Stop Heroin

The Personal Testimony of Edward T. Yaekle

Introduction

“I was sick and I couldn’t get well.”

 The sentence above sums up my life on 3-10-06, the day I was arrested and jailed for 1st Degree Conspiracy to Distribute Heroin.  It speaks volumes about who I was and what I had done.

 Hope had turned into an unknown word and a foreign concept for me.  Years of addiction to opiates (in one form or another) had robbed me of hope and much more.  Not only did I permit this to come about, I actually helped it.

A Permissive Attitude

 Through my youth and into adulthood, I developed a very permissive nature concerning drugs and substance abuse.  It was a learned behavior, reinforced by my choices both in life and in “friends” or associates.  A sin problem was rampant and many were the “little foxes” that were spoiling my vine.  As they ate, these “little foxes” became ravenous wolves; even stampeding elephants, at times.

 As a child even, I convinced myself that I did not have an addiction problem.  From the age of five I was taking Phenobarbital and codeine for migraine headaches which the medical technology of the day could not explain (though later in life a golf ball sized cyst was found to be the culprit and removed from my brainstem).  This persisted for many years.  Truly, I was an unwitting addict as a child.

 The results of this were that later in life I was willing (especially after watching family members who also had addiction problems) to dabble in pot, alcohol, cocaine, Quaaludes and a myriad of other substances.  None were “to my liking”, so they merely added to my moral deficiency and decay.

Addiction Enters

 Getting knocked off of a 40ft. ladder (and the subsequent surgeries to repair my wracked and broken body) began what was a downward spiral into a full blown addiction to pills.  These pills were slow and insidious to take complete control, weaving their spell over a period of years.  It gave evil, immorality and addiction a foothold, a place where many more, deadlier evils could be introduced into my life.  I’m sure it played a huge part in my divorce.  It also contributed to my self-centeredness, anxiety and depression.  I do not shift or shirk any responsibility for this.  I allowed this in my life; in my children’s lives.  For this I am truly sorry.  My shortcomings in this area as a parent, are numbered as the stars.

 The years of narcotic addiction for pains both physical and emotional (real and imagined on both counts) allowed me to justify a lot of addictive, illegal, immoral and evil behaviors.  My “little foxes” names were “legion”, for they were many.  I had become someone I did not like, nor even recognize.  Minute by minute and sin by sin, I bargained away all my morals.    The pain pill addiction ran the gamut from Vicodin to Percocet, to morphine, to methadone, to Dilaudid, to Oxycontin.  Once the strongest of these became ineffective (orally) and I needed these to merely function (what is known as a chronic maintenance user), I began to use the Oxycontin tablets IV (in my veins).  At the end of this phase I was using 16 to 20 of the 40mg Oxycontin tablets IV, daily.    Cost prohibitive factors, ineffectiveness and inaccessibility eventually made heroin the only real choice left for me to continue this downhill descent into Sheol and Abbadon (Death and Destruction).

Organized Crime

 The Mexican mafia sells what is known as "black tar heroin".  It is very crude, but also very pure (rarely cut upon).  A "friend" introduced me (at my insistence, I must add) to the men in this underbelly of society.  At first I became a loyal customer to these people; next a “friend”.  Eventually I found myself using my Spanish speaking, leadership and organizational skills to work for these very scary people.  In fact, *I* was a very scary person, reflecting upon my actions and the life I chose to lead.

 My “job” in this underworld was to go from city to city setting up new “shops” in which to sell heroin.  I would establish an all new business and then hand over the reigns of a turn key operation to an “internal staffing group” from the same family for which I was working.  I did this for three different families (one of which would still enjoy seeing me tortured and dead) in eight major cities:  Columbus, Cleveland and Cincinnati OH; Indianapolis, IN; Louisville, KY; Charlotte, NC; Chicago, IL and Minneapolis/St. Paul MN.  These were considered my “territory”.  My stock and trade were the “5 D’s”:  Drugs, Disease, Despair, Destruction and Death.  My currency:  Flesh and bone. 

 Finally I achieved “independence” (with connections) here in the Twin Cities.  My habit had grown to massive proportions.  I was using 2 to 2 ½ grams ($500) of heroin daily, just to be “normal” (to avoid the debilitating and driving force of withdraw).  I had overdosed many, many times (probably in excess of 40 or 50 times) in many places.  Hotel and motel rooms, public restrooms of fast food restaurants and gas stations and even a five star restaurant; all of these saw me overdose.  My (then) 15 year old daughter had to see me to the hospital on Christmas 2005, as Daddy had yet again overdosed.  How glamorous.

 I worked harder in this profession than I have in any other endeavor in my life; 6am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 8am to 9pm on Sundays.  Seven days a week, no days off, nor holidays.  “Taking care” of my customers, my business and most important, my habit.  I smuggled drugs in buses, airplanes, cars and by foot across many borders.

Speedballs, Infections and Irreverisble Damage

 The opportunity to add selling coke (cocaine) to the mix was hard to resist (a lot of Heroin junkies mix heroin with coke so they could get a rush, so I would sell even more product).  The opportunity to USE the coke I was selling was even harder to resist.  I'd go through periods where I would speedball for months at a time.  The fact that I did not die in these times is sheer mercy and a little luck.  Often were the times (when I could find a vein) that I'd finally get it in after many hours of searching for that elusive vein in my arms, legs, feet, toes, fingers, neck, chest or anywhere I thought I saw something usable and then I'd find that I had really cooked up a hot load.  Any speedballer or IV coke junkie knows the rush, but when I knew it was too much, I would panic.  The first thoughts in my head were invariably "Oh, F*ck, Oh F*ck....   I F*cked up, I F*cked up, I F*cked up....  I'm gonna die..."

