#1Team1Cause

Read The Story That Started The Mission

Heroin and opioid addiction is real and it is here to stay. I have felt the unbearable pain of losing not one, but TWO sons to this horrible disease. Drug addiction is real. It is not a cold. It is not a sinus infection. It is not the flu. And, drug addiction does not pick and choose who it kills. Rich, poor, young, old, black or white – drug addiction does not discriminate.

My sons were just beginning to live, just learning how to live and what life could be when they became drug users. Both were dead at 26. Ryan was my oldest of four children and overdosed on February 15, 2014. Justin was my youngest and overdosed on January 11, 2022. I have two remaining children – a daughter Maegan and a son Brandon. I have two beautiful grandchildren, Cayden and Emileigh. But we are no longer a complete family and it hurts. It hurts worse than any physical pain.

Losing a child is heart-breaking for a parent. This is not how the circle of life is supposed to go. Our kids die in many ways, many through unpreventable tragedies. But dying from overdose is preventable. It comes down to making a choice, a choice to begin drug use or a choice to say no and walk away.

This is where we, together, have to do a better job of educating, nurturing, loving and just plain putting our foot down and fighting to save our kids.

Both of my sons were weak-minded. Strong, athletic and handsome, but weak. When adversity hit, they chose the easy way of fixing their pain. I tried to teach them well. I thought they were prepared for real world stuff. I failed miserably. I thought I was saying all the right things. I thought I was showing them love and I thought I was leading them down the right path in their young lives.

As I have come to realize, it was not my fault. As humans, we are given a mind and a free will. Individually, we are given the ability to make our own decisions, good or bad. Heck, we all make bad decisions as we journey through life. Most of our bad choices, we can correct. But drug addiction is a choice that is not easily rectified.

Many have tried to kick addiction and have succeeded. Those people have a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, many, many others, thousands upon thousands, are unwilling to fight. My sons gave up. It led to their death. In a way, I feel happy that they are no longer in mental and physical pain. Seeing the deterioration of someone you love is very painful. But, I also miss them like crazy. As bad as it was near the end, my selfish side wants them back.

My sons loved their parents. They respected us and never did any physical harm to anyone. But mentally, they kicked our ass pretty good.

Neither wanted to die. Both said they had their addiction “handled. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” they would say. Yeah, right. What they were doing was taking their life down a path in which they would never return.

My youngest son’s death is fresh. Just as we, as a family, were getting to a point where we were dealing with Ryan’s death, here comes another. In fact, a lot of Justin’s issues stemmed from Ryan’s death. Justin never completely got over losing his hero. The baby boy lost his oldest sibling.

Justin, born on February 27, 1995, was an amazing child. He was fun, talkative and never met a stranger. He could be on a playground full of strangers at noon and have 15 friends by 1 p.m.

Justin’s favorite movie was Saving Private Ryan. He loved the battle scenes and for a long time he wanted to join the Army. Justin loved seafood and pasta, pizza, mac and cheese and Chinese food. Justin also, strangely enough, loved 80s and 90s music. Justin loved Mountain Dew and Monster coffees. He also absolutely loved Caramel Frappe from McDonalds and a grande mocha frappachino from Starbucks.

Justin was a good student but honestly, he loved going to school mostly for his friends. He did his school work but school was his way of making friends and having fun. Taking away recess was easily the punishment he had most trouble dealing with. He would rather take on extra school work than miss recess.

He began playing t-ball and later baseball at Tom Conley Park, just as his older brothers and sister did before him. I started a travel ball organization, the Carolina Fury, when Justin was about seven.

I was coaching a 12-u team so Justin joined our 8-u team, coached by Mike Shier. One of my favorite memories of that time was when Justin was playing on that team.

Both of our teams were playing an early December tournament in Myrtle Beach. I remember it was pretty cold and windy the entire weekend. Justin’s team had an early game, like 8 or 9 am, so Justin went with coach Shier to the field and I said I would be there a little later.

They had a double-header that Saturday morning and Justin ended up pitching the first game of the day. Though I missed it, Mike told me he pitched very well and they won. So, I’m standing around and looking for Justin to get a hug and congratulate him but I couldn’t find him anywhere in the dugout.

I looked around and he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I found him. Believe it or not, Justin was literally taking a nap in an oversized bat bag! He was so tired from waking early and pitching, he just wrapped himself in the bat bag and fell asleep. If we had cell phones back then that would have been a memorable picture.

Like school, travel baseball was Justin’s way of making friends and having fun. He would play with any team that asked, again not so much for the baseball, but for the friendships and fun.

He loved to play for sure but the countless hours in hotels and amusement parks or eating out was what he enjoyed most. It was not uncommon for Justin to be the first one to shout out after a game, “where we eatin?”

