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

Joel died from complications of heroin and meth use. It was a sad, inevitable end to the battle he waged for at least 15 years and included the usual litany of rehab, sober living, relapse, jail, and the desperation of those who loved him most. He was a prolific writer and talented hip-hop artist - he was an old soul in a young body who never found a comfortable place in this world. He was so much - and not enough - all at once. How we miss his goofiness, his depth, his capacity to love, and his eternal optimism that he could beat anything. When that optimism died out, his end was near.
His rehab experience ranged from basic warehousing - to "gold-plated" 30 day stays with results tied to how much money you had - to forced compliance tied to sentencing - with minimal success. The best treatment he received was the last one - as a condition of early release under California AB 109 he went into a holistic program that incorporated medical treatment, psychological counseling, work release, and job training. Finally, treating the whole person, not just the addict. He did so well we began to hope for a sustained recovery - it was during this program that he first learned he had a serious heart condition that his SUD had only made worse. The most frustrating thing about this program - it would never have been available to him as a non-offender. The options for treatment are woefully few - for this one, you have to show up high. For that one, you have to show up sober. For another one there are no beds so just keep coming back. None of this is conducive to the lifestyle of the addict. Our hearts were broken over and over and over again.
Sadly, Joel began to believe the lie that he no longer needed step studies, meetings, or accountability. The phone call you think you're ready for - you never are. Funny, irreverent, talented, Jesus loving, rhyme spinning Joel - I'll see you again.
"I love you in a place where there's no space and time."

Morgan James Parker Flynn, of Monroe, NY, died unexpectedly on July 11, 2019. He was 27 years of age.

Morgan was the loving son of Elise Ann Flynn of Delmar, NY, and the late James D. Flynn, Jr., of Troy NY.

He was the grandson of Pauline Mathusa and the late Parker Mathusa and the late James and Janet Flynn. He was born on June 16, 1992 in New York City, NY.

Morgan graduated Monroe-Woodbury HS 2011. He was a proud member of the IBEW Local 3 Apprentice Program, preparing to become an elevator technician.

Morgan loved the outdoors, family vacations at the beaches of Cape Cod, riding anything with a fast motor, and cruising in his GTR. He was fiercely devoted and loyal to his family and friends. Morgan was lighthearted, with a quick wit and had a contagious smile and laugh.

He could talk on and on for hours with almost anyone. Morgan was so handsome and charming and was always cracking jokes. He was happiest relaxing at home surrounded by his family, friends, and the family dogs. Morgan loved life and lived it to its fullest. He was a teacher to us all.

We are comforted knowing he was greeted in heaven by his devoted Dad and loving grandparents and know that his spirit will always be guarding us with love, protection, and strength.

Survivors include his mother Elise Ann Flynn, sisters Caroline Flynn and Pauline Flynn and her partner Ricky Tynes, grandmother Pauline Mathusa, and numerous loving aunts, uncles, and cousins.

He will be laid to eternal rest next to Pop in a private ceremony at Our Lady Help of Christians Cemetery in Glenmont, NY.

My brother was one of a kind. He had energy that took over a room and could not be denied. He was unusually tall, with a booming voice, and a sharp sense of humor. But he had a dark sadness in him that he fought so hard for over a decade. His struggles with addiction stemmed from untreated mental health illness. He was always so sensitive, like he felt everything more than anyone else, which fed into his addiction disorder.

I miss all the little things. Talking about new music. Fart jokes. Ripping on our parents for being lame. But I mourn all the big things that will never be. He'll never see his kids grow up to be the wonderful humans they have already become, he'll never meet my dog who he would adore as much as I do, he'll never be a shoulder to cry on when our parents are gone. And I'll miss seeing him smile again, miss hearing his dumb voice, miss feeling the sharp pain as he knuckle punches me in the tricep.

It is truly unfair that he is gone. The world deserved to know him better, the real him. He deserved better than the cards life dealt him. My parents deserved to see him happy and healthy. My sister and I deserved decades more together with him. Unfortunately, addiction doesn't care what you deserve, it only cares about feeding itself at any cost. It doesn't care about burning bridges or breaking hearts or destroying lives; just like a parasite, it only cares about its own survival even if that comes at the cost of the host.

I cannot wait for the day where stories like this don't exist. Enough is enough.

Pauly was always the life of the party. Even as a child, everybody wanted to be where Pauly was.
What happened to him was an accident and never should have happened. He was in a program, working the steps, and had one slip-up that cost his life on the Friday before St. Paddy’s Day.
Pauly’s loss was, and will always be, a traumatic event for his friends and family. He will be dearly missed always.

