Sunday morning music

 

Yesterday I heard the sad news that a man I'd known for almost two decades had died of a drug overdose.  I'll call him Steve (not his real name), because his family is in mourning right now, and they wouldn't want his name or location shared.  I daresay many of you have known Steves in your own life.

Steve got into drugs and alcohol in his teens, because both were freely available in the city where he lived.  Drug pushers used to hang around high schools, offering free hits to students in the hope of ensnaring them in addiction so they'd become long-term customers.  At that time Steve only indulged in marijuana, but as so often happened, it proved to be a "gateway drug" for him.  He cleaned up his act to serve a term in the US armed forces, but had some experiences in the invasion of Iraq that left a profound impression on him.  He began to use marijuana again, and was caught.  His commanding officer had enough compassion to simply refuse to allow him to re-enlist, rather than charge him with an offense.  In hindsight, it might have been better for Steve to be charged and convicted;  it might have given him a wake-up call.  Sadly, that didn't happen.

Steve parlayed his military training as a driver into a commercial drivers license, and spent long days on the road while studying part-time to become a diesel mechanic.  He continued to use marijuana, and to drink, which led to a couple of brushes with the law.  Again, sadly, the officers concerned "gave him a break" and didn't charge him;  just told him to "straighten up and fly right", took him off the road until he'd sobered up, then let him go.  Eventually, he was caught by an officer who played it by the book, and his employer fired him when he was convicted of DUI.  His CDL was also endorsed and suspended.

He spent a couple of years completing his mechanics training, working wherever he could find a job to earn enough to support himself.  During that time he met the lady who would become his wife.  They married the same week he graduated, and began to build a family together.  Three kids would come along over the next decade.  Sadly, Steve slid further and further down the slope of drug and alcohol abuse.  That put his marriage under severe strain;  I think his wife was something of a saint, because she didn't move out and take the kids with her.  She had a lot of support from her own family, who made it clear to Steve that if he lifted a finger to her or the kids, he wouldn't have a finger left to do it again.  He knew they meant it.

Steve began using harder drugs over time.  By 2015 he'd tried methamphetamines, and a couple of years later began using heroin.  I was far from where he lived by then, but I heard about it occasionally from a mutual friend.  By 2020 he moved out of the family home and lived on the street.  His wife and her family tried to get him the help he needed, but he wouldn't accept it, and refused to enter a residential detox program.  As always in such cases of addiction, one can't help the addict unless and until they face up to the reality of their problem, and realize that it's up to them to change.  One can't change them from the outside.

Steve's long decline and fall came to an end last Friday.  The cops suspect his last purchase of heroin was contaminated with fentanyl.  The autopsy will reveal the truth.

His widow and kids have had to do without him for a long time, but their strong family network has helped them get through his absence.  Perhaps now, with his malign influence no longer hovering over them, however distantly, they'll be able to make a fresh start together.

I've had far too much experience with drug and alcohol abuse, from working with street people in a church program in South Africa as a teenager, to serving alongside abusers in the military and the commercial world, to dealing with them as a pastor and prison chaplain.  The latter was the worst.  One would think that drug dealing and use could be more easily controlled in a high-security prison than on the street, but you'd be wrong.  Inmates can get what they want in various ways, and they usually succeed.  I've had more than a few long support sessions with inmates trying to break the habit;  but their own cellmates and fellow prisoners all too often actively try to sabotage their efforts.  It's almost as if they think that if one of their own can break free, it's a black mark against the rest of them, a revelation of their own weakness;  so they constantly try to drag others down to their level.  I never did understand that.

At any rate, I thought it might be informative to listen to some of the many songs about addiction that are out there.  Some of the most famous singers and entertainers in the world have fallen into that trap, and put it into words and music later on - those who survived, that is.  Many did not.  I need only mention Jimi Hendrix as an example.  Think of the music that died with him, that we've never heard!

Let's start with Johnny Cash and "The Junkie's Prayer".

From the same early 1970's era, here's Neil Young with "The Needle and the Damage Done".

During 1989, Joe Elliott of Def Leppard made a trip to Dublin, Ireland.  He says of it:  "I was distressed beyond belief to see so many heroin addicts just sitting around on the street corners, just shooting up in plain sight of everybody.  I got home and I just couldn't stop thinking about it, so I decided from a lyrical point of view that this song was going to be written from the inside.  In other words, it was going to be the heroin singing, or talking, or narrating the lyric to the listener."  That's what Def Leppard called the song:  "From The Inside".

In 1994, Nine Inch Nails produced the song "Mr. Self Destruct".  I don't like this song at all:  but I have to say, as an example of so-called "industrial rock" and a portrayal of the internal dissonance experienced by many drug addicts, it's ground-breaking and very important.  Its very nature portrays the reality of its title.

In 1997, Creed introduced the song "My Own Prison" on their first album.  Here's an acoustic version.

Finally, one of Def Leppard's guitarists, Steve Clarke, died of alcohol and drug abuse in 1991.   In his memory, the group recorded the song "White Lightning", released on their album "Adrenalize" in 1992.  In my opinion, it's one of the most powerful songs about drug addiction I've ever heard.  Sadly, the lyrics are sometimes obscured by the instruments, but if you need them, you'll find the lyrics here.  These two verses stand out in my mind as an epitaph for so many addicts I've known.

You wanna leave but you can't let go
You wanna stop but you can't say no
(You never laugh about it, you just can't live without it)
You've had enough but you just want more
You never get what you're looking for
(You never laugh about it)

You've got both ends burning
Like a moth to a flame
You're going off the rails
Like a runaway train
It's a no-win situation
And there's no way out
And no one will ever hear you - Scream and shout

May all of those who have lost their lives to addiction, and all those fighting it, and all those who love them who are trying as best they can to live with them and help them, receive God's blessing and mercy;  and may they all be given the grace to respond, preferably in this life, but if not, in the next.

Peter