That never changed. Even as he grew older, Justin loved being around his teammates, in the dugout, on the field, or in the hotel pool. When he was about 10, we took both Fury teams to Disney World for the AAU nationals. We spent a week there, played a lot of games and did the parks. Justin always said that was the most fun he’s ever had. If I was too tired to hit the parks, Justin would latch on to another family and be gone. And the other parents always told me how much they enjoyed Justin’s company and how respectful he was.

Justin came to Cane Bay High School as an eighth-grader, the first year of the school. He played on the jayvee team in that first season but became a varsity starter as a freshman. He started all four years of high school, first as a second baseman, then in the outfield. He also was a successful pitcher.

He won 11 games as a pitcher, which was the second most wins in the program through 2014. He batted .280 for his career, had 71 hits and 21 stolen bases. He also had an on base percentage over .400 because he walked and got hit by pitches quite a bit. All of those numbers rank him in the top 10 in program history.

Justin had an unbelievable changeup and curveball. He topped out about 80 with his fastball but his off-speed stuff allowed him to compete. His biggest win came as a sophomore in the state playoffs when he tossed a complete game four-hit shutout of Marlboro County. He threw just 74 pitches, and more than 60 were changeups.

While Justin enjoyed playing baseball, it was again being around the team that he loved most. The class ahead of him, the 2012 graduating class, had guys like Quinton Cable, Brandon Hall, Ty Wilder, Sean Bass and Zack Wimmer.

Justin absolutely worshipped those guys. They took him under their wing and kept him straight. Guys, if you only knew how much he loved you and played for you.

The 2012 team was really good. The best team in school history. Most of us thought they had a legit shot to win the Lower State title. They came up a little short, losing in the district finals. Justin was absolutely crushed. I can still see him and Brandon Hall standing in the outfield after the game, hugging and crying, for more than an hour.

It was almost two hours after the game before we made it to the car. Justin didn’t want to leave until everyone of those seniors left. We talked on the way home and I was trying to be positive and telling him that he still had another year to try to win it all. He wanted to hear none of it. He said over and over, “I wanted to win for the seniors. They deserved more. I wished I could have done more for those seniors.”

The next year, Justin’s senior year, they again lost in the playoffs. Justin’s high school career was over. He graduated along with his fellow seniors, guys like Cody Blewer, Austin Timm, Devon Higgins, Blaine Peck and Brian Dale Coleman. Those were guys he played with and against for years before high school.

Life after baseball was not good to Justin. Ryan died less than a year after Justin graduated. Justin had entertained the thought of trying to pitch in college but he was not enamored with the idea of more school.

So, he went to work. For a few years he continued to work at Matts Burgers in Summerville, a job he started while in high school. He became pretty good on the grill and was doing well.

But after his brother Ryan died, Justin started to change. He was shaken up pretty bad, like we all were, but he wasn’t able to continue to function as we did.

Justin was a follower, not a leader. That’s not a criticism. Not all of us can be leaders. Justin didn’t handle adversity well. Even when he was playing baseball, Justin didn’t handle it well when things didn’t go as planned. His mind often got the best of him when adversity hit.

Justin began experimenting with weed late in high school and after I expressed my disappointment and told him over and over that if he weren’t careful, he would end up like his brother. Justin always said he had it under control. “It’s just weed dad.”

Like his brother, weed led to experimentation with other drugs. Eventually, a few years ago, Justin became hooked on heroin. As I have learned, heroin is the absolute hardest drug to kick. It grabs your system and it never lets go. Justin lost his job at Matts. Lost another job then another then another.

His addiction was real. He began stealing from me and others in order to pay for his habit. He lost his jobs because of stealing money to help buy drugs. Though not out of control early on, Justin was definitely headed down a bad road.

Me, his mother, his family and others tried to get Justin to freely go to rehab but he refused over and over. We were told, as an adult, he had to willingly go to rehab and he steadfastly refused. He said the pain and agony of heroin withdrawals was far worse than the drug itself. Again, he wasn’t a fighter.

A turning point came for Justin came in July of 2019 when his friend Brandon Hutchison, also a Cane Bay graduate, died of an overdose. He and Brandon were inseparable for a few years. They fished together, hung out, and unfortunately, used drugs together.

Brandon made an effort to get clean and had gone off to rehab far for about a year. The two had lost touch and did not reunite when Brandon returned. Unfortunately, Brandon relapsed and died. Though they were no longer close friends, Brandon’s death shook Justin hard.

Our hope was that through losing his friend, Justin would see that he needed help. It didn’t. Things progressively got worse.

