Chapter 3: The Road to Hell

One of the first things I did when I got of rehab was try to find Tony, the guy whose parents called the cops on me and got me put in rehab in the first place. We were driving close to his house and I said, “Let’s go get Tony. I’m going to kill that guy.” The person driving me said “Man, you are too late he’s already dead! He was huffing Freon out of an air conditioner and he froze his lungs and died. They found him naked, blue, and dead in his room.” His death should have hit home, but it didn’t. I felt bad for saying I wanted to kill him, but not that bad. I didn’t even give a second thought to quitting drugs or even to quitting Freon. Boy, was I stupid!

I had spent the first 6 weeks of 10th grade in rehab, but while I was in rehab my mother moved so now I went to yet another new school, Martin High School. This school had lots of money, lots of preps, and lots of stupidity. There were several thousand students there so I just blended in and did my thing. I don’t even think I got in any fights. I could be wrong, it all blends after a while.

I fell in with some druggie friends and started getting high again. I had been clean for about 10 weeks. The first few times I got high I just got a headache, but then it kicked in and I fell in love again. I loved the escape of it. I loved the thrill of it. I loved the danger and the risk. I loved feeling different. I loved everything about being high. It was a slice of heaven to me that I never wanted to leave. I quickly moved up from the petty stuff I had been doing too much bigger doses and bigger deals.

6 weeks later we moved to a duplex in another part of Arlington and I went to yet another school. I met a guy who had a brother that was a big time dealer. He would get me lots of pot! I was going through several ounces a week, personally! For the first time in my life my grades actually started slipping. I had always been the guy that didn’t have to study and still got straight A’s. I had Biology right after lunch and I was always so incredibly high for that class that I just slept. I still managed to get a 69 for the 6 weeks, which was barely an F. I had actually gotten an F, and I didn’t care one bit.

I was partying hard! I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I would go across the street at Arlington High and get stoned or buy or sell drugs. It is amazing how much drug use goes on all around us everyday that we are oblivious to. A friend of mine had a brother that was in love with acid. I wanted to do acid so bad I could taste it! He finally let me have some. The first time it didn’t do anything.
I was talking about it to a friend of mine and someone overheard the conversation. They said two things that stuck out to me: 1) “ Acid is dangerous! It is made with strychnine, which is rat poison. You take more than two hits and it could kill you.” and 2) “ I know a guy named John who got into acid. He overdosed and now he is a Christian. Now he preaches to people all the time. He is up in the northwest somewhere in the woods.” I thought he was an idiot at the time, but for whatever reason what he had said stuck with me.

I didn’t care. That would never happen to me. I would never be a Christian. I hated those people! What a bunch of hypocrites! Hiding behind their religion, afraid to do anything fun. I was going to do whatever in the world I felt like doing and nobody, and I mean nobody was going to stop me!
So, I got a hold of another hit of acid and I ate it. A bunch of us had gone out to the woods. There was a huge swing someone had put across this creek. One side was a lot higher than the other. We had just gotten high again and we were running through the woods for some reason when the acid hit me for the first time. This acid I had taken was called Dancing Test Tubes.

Acid is the most indescribable experience in the world. It is like trying to explain a dream to someone. Unless you were there it just doesn’t make sense, and of course who can be there with you inside your head? Just you, that’s it. You are the only one who sees what you see. It is as if all your senses just got cross-wired or something. You see the world like you have never seen it before. Everything is fluid. The walls breathe. The grass and the trees grow right in front of you. The floor crawls. Everything around you is alive and doing something different. You can’t possibly take it all in! It is total sensory overload!

The first thing I noticed was that acid affected ALL your senses not just your sight. I had always heard that you saw weird things, like watching a movie or something. You stood on the outside and watched the show. That isn’t true at all. You are sucked right in! You hear weird things that aren’t there, things you can’t even imagine... until you have done it. Of course you see things, lots of things. Your mind turns into a huge brainless stew of everything you can’t even imagine. Your taste is different. Your smells are different and bizarre. Everything you feel is foreign. It is like being in another world! It is like leaving earth and never really coming back.

