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

Erica was a beautiful, vibrant young lady full of life. Looking forward to her future in Radiation Technology. For the last 6 or 7 years, Erica battled extreme anxiety, which at times led to depression. She would choose various drugs from time to time in small doses to feel better. She began with marijuana and believed it was harmless. I tried to tell her it would lead to other things. About a year ago, a middle aged man approached her on her job and gave her three bags of heroin and promised her it would be the best she ever tried and if she could sell it, she would have great wealth. A couple of months later, she and a close friend snorted it. From then on, they were hooked. We did not find out until September 2017 that she was using heroin, never would have thought it. My vision of a heroin user was not my daughter, living right under our roof. She went to rehab out of state for 90 days on October 28, 2017. We picked her up from the airport and on January 26, 2017, we were shocked at her transformation. Physically and spiritually she was healed, but the mental torture never left her according to her journals. On February 6, 2017, I returned home to find she overdosed in her bedroom. Her pain was too great here and the Lord called her home. Now her home is mine to carry. We love her and miss her so much.

Patrick was someone who laughed and smiled at many different things and really experienced the world with an open mind and open heart. He loved dumb jokes and stand up comedy and was someone who had an infectious joy and personality. He was like anyone, he wanted to be loved and respected and happy. He also wanted to make others happy, which he did.

He was diagnosed with bipolar and depression at a young age and struggled with heroin addiction from the age of 17 to his ultimate passing at the age of 30. He tried multiple rehabilitation methods and was able to stay clean for long periods of time but would usually start using again eventually, especially during times of hardship. This last year he was able to maintain a year of sobriety and was in a wonderful place but was unable to fully beat his addiction and we lost him to an overdose earlier this year. I think knowing his pain and struggle has permanently changed my perspective on addiction. I witnessed his immense strength and ability to fight for so long and when you think about how many others are going through such hardships, especially those who are alone or lack support, it is heartbreaking. I think what we can all take away from people who fight against addiction is just how much willpower and effort it takes.

I miss everything about him. He had more empathy than anyone I have ever known. He would never hesitate to give everyone a hug and warm embrace. Even if they were complete strangers. I don't honestly think he had any hate in his heart at all. I don't just miss the clean version of my brother, or the older brother from when I was younger whom I looked up to with wide eyes. I miss the brother who was always struggling for his life. The brother who even though he was sick from withdrawal still showed up to help me move and to watch me graduate. I miss not only the person he was but the person he never got to become. I miss the person who would have been the best father ever and would have loved that child more than anything. He was supposed to grow older and be an uncle and his addiction robbed the world of a really wonderful person. I will just miss him and not getting those bear hugs during the holidays that was always followed by "love you brotha."

His motto was "IT'S GONNA BE OK, BECAUSE IT'S OK" which on the surface makes absolutely no sense but when you dig into it a little deeper, has a lot of depth and meaning. In a way, this perfectly sums up who Patrick was. He was someone who easily could have been reduced to everything he was on the surface, and was someone who society or even Patrick himself would deem a failure. When you scratch below that surface or veneer, something truly beautiful and wonderful was revealed. He was a person with remarkable courage and strength who fought every day (until the end) for happiness in his life. He had hopes and aspirations and never gave up on trying to get help. People who live with addiction are the some of the strongest human beings on this planet and he was living proof of this. The next time you encounter someone with any type of addiction, think of the people like my brother who did not possess a judgmental bone in their body. Remember that all persons are deserving of love and empathy, and if you can, smile and tell them "it's gonna be okay, because it is already okay."

How can one measure sin? If you're a believer, you know God says that all sin is equal. But if you're not a believer, the same question still stands. If you ever drank a sip of alcohol, you know that it could end in death. You know that alcoholics and drunk drivers begin at "just one sip." The wage of sin is death, no matter what the sin is. I start off this way because I think when people hear that someone dies of a drug overdose, they lose sympathy immediately. Immediately they are put in a category of loser, trash, or sinner, and quickly forgotten as son, brother, family member, and friend. You forget someone loves this person with the deepest parts of their heart, and my cousin was loved that way. He was funny. He was smart. He was talented. And he was a masterpiece of God. We all are, no matter what wrong choices we've made.
My wrong choices in life are equal to all the wrong choices my cousin made. Unfortunately, his wrong choices have led him to a death that is sooner then mine. But he is loved the same by his family and by the one who created him.

