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

🌻 Our beautiful little girl, our baby, our angel, our hero... You have made the most amazing memories for your family to cherish. You have touched every single soul you’ve ever crossed paths with, your energy, your love for life and everything in it shined through your smile and your heart every single day. This is not goodbye. It’s another part of your journey, and you have decided to continue your journey the only way you know how and what you’ve always done giving to others. We listened to the surgery teams land above us by helicopter... we wept... we prayed... we kissed you and watched you enter the operating room to give your huge beautiful heart, your liver, your kidneys, your pancreas, and your big beautiful green eyes! Your little sisters will forever cherish the love and memories with you. We love you princess. You will be with us everywhere we go and with everything that we do. 🌻 We make a wish every single day at 11:11 as you did! 💫💚

Rickey was a very fun and lovable person. Very talented and outgoing. Believed in living life to the fullest. He was a good man and a wonderful father! He lost his life being murdered by someone who was deep into their own addiction. Even though I know he is at peace and celebrating with Our Lord and Savior it doesn’t take the pain away. I pray all the people who are suffering from addiction reach out and try to get help before it leads them to a life in prison or, much worse, death.

Shaun struggled with addiction for many years. He started with pills like so many of his young friends. He gradually moved onto other drugs ending with heroin. It’s heartbreaking. I never expected to lose my 28 year old son.

35 years ago our mother, Joan, was a thriving single mother, business professional, active and athletic, healthy person who lit up any room she entered. Then a vehicle accident caused by a drunk driver left our mother with a broken neck, having to relearn how to walk, among other injuries, and ultimately introduced her to opioids. At the time, opioid addiction was never even in the back of anyone's mind. This addiction proved to be a gateway for her into many other forms of addiction, prematurely taking the fun-loving mother we once knew away from us. Due to complications related to those addictions, we ultimately lost her. There is no easy way to cope with the loss of a loved one, especially losing one to addiction. But, hopefully the stories shared on here will help save someone else's life.

In Loving Memory of:
Allison Mason, my mommy
From her children-Jordan & Jace,
her parents, brother, and all that loved her.
I love you!

Kevin became addicted to meth about six years ago. He had three bouts of sobriety in that time, two for six months and one for two months. He became further addicted while in prison and began using heroin off and on. Kevin truly would use any drug given to him, but he got worse after he was released from prison. Two months ago he was ready to get sober. He went to rehab for the first time and was doing fantastic. He had a slip while cleaning his room and came across a shard of meth and wasn’t yet strong enough to throw it out. He used it, stayed up until the next day, came home and told us that he had messed up and was going to get back on track but he needed to get some sleep first. He went to bed and never woke up. Kevin was such a character, smart, funny, and spontaneous. So loved and will be missed. He is forever in our hearts.

Shane was a former student, the class of ‘97 Hale Rangers. He was a happy go lucky athlete. One of the boys, always smiling. He was a jokester but never really meant harm.

Shauna was my former student, my son’s former coworker and former employee and my granddaughter’s former coworker. She was a high school dance team member. Most of all Shauna was loving, funny to the point of silly. She had sparkling blue eyes, dimples, and a smile like sunshine.

Ben loved life and loved others deeply. Sensitive, intelligent, caring, strongly athletic, introverted, often suffered in silence, very capable, quietly confident. He suffered a knee injury playing ice hockey and was given an opioid painkiller. He must have been susceptible to these substances and developed a regular pattern of substance use. He fought hard against the disease, including successful rehab and halfway house programs. I don’t think he got the medical treatment he needed to heal his brain; he was very wary of programs that basically tried to argue or counsel you into health—ultimately he was cheated by recovery systems supposedly there to help.

Forever missed. Son, brother, father of two beautiful girls.