Over the last year, Justin was essentially on a destructive path that ultimately led to his death. He used facebook messenger to contact friends and family and ask for money. He would lie to people and say he was homeless and just needed money for food. The money was for drugs.

In 2021, Justin nearly lost both arms due to his drug use. He “blew up” a vein in his right arm and sent poison and infection throughout his body. A few months later, an infection in his left arm, which he kept hidden, exploded again. He almost died and nearly lost that arm as well. He spent two separate six week stints in the hospital and never regained full use of either arm.

Again, we tried to get him help. Brandon Hutchison’s mother Amanda tried to convince him but Justin said he couldn’t handle rehab because the withdrawal from heroine was too hard. He was heavily medicated for pain throughout his stay, which helped him avoid major withdrawals but didn’t help him kick it.

Justin weighed about 100 pounds at his death. He was unrecognizable, both in his appearance and his mental capacity. He also was a type 1 diabetic and had several issues with that.

He basically refused to take his insulin since August and the coroner who did his autopsy said his heart was not in good shape because of diabetes and drug use.

Though he and his mother divorced when Justin was six, Justin lived with me for most of the last 13 years of his life. We had some battles. I tried everything to break him free of his demons but heroin won out.

Just before Thanksgiving, Justin was out on Rivers Avenue panhandling for money. He met a guy who offered to take him to a “tent city” behind Wal Mart. He came home one day, packed his backpack and said he loved me but he didn’t want to be a burden anymore.

I still managed to see him most everyday since he left. He would call me from a store phone and needed some food or whatever. I would go meet him and beg him to come home. He didn’t need to be out there. He told me he felt safe. He said the people there were good, even though many were addicts themselves.

Justin was found dead in the bathroom of the Wild Wing café on January 11. It was a late night knock on my door that I had been expecting for a year but it was still the most pain I have ever felt. I was numb. How could this happen again to our family? I beat myself up daily, and nightly. I wish there was more I could have done. But Justin was an adult and he made his own decisions.

I have since visited the tent city. I wanted to know how he lived his last days. There were a few people who got to know Justin well and they all said he was a very nice guy. He was quiet and to himself, which is a big difference from when he was younger.

They told me he actually overdosed a few weeks earlier, but they have a good supply of Narcan and were able to save him. Justin never told me that, even in all of daily talks in my car. He always said he was fine.

A woman there also told me she bought Justin a small tent but 2 days later he gave his tent to another older man who didn’t have one. That told me he still had a good soul. He basically slept on the ground near the fire every night and would go panhandling during the day.

Again, any money he received went to drugs. She told me that several people told him he needed to go home, that he didn’t belong out there. Most of the people there had nowhere to go but Justin had a place to go and he should go. She also said Justin admitted that maybe coming out there was a mistake but he didn’t have the courage to ask me if he could come home.

The night before he died, I met him in the parking lot at Wal Mart. I brought him some Mcdonald’s and he sat in my car for a few minutes. It was very, very cold and he just wanted some heat. I asked him again to please come and sleep at home. He could leave the next morning if he wanted to. I was so worried about the cold.
Justin refused and said if I really cared I would give him 20 bucks. I knew what he needed the money for and I refused. There was no argument. He just didn’t have the energy to fight with me. He said okay and said he loved me then just got out of the car and walked away. His last words ever to me were “I love you dad.”

The Justin I saw that night was not the Justin I want to remember today. Images of how he looked are forever etched in my mind but we have many pictures here that display the Justin we all knew and loved.

We all will miss him terribly. His mom, his step dad, his brother and sister. His nephew and his niece, and his grandmother, and his former teammates and classmates and all of those who knew the old Justin.

As a volunteer baseball coach at Cane Bay and in my real job as a sportswriter, for however long I am on this earth, my life’s mission will be to speak to young kids, letting them know my story. These young teens that I deal with daily in baseball and in my job, I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that two of my son’s did. They were you not that long ago.

I will say to you that if you truly love your parents, you will not put them through the pain and agony that Justin has put our family through. A parent should never ever watch their child die before them.

​Unfortunately, I have seen two sons die because of demons and drugs. I would not wish this type of pain on my worst enemy. I lost a brother in October and that hurt. But nothing will hurt more than the pain I feel today. Please guys, don’t put your parents through this pain.

I am here for you. If you just need to talk, I will always be available. Baseball is the greatest game on earth but it will end someday. Try to have a plan that includes love, life and happiness.

And to the parents, you better love and hug your kids every single day. Even when they don’t want to be hugged, grab them and hug them. Let them know that you love them. “If Tomorrow Never Comes”, will they know how much you loved them?
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Please retweet, repost, share this to as many as you can. It’s a small start but maybe it will help save one life. Hopefully, many lives. God Bless You! With all of my LOVE.
 
David Shelton