My cousin "Little Ricky", as I called him, was first introduced to me at the start of his heartbeat in my aunt's belly. She was pregnant the same time my mom was with my baby sister. The doctor gave my aunt this little machine she could take home with this jelly like substance that she could rub on her belly and then put it on her stomach and you could hear Ricky's heartbeat. My aunt was so excited she came to my mom's house with it and we spent the night listening to the heartbeat of my sister and my cousin. It's a memory I'll never forget at just 6 years old. Then both my sister and Ricky were born and they were buds. We used to have parties and Ricky would run around with this silly personality that was larger then life. But Ricky learned at a very young age that life wasn't all rainbows and butterflies when his older half brother he looked up to, Bobby, struggled with addiction and eventually passed. I think that, mixed with the neighborhood he lived in, caused life to go in a direction that no one wanted for him. We all know the saying "show me your friends and I'll show you your future" or "you are the company you keep." Even though Ricky came from a loving family, the friends that his school and neighborhood offered weren't going to be lawyers or doctors, maybe blue collar kids and that's at best. And after knowing his brother's story and losing him, I think he began to believe that "this was life." Could I be wrong in some ways? Sure. But I'll be willing to bet it all had something to do with it in the end.

Moving on to his life lived. He loved his parents dearly, even though they were tortured by his lifestyle. The real Ricky would have done anything for them. He had a huge desire to love a woman but with the drugs he wasn't ever the man he could have been to them, I'm sure. He was loved hard by his family and shown tons of affection and I know he turned around and gave that same affection to his girlfriends. He had lots of friends, although many of them struggled with a similar set of demons. He loved them and they loved him. And then lastly, his family. His grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We loved him and he loved us. At our last Christmas party with him, he was doing well again and we all felt like we had "Little Ricky" back. That's what we all called him. He was so proud that we were his family and showed an enormous amount of love to each of us that day. He went home and made our "traditional family Christmas picture" his Facebook profile picture for months! That still makes my heart happy now.

In the last months of his life, he was actually "different." We heard he was clean in the past but all those times came and went quickly. This time he was actually trying and trying hard. He was up early doing things for the community and was interested in making the world a better place. He had new friends and a new girlfriend and began to build a deeper and more loving relationship with his parents.
He had a desire to be better. And that's what led him to a place that one's parents could only dream about. But as we know the story doesn't end in a complete turn around, hence the reason I write.

I myself have a relationship with Jesus and my struggle and grief mostly came wondering if he ever made the decision to believe in God. I know if he, at any point, made this decision it's what would carry him "home." It wasn't until a few days after his passing that I saw a post on Facebook that piqued my interested. Someone wrote "Jesus wept and now I know why" and it was a picture of my cousin. I looked deeper into it only to see that my mentor from church was friends with the woman who posted it. I immediately messaged my mentor asking who the woman was and how she knew her. She told me that the woman is a Christian who works with addicts and does service projects with them. Then my mentor realized who my cousin was and said, "I know him! He was doing so good and everyone loved him. He is safe now and in the arms of Jesus. I have faith he is healed so celebrate his healing. He doesn't have to fight anymore."

If I could only explain to you the relief I felt in that moment. Although Ricky didn't make it as long as we had hoped in this world, I believe he made it to the only home that matters. I later found out that before he died, he acknowledged his faith and said things like "I'm finally becoming who God planned for me to be." As much as we wish he would have continued a long life on this earth for our own selfish reasons, he struggled again and passed away on April 1, 2017. But one thing I know to be true is that God is a good father. It's who he is. And we are loved by him, it's who we are to him. I'm sure He didn't want Ricky or those around him to suffer any longer. I know there is a bigger picture that only God can see. I'm rejoicing for my cousin. He is in the place I long to be. He is with the one I love the most. He is with our Good Father and at the only destination that I care to arrive.

You're home Little Ricky. One day I'll see you. But til then, I'll remember your great big smile and your trademark words "I love you cuz."

Harrison was loved by everyone he met. He was motivated and driven to be the best he could be. All he wanted to do was give his family the greatest life possible. He worked very hard but also had his struggles. His world was his little girl Marlaina. From the moment she was born, he became Mr. Mom. He was a talented DJ and really had a touch for entertaining the crowd. He was very close with God and involved in his church. Though he struggled with his addiction, he had good control over it for 8 years. And then, after all that, creating a life, a business, getting married, having a child, devoting his life to God, he still lost the fight. This addiction is no joke. No matter how hard he would try and how good things were, it was still there sitting in the room waiting for him. All it took was one time for him to fall back into old habits, and it took his life. Leaving behind a ton of broken hearts and, worst of all, a little girl without her daddy. The only peace I get from losing my husband is knowing now his fight against addiction is over. Stay away from it people...and if you're in recovery, know it could be that one relapse that could be your last.