Maggie was a free spirit that loved and accepted everyone for who they were. She adored her nine nieces and nephews, and they loved her back. She was the “fun” aunt. Maggie lived in many places and made friends wherever she went, friends she always stayed in touch with. She had a caring, loving soul with a deep spiritual awareness that she liked to share with others. Maggie was loved so much by her family and will be greatly missed. She was so special to all of us.

Brittany was a loving and caring person. She had a bubbly personality and a contagious smile that lit up the room. Brit always gave the biggest, tightest hugs. She will be loved and missed forever.

We Miss Allen So Much 😢

My son passed away from an overdose of fentanyl after getting kicked out of his sober living home. He had the most contagious smile that lit up his face.  💜

It is so hard to live without him 😢 

Rest In Peace My Beautiful Son 🙏

This picture is me and my son Jeramy. He passed on March 2nd of this year. He overdosed on heroin. He was an addict with schizophrenia. He was my best friend. I tried so hard to save him. For five years, I tried all I could. I got him out on corrections for stealing from me, hoping the courts would straighten him out. I was scared to death I was losing him. I fought the good fight, no stone left unturned. But I lost the good fight. Jeramy was found by me, in his bed at 930 in the morning. It's a pain that nobody can grasp until it happens to you. I cry daily- I miss my son....RIP SON.....I LOVE YOU JERAMY!! 😗😗😇😇

Seth is my baby brother and best friend. In the last few weeks of his life, he was the best he had been in a very long time. He was kind, giving, patient, and loving. Everything indicated that things were looking up for his life and his future. However, my brother was was more lost than ever. It seemed as though the change in his heart caused conflict with his actions. He just couldn’t bear it. My brother did not commit suicide, but his struggle with the world and his demons did end his life. My heart skips a few beats just by writing that. My brother was unlike any other. He was funny, witty, charming, and easily burdened by the weight of the world. I would’ve done anything to take that weight off of him. Rather, God did. There will not be a day of my life to pass that I don’t long for him.

My outgoing, hardworking, kind, beautiful son; now with Jesus and whole, but our hearts are forever broken. He was doing good until he made the decision to hook up with some old buddies, just to catch up. One brought black tar heroine. Don’t think you can do it just one more time. My David was just starting his own business and looking forward to life. 💔😭. Mama

Michael is my middle son. He fought hard trying to stop his addiction to Opana, Xanax, and Oxycodone but the drugs won. They were relentless, exposing their ugly head around the corner or just right up the street.
Michael loved working on cars and electronics. From a very young age he would take electronics apart and once put back together they would work better than before. Working on cars was Michael’s passion. If anyone were having car trouble he would usually set aside whatever he was doing in order to go help the person who needed him. Most times he did this for free, as well as on many occasions he would purchase the part needed if it were not expensive and if he had the money.
The day of Michael’s death, he had just been released from eight months of incarceration. We hoped and prayed that after this stent in jail that he would remain drug free. We were tragically wrong. After our phone call with Michael, my husband and I decided to go visit before I had to be at work. I had been in a bad mood that day. I had woke and had a terrible feeling, I knew something bad was going to happen to someone. I just didn't know who this bad thing was going to happen to or what was going to happen. I couldn't shake this feeling and anxiety was rearing its ugly face. I worked that day. I wanted to call in and spend that day with Michael, but I couldn't because there was no one to cover my shift. Oh how I wish that I had called in anyway but as everyone knows, hindsight is 20/20.
At some point, Michael got his hands on Opana and Xanax, never taking into consideration that he was eight months sober and his 6’2” body could not tolerate that much medication. Additionally, mixing the drugs, he created his own death cocktail. According to Michael’s autopsy report, they found no new track marks so unless he hid it well, he crushed the pills and snorted them rather than injected them. There is a lot more to Michael's story. It would take a lot more time but I know positively that from approximately 8pm until pronounced dead at 2am Michael had fought hard to live.

The city detective was ”supposed” to investigate Michael’s death, but we live in a small town and to them he was ”just another addict” who took more than he should have and died. End of investigation. Michael was an addict but he was my son, he is not just a statistic.
Michael was released from jail at 10am and was pronounced dead at 2am, Michael only survived 14 hours after he was released from jail the day he died.

Ian was a son, a grandson, a partner, a dad, a fierce friend, and a stranger to no one. He wanted the best for anyone he met.

April had such a beautiful soul. She was a mother, daughter, sister, and best friend. She had a passion for life and would light up the room with her presence. She is loved and missed by so many!

Jeffrey John can be best described as a young man that loved passionately. His first girlfriend at 14 became his pillow and he would go on being in love until his passing (he was in one steady relationship from 18-26 and left a baby boy whose mom is raising him with a lot of Love). How long J.J. got high? - perhaps since his first joint at 14 (as told by a teenage buddy who told the story of smoking pot in the backseat of his older cousins car on the way to see the movie "The Fast and the Furious").