My brother Anthony was truly what you would call "one of a kind". He had a personality that was larger than life. He was kind, charismatic, charming, loving, caring, selfless, and so many more wonderful things. My brother also struggled with addiction for 15 years. In those 15 years, I saw him go from a person with unlimited potential and drive to someone unrecognizable. As strong, willful, and intelligent as my brother was, addiction was that much stronger and smarter. I couldn't believe how much it changed my brother. Anthony ALWAYS took pride in his looks. Before his addiction he was always well dressed (designer clothes only), had impeccable hygiene, was employed, and self sufficient. By the time he passed away, he was none of those things. They were all stripped from him. I will never forget how much it hurt me when I was looking for clothes for his viewing and he had none. All of his belongings fit into two garbage bags. That was NOT my brother, that was the addiction. I cannot even begin to express the hurt, disappointment, anger, rage, and every other crazy emotion I feel. I HATE that addiction won this battle. I HATE that my brother is gone and I will never hear his voice or listen to him go on one of his many political rants. Addiction ripped our family apart. We will NEVER be the same. We love you brother and will miss you every single day. Until we meet again....

Damir struggled with addiction for more than seven years. He got addicted while he was in high school. He was stealing his ill father’s narcotics and when that became unavailable he switched to street heroin, which was readily available on every street corner and very cheap. He was trying to self medicate his bipolar disorder. Because of lack of adequate health insurance, he never got proper treatment--not for his bipolar nor for his heroin addiction. He desperately wanted to stop his addiction but lack of access to proper medical treatment defeated his multiple efforts to get help. He overdosed on fentanyl on 10/18/2017. That’s why I’m here, with Shatterproof, to raise awareness about this devastating disease and hopefully to save other lives since I couldn’t save my son’s life.

Austin, our Angel. He was a brave soul, and we lost him on October 13, 2018 at age 24. He struggled for three years with addiction, treatment centers, and many overdose. We were his life support system towards the end. Austin was an amazing young man with much dignity. He was a hard worker. Our hearts are empty without him. Brother Corey, also Austin's best friend, is one year sober and his mom Laurie is 16 years sober. We were Austin's biggest fans. We love you Austin Michael.

My father was a very ambitious, hard worker who owned many successful businesses. He was a weight lifter, football player, track runner, saxophone player, and had a smile and personality that could light up a room. Raised by a WWII drill instructor for a father, his life was abusive and in the 60s and 70s he was told by his mother to never spread your families dirty laundry, which included getting help. My dad was a great man that self medicated for 50 years to bury his demons because he didn't think he could ask for help. Through his attempt to bury his demons he learned that they always come back once the "medication" wears off. Alcohol to pain pills to cocaine then all at once until he down spiraled quickly from a success story to the inability to care for himself. Over the years of his addiction he gave himself diabetes, pancreatitis, and a
heart murmur that he had since a child worsened. He suffered a brain aneurysm 10 years prior to his death and spent the last of his years in and out of hospitals being cared for by my amazing stepmother. After spending 10 days in the hospital, he came home, walked to his truck to go out for a beer and died of a heart attack next to his truck. His body was found that evening by the police sent to search for him. I miss every phone call, conversation, and most of all his smile. My father no longer suffers from his addiction, his demons, or his health. He is no longer fighting in his own head, the demons have layed to rest, and my father is finally at peace.

Hope is my miracle child. She was conceived via IVF, after years of infertility. She is such a beautiful soul. So kind, thoughtful, funny, quick witted, athletic, beautiful, loving and loved. Softball is her passion and helping others was also a passion.

She was raped at 13 and had a rocky relationship with her father. At 15, she was offered a pain pill to help ease her internal pain. She overdosed shortly after she started using, recovered, and was rehabilitated for two years. After suffering loss of a job and boyfriend, she relapsed. Shortly after that she became the girlfriend of a heroin addict. He gave her the first shot of heroin after running out of money for pills and she was immediately hooked. This was just after turning 18. She went thru jail, rehab, prison, jail again, rehab, then prison again. She fought so hard against her disease and it was her desire to become a counselor so she could help others like herself overcome addiction.

It was Hope's Hope that one day, no others would have to suffer from this disease like she had.

32 days after being released from prison, she used one last time.

She kissed me, hugged me, told me good night and that she loved me. I found her dead the next morning.

Hope's Hope is becoming a reality, for I am working hard to make sure her story is told. By starting a foundation with the goal in mind, if I save even just one person then Hope's Hope will be realized.