Sam always had demons from a rough childhood that haunted him and left him feeling like he would never be good enough. We had so many long talks about it and he would always tell me about the pain he felt. When he turned to drugs to numb the pain, things just spiraled. Sam and I used together and then got clean together, time after time. When I got the phone call he was gone and he had overdosed while living in California attendingrRehab, my world was flipped upside down. Losing him almost killed me but with him as my guardian angel, he got me through and 11 years later I am still clean and have a beautiful daughter. I owe that all to him. He saved me from myself and made me wake up and want to do better for him and his grandmother and my own family. There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss his contagious laugh. He would do anything and everything to make people laugh. He was an amazing man, best friend, and brother to so many people. I know he is smiling down, and always with his few close friends that made it out of the disease of addiction.

Brittany was someone who lit up a room from the second she walked in. Her love of life radiated from her. Everyone who knew her, knew how stubborn she could be but they also knew that she would drop everything in a second if they needed her. My only hope is that through the haze of addiction, she knew just how loved she was. She was truly special and the world will not be the same without her in it. In her honor, we will help break the stigma of addiction and offer hope to those who feel lost. We love you, Britty!!

There were two different brothers I knew, one before addiction and the one after. Before his addiction, he was a funny, athletic guy that loved hanging with his friends and family. After addiction, he was moody and not present. These drugs took him over so fast I can't really pinpoint when this all started for him. He was a very private person who didn't share a lot. We had to almost pry it out of him. My sister could get things out of him sometimes but it took awhile so we do not know for sure when he started using. All I know is it was fast and then it was over. He could never admit he had a problem but all of his problems were caused by the addiction to Xanax and Oxycontin. He never got treatment for his addiction because in his head he didn't have a problem. He felt things so hard I think that's what drew him to those drugs. He unfortunately lost his short battle on 1/20/13 at a friends house. They found him in the basement, he died in his sleep after his friend went to bed upstairs. I wish they had found him sooner to either save his life or donate his organs so he could have lived in some way. He had so many friends and family that cared for him. I think what I miss most is the little things like what he would be doing right now and when I would call him he wouldn't say anything he would breath into the phone, which always made me laugh. I will never forget you little brother. I hope you found peace finally.

Michael "MAF" Fennig was an amazing person and had a way of infecting you with his personality. He was quiet yet funny, serious yet witty, smart and cunning; always supportive & reassuring. A friend to all – and a lifelong friend to many. He was very athletic; he swam, played soccer & lacrosse through high school. When the family got a vacation home in Deep Creek, his attention turned to snowboarding in the winter and wakeboarding in the summer. Mike loved the color red, animals of all kinds, sleeping in late and going to bed late, selfies, the gym, working hard, the Green Bay Packers, the WVU Mountaineers, Chipotle, Vans shoes and most importantly, his family and friends. Mike decided in his mid 20s that he wanted to pursue his career goal of being in the insurance industry. On his own, he sought out local employers and met his goal: He landed a job as a Senior Claims Representative at a large national carrier. With the job, he was able to get an apartment, pay his bills/debts and, as he would say, become a contributing member of society.

About Mike's Struggle with Addiction:
Mike battled addiction for seven years. His addiction stemmed from a dual diagnosis of ADHD and anxiety. He struggled with substance abuse of opioids and heroin during this time. He had first asked for help in 2012 after he had a breakdown to his father and knew he had to change his life. He was in and out of rehabs and lived in multiple recovery houses. He had highs and lows: periods of sobriety mixed with periods of use. He was a pillar of support for his friends of similar struggles. Some of his friends have admitted that they are alive today because of Mike's help. He felt a constant need to be "normal" and thought he could manage this struggle on his own. He lost his struggle at age 27 after a period of relapse.

What will we miss the most?
We miss everything - just being with you. There will always be a void in our hearts. We know he will always be by our sides and we continuously keep his memory alive in our daily actions and encounters with friends and family.
From his parents: We will miss your infectious presence, our shared love of Green Bay Packers, Orioles baseball and all WVU sports, talking every day and saying "I'm ok! Don't worry about me!".
From his sister: He was my other half. I miss our venting sessions, gym & chipotle dates, and meal prep Sundays. I miss your hilarious Snapchats and your unique social media strategy. I miss you every day, but know I have a pretty awesome guardian angel. #fennstarforever

We love you always, Mike.