They say that you never come down off of acid, that you just get used to it... and I believe that. Every other drug goes through your bloodstream and eventually washes out through urine or sweat. It might take 6 months, but eventually it is gone. Not so with hallucinogens. They go to your nervous system, to your brain, and to your spinal cord! They can do a spinal tap on you 50 years later and it will still be there. If you have ever done it you know what I am talking about. If not, just take my word for it.
The other thing you do is laugh for no reason at all ... for hours. Until your whole face just hurts from laughing, and then you laugh some more. I can’t describe what I saw out in the woods that day. I know that I smoked a half-ounce of pot that day and at some point I realized I just can’t get any higher, but I couldn’t sleep because of the acid. I LOVED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Coming down sucked though! It feels like your whole body is sore and tense and in pain. Plus the real world starts kind of coming back, which is no fun at all! I was so paranoid when I went back home that night. I thought it was written all over me. I thought everyone knew what I had done. I had crossed a line for sure. The next day I realized that someone had stolen all my money and a huge sack of weed from me while I was tripping on acid. I was so mad!

I became one of the biggest drug pushers around. I wanted everyone to get high all the time. I shudder to think of how many people I actually convinced to do drugs. It is a big number. In just a few weeks I had gone from doing no drugs at all to doing everything I could get my hands on. I got my first job at Chuck E. Cheese Pizza, in Arlington. I cooked pizzas, washed dishes, dressed up as all the Chuck E. Cheese characters, and sold drugs. There was no time when I was awake that I wasn’t high. Any drug that came along was fair game to me. I was afraid of nothing and no one.

I was taking enough speed to stay up for weeks at a time. I was smoking a half-ounce of pot a day (about $50 at the time). And I started taking acid every chance I got. I quickly moved up to taking 4 or 5 hits at a time, several times a week. I would have done it more, but I soon realized that if I did it too much it wouldn’t even get me off since I had built up such a tolerance. So, I could only go 3 or 4 times a week. I had hook-ups with big time dealers and I quickly realized that I could support my habit easier if I sold drugs. I was already pushing them, so I might as well make some money at it. I made quite a bit of money, but I spent it all on drugs so all I really did was support my habit.

After a little while I got fired from Chuck E. Cheese’s. They said I had stolen a hot dog for another employee. Everyone did that, though. I had sold some speed to my manager and I think he told someone else. It was pretty obvious what was going on though. Every 30 minutes or so some long haired greasy looking guy would come up to my job and ask for me, we would go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and then he would leave. I always had lots of cash and I was only making $3.50 an hour. I was always willing to take the trash out back and I always came bake looking slightly more baked then when I left a few minutes before. What in the world did they think was going on? Of course I was selling drugs out of there! Anyway, I got fired. I didn’t really care that much. It was just a cover anyway.

One day my mom came home early from work and I was at home tripping on acid. We talked for about an hour. I know I had to have said some pretty stupid things because I was lost in space at the time. My mom had done a lot of drugs earlier and I knew she knew what was up. I just figured she was being cool about the whole thing. She caught me stoned, tripping, skitzing, drunk, and any other kind of messed up that you could find someone. Finally, she told me that if she saw me high one more time that she would call the police on me.

I know that she was under a lot of stress at the time. She was a single mom making almost nothing with 4 kids to support. Three of which had already been in rehab and were some of the biggest problem children in the area. And the other one, Chris, was still an infant. Looking back, I don’t know how I could have been so cruel and selfish to her. Especially considering how wonderful of a mom she had always been to me. Either way, I wasn’t myself at the time. I’m sure what she had said was just an idle threat, but what she didn’t know was that I had a quarter pound of pot and a sheet of acid in my guitar case. That was a lot of drugs! That was enough to get me in some serious trouble. I had heard the punishment was one year in prison for each hit of acid you had on you AND if there was intent to sell, which there was, then it became manslaughter.