Evil In The Name Of Addiction

 Many also were the evil deeds I watched and sometimes even perpetuated in this pursuit.  I was directly connected to the suicide of a childhood friend.  He blew his brains out right in front of my eyes, after he’d threatened to kill another friend and me.   I was robbed at gunpoint three times in this business and chased by a carload of rival dealers who meant to torture and kill me.  Once, after selling a batch of "dirty" (bad and infectious, though unknown as such to me) heroin to a customer in Indianapolis, he returned and held a pistol to my head, forcing me to inject a load of my own dope.  He had it ready in one of his syringes and he had hepatitis C.  Through this, I contracted the disease.

Busted (Finally), Jailed and Clean for the First Time In Years

 By God’s powerful grace, I was finally busted.  The police caught up to me at 5am in Burnsville, MN in a hotel room where I slept that week.  I was thrown into the Dakota County jail along with the two Mexican young men (an ex-godfather’s or patron’s nephews) who were working for me.  Our charge, as I stated at the beginning of this testament was 1st Degree Conspiracy to Distribute Heroin. 

 The first ten day of jail were pure hell due to the intense, cold turkey withdraw from a heroin addiction which saw a daily dose large enough to kill an African elephant.  I had tried to quit on my own and with the help of detox centers (using AA, NA, etc.), to no avail.  Now I was faced with a “forced quit”.  I was angry, desperate and I truly wanted to die.  I did pray to God, Satan or anyone who would listen.  This was my plea:  Kill me.  But Satan had used me to his maximum benefit and was through with me for the time being.  God didn’t grant me my death wish, but He did send a female deputy, an angel named “Shepherd” of all names with a Gideon’s pocket bible.  The hymns in the front of this helped me maintain sanity through the worst of this.  The other deputies made fun of me because I’d sing these out.  I was also very sick and looked very funny, even scary.

 I had no control over my bodily functions.  I’d puke without end which would start diarrhea coming out the other end.  I’d sneeze, gag, sweat, freeze and shiver.  Deputies took my clothes and bedding from me, as I could not refrain from soiling them.  This left me on a cold hard concrete floor, with a wooden bench and a metal toilet for comfort for ten days.  I felt sick and savage; I was reduced to living like and animal.  I couldn’t eat nor even comprehend much beyond the sickness.  After these ten days, the worst past.  However, it still took about two months for all signs of withdraw to subside.

A Change of Heart and a Chance

 In the end, I spent 6 months in that jail. I became a trustee there, and worked 18 hours a day translating Spanish for the same deputies that (rightfully) made fun of me, and cleaning the jail. I took responsibility for the crime (from the young men who were working for me, as well as my own (they were deported)). I knew it meant a mandatory 86 months in prison. But I also knew that God had done something for me which I could not and at that point would not do for myself. What ever time I had left, it was a gift from God.

 He touched the judge’s heart.  The judge gave me a downward departure of sentence from the mandatory 86 months, to one year in a Christian treatment program called Minnesota Teen Challenge and ten years probation.

 Having been clean since 3-10-2006, God IS restoring those years the locust ate. I graduated the Teen Challenge program September 12th, 2007.  The Minnesota program has a Training Center (Ministry School) which programs graduates can attend.  I did this for a while until finances made this impossible to continue.  During that time I did become certified to teach the Personal Studies for New Christians course by Teen Challenge International.  The program introduced me to a real relationship with God and helped me to understand that I do not have to allow the little foxes to spoil my vine.  

 Pastor Earl Gilchrist (a teacher at MNTC) was one light in the dark who I have to honor here and now.  He inspired me and continues to do so today.  It is the wisdom he imparts daily and his marvelous book, "How I Got Over" which prompted me to write my own book.  Thank you, sir. 

Finally Smelling The Roses

 My 4th of July 2007 break/pass from the program was spent with my friend and mentor. His name is Don Bania Jr, and he is a quadriplegic who does mouth art and motivational speaking. He also coordinates efforts for Joni Eareckson Tada at Wheels For The World. I was blessed to be his houseguest.  I helped him with work and fellowship with him one on one, daily. His wife as well as his personal assistant Stacey are wonderful people, and I am privileged to call them all my friends.   Two years ago I was so self-centered that I wouldn’t have been within ten miles of this blessing.

 On February 25th, 2008 my friend Don Bania's personal care attendant (PCA), Stacey, and I were married.  Rock as it may, the boat has not tipped over.  We know where our assurance lays. 

Today

 Every once in a while, I get an urge to smoke a cigarette but if I wait a minute, it goes away.  There are no cravings for heroin.  I think it beat me hard enough to stay away for good, finally.  Sometimes in honesty I must say that I do think "Gee, an Ativan, Ambien, Valium or Xanax would be nice, just to go to sleep", to myself.  Then I have to really check myself and realize the implications of the lie I am telling myself.  Just admitting that to you, here and now is proof of the difference in me and my behavior.  As an addict I would have "kept that desire secret", as I would have wanted the option to remain open to me.  Now I know that darkness cannot exist in the light.

 There have been some health issues affecting my life since getting clean, but I have been delivered from the evils of addiction, self-centeredness and hepatitis.  It really does take a transformation and complete renewing of your mind to escape the trap of addiction.  For me, the bible has been my "owners manual" for life.  It lets me know how I should act and what I should do, next (speaking to general guidance).

 An excerpt from My Upcoming Book is included on this website.  Within you will start to see the workings and machinations of the addict and dealers brain.  Click the link for details.

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