My daughter was so beautiful. I miss her smile. I would do anything to trade places with her. My life will never be the same. I wear her clothes and her makeup as it makes me feel closer to her. Although I know it makes her mad. I love you Diana, I love you more than words can say. I want you back. I need you in my life.

Robin - The Man
Born 18.02.1976 to Robin and Sylvia (deceased) in Leicester, UK .
Adopted by Diane (mum) at 6 years of age. Brother to Kristie, Simon, Peter and Jemma.
Sadly, Robin, died in his sleep suddenly, on Sunday 02.10.16 @12.22am, in Wembley, London.
This was totally unexpected and a complete shock .
Robin had be successful in recovery for over seven years, beginning his journey at StreetScene in Bournemouth.
Robin dedicated his working life to helping recovering addicts and their families.
He worked for Drug and Alcohol Services at Spectrum, in Camden, London.
He was the Learning Disability Champion at CGL Recovery, Hatfield.
Awarded the Purple Star for his dedication and commitment to offering a high standard quality of care for all of the service users .
As a devoted Leicester City Football Fan, Robin had a huge tattoo of the city emblem on his midriff! Which he suffered great physical pain to perfect.
One of his main loves was dogs. His sisters would teasingly refer to him as "The Dog Whisperer".
A Kind, Caring, and Conscientious man, Robin was a very loving person whom believed in old fashioned values and morals, such as integrity, compassion, and loyalty.
Never afraid to say what he thought, Robin had the courage to stand by his convictions, even if that meant standing alone.
Quick to help out, if he could, Robin was always there in times of crisis and would offer comfort, support, and help until a solution was achieved.
Tenacious, practical, and thoughtful, Robin would be resolute until the end.
A cheeky grin, with a wicked sense of humour, Robin had the ability to always lighten the mood, make you smile and uplift your spirits.
He is a larger than life character, whose personality and presence will be greatly missed, he leaves a huge hole in the lives and hearts of all of us, who were lucky enough and indeed honoured, to have been a part of his life's journey.
May He Rest In Peace and Love.
His death is being used to raise awareness of Addiction, Recovery, Suicide Prevention and raise money for Streetscene.(Bournemouth) and Caring, Giving, Living (CGL) Recovery Services.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/robin-francis-ali

Marcus was 21 years young when he died of an accidental heroin overdose.

Even with two emergency visits for horrible withdrawal symptoms, we were unable to get him into a detox facility. Despite this, he successfully detoxed on his own with the help of non-addictive blood pressure and anxiety medications prescribed by his pediatrician. He attended a very inspiring 4-day Anthony Robbins “Unleash The Power Within” event with his father in San Jose towards the end of his detox. He came back positive he was not only going to beat his addiction but he was going look into becoming a Recovery Coach and write a book that would help others do the same.

Marcus had an intake appointment for an outpatient rehabilitation program on November 16th. Unfortunately, we didn’t remember a previous warning he gave us, that he was worried if he didn’t have any opioids in his system when entering a program, they wouldn’t prescribe for him a maintenance medication he thought would help him avoid relapsing. He felt relapsing would be imminent without a medication such as methadone or suboxone. He knew about the anti-craving medication called Vivitrol, which stops the body’s response to opioids, eventually eliminating cravings, but he felt he would just end up overdosing trying too hard to get high.

We believe that is why, after about 11 days sober, he went to use that morning, before his appointment. He died in his pursuit of his sobriety. He incorrectly believed that he needed opiates in his system to get into a program.

He was found unresponsive in his car in a convenience store parking lot. It had been too long before someone noticed he wasn’t moving so even though the EMT team was able to resuscitate him, the brain damage was massive and irreversible. They estimate he had been without oxygen for 90 to 120 minutes. He was pronounced brain dead two days later but they continued to sustain him with life support and medicinal therapies while they found patients in need of his vital organs. We stayed with him until they took him to surgery the following evening. We are told that 6 of his organs were successfully transplanted to renew and sustain life for 5 recipients. We can only hope those lucky people will live on with some of his spirit in them.

The wave of Marcus’s legacies will touch many people. He inspired many people we know to register as organ donors and to donate to the Open Door Mission in excess of $10K so far.

Marcus was such a love. We miss him terribly and we want to help bring this growing crisis of opioid addiction and senseless death to a stop.

