family. If you are watching a loved one with an addiction, or think they have one, intervene before it’s too late. Research signs of your loved ones addiction, they will be there. One overdose is all it takes to shatter the hearts of a family forever.

My handsome, smart son, Travis was an outdoors man, loved to fish and hunt, tease his little brother, had such a mischevious grin......
Travis had a hard time with anxiety, felt insecure with himself and interanlized his doubts and feelings.
He became addicted to narcotic painkillers and passed away from a overdose at the age of 30.

So loved, so missed

Thomas James Kaupert Senior was taken from his loved one’s too soon, passing away unexpectedly on January 2, 2018 in Houston, Texas at 54 years. He was born April 9, 1963 in San Antonio, Texas. He was a hardworking, professional welder for nearly 35 years, who possessed a servants heart and found his greatest joy in sharing his humor with others. Thomas had a passion for music, the outdoors; especially hunting and fishing. He was a loving and devoted father to sons Thomas and John and daughter Ashley. He is survived by his father Joseph Lee Kaupert Sr. with wife Dianna Kaupert and mother Kay Ellen Locascio with husband Anthony Thomas Locascio; his brothers, Joseph Lee, Rance Eldon, and Jason Logan; his children and grandchildren, Summer, Luke, AnnMarie, and Raymond. Thomas will be deeply missed, but he lives on in the hearts of all the people he touched.