Post by Jack Tillman on Aug 19, 2017 14:12:08 GMT -5
Chapter Nine
December 19th 2016
Springfield, Illinois
Age 20
I saw Kurt Newman in the rehab center today. He looked bad. Worse than I've ever seen him, and I've known the man since I was in diapers. He's lost his tan. Bags are under his eyes from countless sleepless nights, teeth looking yellow, grew his hair out and had a beard going. He had gained weight and lost a lot of muscle. His tone was off and was talking differently. He had even lost that twinkle in his eyes.
His name on his name tag was Kurt Newman.....but this wasn't the Kurt Newman I knew. This was like looking at a very different person.
Kurt had been in rehab for about two months and you could tell the he didn't like it there. For the first time in my life, I saw a man that I loved and inspired to be some day now a shell of his former self. Scared. Fidgety. Always looking over his shoulder. Had trouble making eye contact. He begged myself and Chris Constantine to get him out of there. He promised everything under the sun that he would never touch drugs again. That he would pour out all his alcohol down the sink. That he needed the pain meds because his surgically repaired knees were killing him. Promises. Promises......so many promises.
He promised us before in the past. We believed in him. But he fooled us over, and over, and over again. You burn enough bridges with someone that they just stop building the bridges. One last time for salvation with Kurt. One more time for Kurt to earn his trust with his friends and family. This was the final straw. It had to be. This was the final promise that he broke. No more deals. No more tears. No more I'm sorry. This was it.
We had to be strong. We had to hold our grown. Because if we bought it this time, then this might be the last time we see Kurt Newman alive. So for Kurt's wife. For Kurt's friends and family. For Kurt's kids. For Kurt Newman.......we sent him to rehab so that he could get his life back on track.
We kept the conversations short. How are you doing? How are they treating you? Making any friends? Small talk. He answered but I couldn't help that everything he said had an angle. That he was trying to shame us our guilt us out of getting him out of there. He knew he fucked up. He knew he had a problem. He wanted to fix it his way though. Let him get lost in some country and find himself.
We tried that once. We hadn't heard from him in a year when he left. Got a call from the US embassy in Taiwan saying that they had Kurt in custody with a pound of cocaine on him. That was the straw that broke the camels back. So we got him back home and brought him to the rehab center. Kicked and screamed the whole way back. He was no longer a hero to the masses. No one to look up to. Someone you didn't want your kids to grow up to be. He was a child that had hit rock bottom.
I don't know if Kurt will ever be the same again. I don't even know if our friendship will ever be the same. One day at a time I guess. Chris says time heals wounds. It's going to be awhile until this wound heals.
December 19th 2016
Springfield, Illinois
Age 20
I saw Kurt Newman in the rehab center today. He looked bad. Worse than I've ever seen him, and I've known the man since I was in diapers. He's lost his tan. Bags are under his eyes from countless sleepless nights, teeth looking yellow, grew his hair out and had a beard going. He had gained weight and lost a lot of muscle. His tone was off and was talking differently. He had even lost that twinkle in his eyes.
His name on his name tag was Kurt Newman.....but this wasn't the Kurt Newman I knew. This was like looking at a very different person.
Kurt had been in rehab for about two months and you could tell the he didn't like it there. For the first time in my life, I saw a man that I loved and inspired to be some day now a shell of his former self. Scared. Fidgety. Always looking over his shoulder. Had trouble making eye contact. He begged myself and Chris Constantine to get him out of there. He promised everything under the sun that he would never touch drugs again. That he would pour out all his alcohol down the sink. That he needed the pain meds because his surgically repaired knees were killing him. Promises. Promises......so many promises.
He promised us before in the past. We believed in him. But he fooled us over, and over, and over again. You burn enough bridges with someone that they just stop building the bridges. One last time for salvation with Kurt. One more time for Kurt to earn his trust with his friends and family. This was the final straw. It had to be. This was the final promise that he broke. No more deals. No more tears. No more I'm sorry. This was it.
We had to be strong. We had to hold our grown. Because if we bought it this time, then this might be the last time we see Kurt Newman alive. So for Kurt's wife. For Kurt's friends and family. For Kurt's kids. For Kurt Newman.......we sent him to rehab so that he could get his life back on track.
We kept the conversations short. How are you doing? How are they treating you? Making any friends? Small talk. He answered but I couldn't help that everything he said had an angle. That he was trying to shame us our guilt us out of getting him out of there. He knew he fucked up. He knew he had a problem. He wanted to fix it his way though. Let him get lost in some country and find himself.
We tried that once. We hadn't heard from him in a year when he left. Got a call from the US embassy in Taiwan saying that they had Kurt in custody with a pound of cocaine on him. That was the straw that broke the camels back. So we got him back home and brought him to the rehab center. Kicked and screamed the whole way back. He was no longer a hero to the masses. No one to look up to. Someone you didn't want your kids to grow up to be. He was a child that had hit rock bottom.
I don't know if Kurt will ever be the same again. I don't even know if our friendship will ever be the same. One day at a time I guess. Chris says time heals wounds. It's going to be awhile until this wound heals.