We lost our beautiful boy, Bryan Michael Barney (beloved son, brother, fiancé, nephew, uncle, friend, colleague) to a heroin overdose sometime between the late evening of February 10th and the afternoon of February 12th, when I (Mom) found him in his locked bedroom at his home. We know it was an accidental event and speculate that it may have been the result of tainted heroin (toxicology results won’t be available for several more weeks, but stories of tainted heroin have been prevalent on news reports in our area recently).
Bryan was extraordinary. He was smart. He loved electrical engineering and always had projects going outside of work – most recently he was working on building a drone. Bryan was compassionate. He had many, many close friends who considered him to be family. He was loyal to them, but also always took time with anyone who needed a friend. He was inclusive. Bryan was caring. He took extra time with a friend in need – always there for them and always trying to help them to conquer whatever was causing them to suffer. Bryan was funny. He had the best sense of humor and was truly the life of any party. If Bryan was there, there was bound to be a good time. Bryan had the biggest heart. He loved his family, his fianceé, his friends, and his colleagues. He was fiercely protective of the people who he loved, and would do anything for them.
His addiction became known to us about 2½ years ago. Every day since, we lived in fear of finding him dead of an overdose…but he always assured me that would never happen, and that my daily phone calls and check-ins were unnecessary. That being said, he allowed me to make them, understanding my need to know he was OK. He often ignored the first call, but if I called twice in a row, he would always answer. His battle with addiction was full of ups and downs. From phone calls where we would have sworn he was healed – his clarity was remarkable – to family visits where his slurred speech and slow movements were hard to watch. We were comforted in his last few days, as he was in great spirits. Laughing and joking, excited to return to work after an extended leave due to surgery. Everything seemed to be looking up. Until that Sunday, February 12th, when his fianceé alerted me that she’d been unable to reach Bryan since Friday evening. That Sunday, I made four calls in a row with no answer and then with great dread, got into my car to go to his home just a mile away, praying to God the entire time, asking that he be OK. I had the only spare key to Bryan’s bedroom, and unlocked the door to find him cold, discolored and nearly unrecognizable – it is an image I wish I could forget.
Hundreds of people attended his wake and funeral, offering their hugs, love, words of comfort, offers of support and “whatever you need.” Sadly, there is nothing anyone can do – we’re told time will make this loss bearable, but we will never be the same.
There is a great need to end the stigma of addiction and create programs that help those in the clutches of opiate addiction to find a way to exist without the drug. We are grateful to Shatterproof for their work and through them we hope to become personally involved in this crusade.

Jordan's life is divided into two sections - before and after heroin. The boy that existed prior to his drug addiction was socially awkward and unsure of himself - but the light of my life. He followed me around wherever I went and we were a team. In July of 2011, two weeks after graduation, he flipped his new car and it rolled several times, burning literally to the ground. This was the beginning of a revolving door of court rooms, probation offices, hospitals, mental wards, rehabs in two separate states, jail stays, felonies, misdemeanors, and heartache.

This drug stole him from our family many years ago - turning him into someone none of us knew. He would have moments of clarity - and wrote letters from jail saying he was done with that life and wanted to move forward.

Jordan had been in jail and was released on 1/28/17. He did well for 3 weeks, working and keeping it together. The whole family was so proud of him - but no one as much as me. Jordan turned 24 on 2/14/17 and I found him dead on 2/18/17 from a heroin overdose. He had received his first pay check the night before.

I struggle to wrap my head around him being gone and cannot seem to understand how my life can move forward without him.

Cash Owen was born January 18, 1995. He was the light in our lives; with a beautiful smile and infectious laugh. As a toddler, Cash wore his cowboy boots with swim trunks, dragging his toy shotgun behind him (a true Texan) to Deep Eddy Pool. From an early age, Cash loved learning and was self-motivated to pursue his interests. He was eager to read biographies of our country's leaders and learn about the Civil War. Becoming an avid coin collector at the age of 7, Cash enjoyed going to McBride's, talking with the ladies, and sharing his knowledge that was way beyond his years. He was intelligent, charming, and so witty with his dry humor.

As Cash grew older, his interest in food became apparent. His sophisticated palate led him to become a great cook, and we always knew we were in for a treat. His latest hobby shared with his mom was eating the 12 spiciest dishes in Austin (never a meal without a serrano in hand). Spending park time and gym time with his twin, toddler sister's became a common occurrence. They adored him, and he often awoke to them bouncing on his bed and yelling, "Tash, Tash". The last few months were the best. He was truly present, as though his spirit was healing.