Steven was always my baby boy.
He towered over me and was quite the big man but he was still always my baby. He called me momma and always told his friends what a great mom he had. He also told them not to mess with me because they'd be in big trouble if they did. (He had them all fooled) He was proud of his momma.
Steven was smart and so very funny. Just thinking about the good times makes me giggle. It was his desire for me to be proud of him and I was.
Steven struggled for about 15 years with drug addiction. It started off with pot and just increased to heroin. I was in denial for a long time because he wasn't "raised" that way. Addiction runs DEEP in our family and I was the one that was going to break it. But, even though I did, my son could not.
Steven spent six months in jail and then six months in rehab. He came home to our house while getting back on his feet. He said he had promised God he would get his life together before he turned 30. Things were looking like he was going to be able to keep that promise. He was back to the son I knew before addiction took over his life.
Those hopes and excitement lasted for five days. He overdosed on Friday May 25th at our home. It wasn't heroin as we thought but it was fentynal. We still don't know what happened. I am so very sad.
I have learned so much more about addiction since he passed away and if I can help just one person to not go through this then I will continue to learn and share what I know.
I miss my son so very much. He would be turning 30 tomorrow if he were still here. I think about him all the time. He was so much more then his addiction and I focus on all the good, loving, and funny things that made him special. I love you Steven.

My Colee was an amazing young woman. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t do once she put her mind to something. She was not only my daughter but my best friend as well. That girl and I were each other’s rock. She was tiny with a huge smile, the kind that lights up a darkened room. The most beautiful blue eyes. She loved her mommy with such passion. Her name was Nicole but we called her Colee. She was brave and smart had a heart of gold. She is loved and missed and she was mine. Forever “24”, forever my Colee. Colee’s mommy. Always called me mommy.

My father was a WW 11 veteran who fought under general Patton. He returned from war an emotional and mental cripple who very quickly had eight children with my mother. Dad could never adjust to what life demanded of him. He drank and gambled every day of his existence after returning from war. I watched his progression as a young boy and witnessed far too much for a kid to endure without years down the road following his footsteps into my own heroin addiction and alcoholism. I am 42 years sober writing this. My dads progression was horrible. He eventually wound up addicted to prescribed medications, which, at age 49, he committed suicide. He never drew a sober breath and lost out on many things, especially his family. He rendered us poor and homeless for many years and was violent. I didn't know then what I know and understand now about the disease and its destruction. I was 16 when he died and hated myself for hating him. These are the dynamics of the disease as we now know. I'm a father of three children now and a grandfather and know much more about addiction then most men my age. What's strange about this is I've never had an opportunity to honor my dad for the things he did pass down to me. I've never publicly said thank you for fighting a war that saved not only lives but preserved civilization and freedom that I and my children live with now. My father was a smart warm loving man when at his senses. I know he suffered tremendously and wished he could have changed his world, but as Bill Wilson said, "No human power could relieve his malady!" My dad was powerless and never had a chance back then. So today, dad, just a couple of weeks after what would have been your 99th birthday, I say thank you, and I wish I could get just a couple of hours to pick that wonderful mind you never really had a chance to expand. I wish my kids could have met you also. And, lastly I want to say that despite many wrongs you did something right enough to instill in me that I wanted to be sober and healthy. You were my reason to even consider such a thing. Thank you dad. Thank you from the bottom of my sober addicts heart.

your boy,

rich Davis

Although Kelley was my husband's ex-wife, she and I developed a friendship. As the mother of my stepchildren, I felt it would be beneficial if we all got along for the benefit of the kids. She was a devoted mother and grandmother.

You would probably never look at Kelley and see someone who had a problem with pain pills, benzos, or muscle relaxers. For all intents and purposes, she appeared to be a typical mom who devoted her life to her children and grandson. Kelley had a dependency to pain pills that she recognized and tried to treat. She tried suboxone treatment several times but the doctors she sought treatment from were unreliable. She knew she had a problem, but at times, the pain she suffered was too much. When she passed, she was seeing a pain doctor again and had a prescription for strong pain killers.

The day she passed, Kelley had taken the same combination of medications nearly every day. No one expected that this time she would not wake. Her daughter Kayla tried in vain to resuscitate her mother. This loss is with us every day. Her children miss their mother, and the loss has cast a shadow that will never lift.

Ryan was a fun-loving, caring person that would do for anyone before doing for himself. I miss his smile and love for animals. I think Ryan tried to hard to please other people while not focusing on his own health. Ryan is missed by many but will never be forgotten.