Jeffrey's heart opened after a divorce at the age of 13. The usual circumstances involving stepfathers, being uprooted from his community, the loss of his dog, all hurt Jeffrey. He was always a wide-eyed beautiful boy until his demise at 26 years old, three days shy of his 27th birthday.

He rebelled. Family and friends describe a very loving, gregarious young man when they speak of Jeffrey. He always worked and always had a plan. We, as parents, close and far away, did what we could with our sometimes limited resources. Through all of this, he was loved by many (his parents, his partner, sisters, relatives, friends, and co-workers).

I saw my son a week before his passing, on Thanksgiving Day. He emanated a brooding sadness and loneliness that brings near tears to my eyes as I write this. But the following week he would buy a car, be told of his baby to come and he was okay. Jeffrey was not known for being sad; he emanated a great presence, a loving smile, and a hearty laugh. Even his tough persona (some would call him Heff in his fighting days) was spent defending wimps and knocking out jerks. Unfortunately, addiction, a system of illegal substances, and drug dealers in the county killed my son, and today we have only his memory and spiritual presence to sustain us.

The morning they found him in his car (a car he had just purchased) it was too late and now Jeffrey remains our companion in spirit - keeping his memory and presence alive.

www.jeffemanate.com

My son Nicky had a smile that would light up a room. He was always there when someone needed his help. He loved his family very much. We miss his smile, his laugh, his sense of humor. Our family will never be the same without him. Nicky we love and miss you so much, son.

James was an amazing person. He could do damn near anything with his hands, from working on cars to roofing and carpentry. Man I miss him so much. They don't only hurt themselves when they start using but everyone around them. I'm a father of six kids and I see every day how hard it is on my other kids. Their hearts are broken missing their older brother. I try to be strong for them so I go in my room by myself to remember you. James Kenneth, I love you and miss you every day. Not one goes bye that I don't think of you.

Laura Lee Johnson, wife, mother, daughter, friend, and sister, died on Friday May 31st of a drug overdose. While her death was not unexpected, there were always brief periods of hope where we thought she may have found a pathway to happiness.

Born on May 16, 1977, Laurie grew up on a beautiful sod farm in the rolling hills of Pittstown, NJ. She was known for her golden curls, sparkling blue eyes, and contagious laughter.

Shortly after high school, Laurie went to live with her mother in Wilkes Barre, PA. Though she had used alcohol and marijuana in high school, it was here that she was first exposed to opioids, which began a deviant relationship that eclipsed her entire life.

How do you capture a person so singularly in a cold, one dimensional obituary? A girl both wildly loved and who loved wildly, yet whose adult life was riddled with poor choices due to substance use disorder?

As her family, we were first hand witnesses to Laurie’s comedic charm and quick wit. When you were in her company, friends can contend that she wanted to stay. Sadly, in the end, her closest friends were police officers, social workers, public defenders and judges, who tried unsuccessfully to advocate for her through to her death.

Briefly a hairdresser, waitress, dancer, and phlebotomist, her proudest achievement was the birth of her daughter Alisabeth. After having Alissa, Laurie tried unsuccessfully to remain sober. We will remain forever grateful that she had intermittent glimpses of sobriety and hope. During these times, she bestowed her love of Disney Princesses and singing loudly to the infectious music of Prince to her little angel girl.

We know that Laurie loved her family but she struggled to love herself, which only contributed to her downward spiral. Over the last five years, her disease brought her to her knees, and we have all forgiven her for each unspeakable thing that she did, which we know only increased her guilt and shame. We know that her most recent relapse and ultimate loss of custody of her daughter was both unbearable and soul crushing.

Pray for her parents, Laurie’s angelic five year old daughter Alisabeth, and her husband Jahun as they navigate the uncomfortable maze through a loved one’s death.

We trust you are finally at peace, Laurie. Godspeed.

William Andrew Gunby "Andy" was a husband and father of two beautiful girls. He lost his life from an overdose, laying on the floor of a dirty gas station bathroom. He was going to detox the next day in a different state, but his addiction had other plans. I miss his smile, laugh, his way of thinking. He was my soulmate, my best friend, my everything.

Nick was my older brother, and my very best friend. He died of an accidental overdose of heroin mixed with fentanyl, home alone by himself. Went to sleep and never woke up.
His death shocked many people because he did not act like a “drug addict”. He was a great hockey player who played all his life and created many relationships and touched many lives. He was a loving, kind, funny, and amazing person and one of the greatest guys I have ever known. I was truly blessed to have him as my brother.
But he had a demon inside that he could not battle anymore. His addiction was a struggle for six years. Overdosing two times. Second time leaving him with short term memory loss. My family and I did everything we could to help him but it was not enough. He felt too much pain, depression, and loneliness that he needed to “self-medicate”.
He thought he had control of it, until it took him away from us.
We love you Nick, forever.