Sadly, Cash struggled with addiction. He willingly sought treatment on numerous occasions, but as we know, this is a disease that, for many, is incurable. Cash's valiant fight to find sobriety, happiness, and a sense of calm ended February 9, 2017. Addiction is a horrible disease that the mind and body cannot fight; stealing far too many lives. We are not ashamed of Cash's addiction, but proud of the battle he waged against its grip; a death grip. We are thankful that God took him home where he is safe and at peace with the many lost boys and girls who have found the freedom of pain, depression, addiction, and suffering. There is no judgement. There is no shame. Taken far too soon, we write this not to dishonor his memory, but to shine some light on an illness. It is our hope that compassion, understanding, and recognition of addiction, begins to replace the stigma of this disease.

Cash was preceded in death by his Uncle Boone, Grandmother Joanie, Great grandparents, Mimi and Poppy, and Grandmother, Chloe. He is survived by his mother, Jacy; stepfather, Brian; sisters, Columbia and Paloma; father, Phil, his beloved Mimi, Joycelyn, grandparents, Sam and Shelley, along with his aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Words can never express how much he will be missed. A Celebration of Life service will be announced at a later date. In lieu of flowers, please consider making a contribution to: www.shatterproof.org

Quite simply we will miss everything about him. His quick wit, his laugh, his infectious smile. Danny was so much more than what he showed most people. He was deep and sensitive and cared very much for others, especially those less fortunate than himself. He was not a materialistic person, and was known to give his last dollars to someone in need. Despite all of his wonderful qualities, Danny did not always see them in himself. He struggled with self esteem from a young age. After graduating from high school, he was disappointed in options and was introduced to opiates during his first semester of college. This began his 6 year struggle with addiction. He went at least 7 different times to treatment programs and found the most success in Southern Florida. Dan had long stretches of sobriety and did his best when he recognized himself as an addict and followed the 12 step program. He hated heroin, and did not want it to be part of his life - but fell victim to the disease and the escape it provided.

Cynthia is the one and only child of her dad and his wife Ruth whom she lovingly referred to as "Mom." They involved her in sports and she obtained her black belt in martial arts at a very young age. She is highly intelligent which gives her the ability to master any task set before her.
She was very independent as a teenager. As with many teenagers, her need for independence, coupled with her level of intelligence, gave her a false sense of security in believing that she could make her own decisions and live her life without the need for guidance. These choices let her into the dark world of chemical dependency.
Cynthia found herself with an addiction to "speed." She was able to kick this habit and shortly after finding out that she was pregnant with her son Andrew. He is the love of her life, the reason for her existence, her entire world. There is absolutely nothing that she would not do for him.
Eventually, drugs reared their ugly head once more. Cynthia's drug of choice this time was heroin. An insidious drug that caused her to become a person that she hated. After her parents begging and pleading for her to get help, she agreed to go into treatment. Because she had no insurance, she made the decision to go into a treatment facility in Tijuana, where her brother was also seeking help. Within 24 hours of her admission, she was found deceased, in her room, from an accidental overdose.
The devastation that her passing has caused her family is indescribable. It is a pain that will never be alleviated, regardless of time. The only thing that allows her parents to continue to move forward, is her beautiful son Andrew. They are committed to ensuring that he never forgets what a beautiful soul his mother is and the endless love that she had for him.
The stigma of heroin abuse must be smashed! Those who struggle with heroin addiction are not people living on the streets with a needle in their arm! Cynthia was a hard working mother, a daughter, a wife who had a home, dressed well, had a love for tattoos, and was a productive member of society! Heroin does not discriminate. It doesn't matter what race, religion, or financial status you're in. For those who find themselves in the grasp of addiction, the end result is one of the following: Jail, institutions, or death.
As you may have noticed, we have referred to Cynthia in the present tense because she remains very much alive in our hearts. We know that she is with our heavenly father, watching, and sometimes visiting, her son as well as her mom and dad. She is missed every single moment of every single day. Her memory will live on......forever. <3

Kathryn was an innovative small business owner and world traveler. She taught English in Taiwan and South Korea, and lived in England briefly. She had an infectious personality and laugh. She had a way of making everyone around her feel special. Her addiction to alcohol and Xanax ended her life on November 26, 2015. She will be remembered for the amazing things she did in her 29 years in life.

Harrison, singer | songwriter| rapper | producer.... had "aspirations bigger than your whole town".

The Subvers!ve Music Foundation has been set up in his memory to support youth in respectful, non violent, drug free music: www.subversivegang.org