Predictably, during this election season, there have been attempts to leverage the heartbreak into outrage. According to one pundit, our friend's death could have been prevented by mandatory drug rehab (despite the fact that there aren't even enough voluntary rehab spaces), and his death was the final tragedy after he fell into bad company after his grandmother's death (despite the fact that his grandmother is still alive and grieving). The two most recent deaths have also been used as ammunition by some to take cheap and uninformed shots at a local grassroots charity that provides street level care and advocacy for people (despite the fact that they never claim to be a rehab providing org).
I've been asked by people how I got into this whole thing. On one hand, I can point to my role and experience in founding that same organisation, 20 years ago in the town next door.
On the other hand, there's Danny.
He was two or three years older than I. I was 13 and in my first year of high school (I skipped a grade). Danny was, in hindsight, probably autistic. He and I had in common our self-designated bullies. Other than that, our paths didn't cross much but I knew who he was. He stood out.
He was on the receiving end of a lot of snickering and mockery, some of the same kind of active crap I lived with. Like people stealing the lock off my locker and rifling through the contents. Name-calling. The same kind of inhumane behaviour that blames someone for a death they didn't cause, and couldn't have prevented.
One summery evening, my older brother and two of his friends with a car included me in a trip to the local drive-in to watch a movie.
I can see myself right now, sitting in the rear passenger seat, looking out the window, waiting for the movie to start.
2 spaces to my right was another car. In the back seat of that car was Danny. He was flanked by two of the 'cool' kids from my high school. They had beer and they were holding the bottle up to Danny's lips. And laughing.
I didn't know what to do. What to say. I was 13 and they were 3 years older. They were guys and I was a girl. My brother and his friends were having their own conversation, so I just watched. And turned away.
A year later, Danny was riding his bike home along a dark stretch of highway, like the one between the two towns I call home. He was hit by a car. The driver left him there. He died. Someone found him, drove into town, and called the OPP. The responding officer was Boomer. Danny's father.
Danny was found to have alcohol in his blood.
Could I have prevented Danny's death? Boomer's devastation?
No. I couldn't. If I had been a remarkable 13 year old, like a 1970s Greta Thunberg or something, I would have marched over to that car at the drive-in, pulled the door open, pulled Danny out of there and into my car. I would have demanded we be driven home. I would have befriended Danny and stood with him. He might be alive today. Maybe.
Or some scumbag drug dealer might have found him and he would have become victim to some other parasite.
Like our friends here in town.
Since certain people seem to only be able to read things in all-caps:
- PEOPLE ARE UNHOUSED BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ENOUGH HOUSING
- PEOPLE ARE ADDICTED FOR A LOT OF DIFFERENT REASONS: NONE BECAUSE THEY CHOOSE TO BE
- LOCAL GRASSROOTS ORGANISATIONS AND VOLUNTEERS ARE DOING THEIR BEST TO KEEP PEOPLE ALIVE LONG ENOUGH TO GET INTO REHAB
- LOCAL SERVICE EMPLOYEES ARE DOING THEIR BEST, AGAINST THE ODDS, TO FIND HOUSING AND TREATMENT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY WANT IT
- JUST BECAUSE ONE PERSON IS ABLE TO GET OFF DRUGS OR ALCOHOL UNDER THEIR OWN STRENGTH DOESN'T MEAN MOST PEOPLE ARE ABLE TO DO THE SAME THING
- EVERYBODY DESERVES TO BE FED
I'm getting tired of writing posts like this. Someone I was speaking to recently about the broader state of our world said, "I feel like there are more endings than beginnings." I totally get that.
We, and people like Danny, need some good news. In the meantime, when we are grieving,
BACK OFF.
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