Most of my life I tried to rationalize my circumstances, believing things would be different if I had been given the ‘White Picket Fence’ dream.  Instead – I’m a product of my environment.  I grew up in a community plagued by gangs, violence, drugs, and HIV/AIDS.  It wasn’t until I met my friend, Scott Moore, I was able to accept the path I carved out for myself.

Scott literally had a white picket fence around his home, a home fully paid for by his thirtieth birthday. He married a preacher’s daughter, and they have three beautiful children.  His grandparents owned a farm, and his eyes light up when he shows me photos of riding horses with his big brother.  He lived a life I wish I had, and yet he’s two cells away in this hellhole we call prison.  I didn’t understand why.

It wasn’t until the day I sat listening to one of his stories about being a cable guy in East St. Louis that I found the courage to ask how he ended up in this place.

“Well, Alex,” he said, “Heroin is how I got here.”

It all started when he was just a kid, and his parents got divorced.  His older brother processed the divorce with great difficulty.  Scott was able to bury his feelings, but his brother turned to drugs, and it led to an opiate addiction.  While his brother was entering in and out of prison, Scott was able to finish high school and found a high-paying job.  He kept it together on the surface, believing he had overcome his parents’ divorce, and he couldn’t empathize with his brother.  He would even go out of his way to put him down, hoping it would help him get his act together.

Things were fine in Scott’s life until one day when he went to visit his mom at her home.  He found her severely wounded and his brother dead in the basement.  It’s easy to see when Scott talks of this storm in his life, that it haunts him.  After he dialed 911 he grabbed his brother’s pills, and his own addiction began. 

He watched his mother have three surgeries on her brain and steel plates inserted to support the damage to her skull. The pills had a numbing effect, and he took them to keep his heart from continuing to ache. When his mother came out of that first surgery, he was the one who had to explain to her that her oldest child was no longer alive.

The pills led to abusing heroin because it was easier and cheaper to score, and his life spiraled out of control. He alienated himself from his family, and the relationship he had with his wife and kids suffered.  He lost his job.  Eventually, he was arrested for first degree murder in Madison County.

I’ve been around plenty of heroin addicts, but Scott is not a person who fits the criteria of the average addict.  Instead, I see someone who did not know how to deal with a crisis and sought to remedy it the way his brother did, a brother he could no longer turn to.  I see someone trying to sweep up the remaining pieces of his life by righting his wrongs.  I see someone who longs to be with what’s left of his family.  I see a man truly sorry for the choices he made. 

Scott is not only a brother to me and our close knit group of friends, he’s also a mentor in the beloved community we are building within these walls.  When any of us are down, he’s able to lift us up with his light-hearted nature and wealth of pop culture knowledge. When any of us need consultation, he’s available and ready to offer his advice. He gets up every morning using his past as a driving force to make himself and others around him better.

If I had the power and resources to give someone a second chance – this person would receive it.  Without knowing Scott, my own personal growth would be stagnant and incomplete. His story and how he’s endured and overcome his addiction is helping to transform the lives of those around him. No one knows the storms we’ve each been through until we take the time to get to know each other, and if you encounter someone suffering from addiction, I pray you remember Scott’s story. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR. I’m happy to say Alex Negron is the winner of our first writing contest of 2020. This prompt brought out the advocate in many, and it was heartwarming. If we could all take on the practice of looking out for and speaking up for each other – the world would be a better place. Mr. Negron can be contacted at:
Alex Negron R17084
Stateville Correctional Center
P.O. Box 112
Joliet, IL 60434