I didn’t take any chances. That night I told my mother whatever in the world she wanted to hear, went to my room, packed my things, and snuck out of my window. I ran away again. This was the last time, though. I walked for miles and miles and miles. I was homeless for a little while. I took the drugs I had and turned them into money and then bought more drugs with it. Because I always had drugs, I miraculously always had a ride.

My friend Russell and I were going in halves for all the drug dealing. I was fifteen and he was seventeen. We had this dealer that we were buying our pot from. He would sell us a pound for about $800. We would divide it into 64-quarter ounce bags, make each bag just a little light, keep the extra for us and sell the quarters. We would make about $1600 off of a pound of weed. We would also sell acid, speed, cocaine, pills, and once again anything that we could get our hands on. It was good money for a homeless kid. Especially when you figure we were selling about a pound a week or more plus all the other stuff.

So, anyway this dealer we bought from always freaked me out. He had guns everywhere and was always on edge in the biggest way. He was paranoid like crazy! There were always lots of people at his apartment and there were bricks of marijuana everywhere. One day we had run low so we were going up to his door to get another pound. We had something like a thousand dollars on us and we were about ten feet away from his door when the door busted open and cops came out of his apartment fighting with him. They were handcuffing him right there in front of us! If we had come one minute earlier it would have been us going to jail too! We just turned around and kept walking and acted like we didn’t know the guy. That was one of a hundred close calls that happened just like that to me.

Another time we had almost run out of money and these two teenagers said they knew somebody that would buy everything we had. We agreed to meet them in the football field of Gunn Junior High at midnight. Four big guys showed up. They threw us up against the bleachers and frisked us. I was thinking what in the world are you doing, are you guys cops? They pulled out guns and knives and threw us on the ground. They put a knife to my throat and a gun to my head and made me give them all my drugs and all my money. They did the same thing to Russell. The two guys that set the whole thing up started screaming like little girls and tried to run away. The big guys caught them and beat them up a little. They were crying and screaming for mercy. It was pathetic! The only thing I could think was “Man this sucks! Now we won’t have any drugs or any money! How are we going to make it?” I tried to hide some of it, but they found everything we had. Then they stood us up and got behind us. They threatened us a little and then told us to run as fast as we could. They said if we turned around they would shoot us. I really didn’t believe them. The two cowards started running as soon as they let them go. Russell was right behind them. I didn’t want to be the only one left behind so I ran too. I was so mad!

When dealers rob other dealers it isn’t like we can go tell the cops or anything. “Uh, yes officer those goes stole my drugs and my drug money. Go get them for me.” Yeah, right! Fortunately Russell had a job and his last check came in right after that. It was enough to get us back on our feet again. I was thankful.

Shortly after that we moved in with this girl named Jane. She had a baby named Tory. At first we were just sleeping on the floor, but there wasn’t much room in her apartment and pretty soon I was sharing the sofa bed with her. We started having sex shortly after we moved in. Once we had an actual place to sell drugs, our sales went through the roof! We had so many people coming through everyday it was crazy! We got evicted from 5 apartment complexes and a mobile home trailer park in less than 6 months! We were big time dealers. I got a job at Chapp’s Hamburgers for some stupid reason, probably because Jane was working there. I hated working!

I was pretty late for work one day and my manager showed up at our trailer. It was hot and we refused to turn on the air-conditioning so the front door was open. I was asleep in our room in the back. He walked right in and back to my room. Everyone else in the place was shooting up, except me. So there were needles all over the place. There was every kind of drug paraphernalia lying around that place. In my room alone there was a set of scales with a pound of pot just sitting out waiting to be quartered up. He woke me up and told me that he was also a narcotics officer. He said that because he had come in without a warrant that he couldn’t pursue prosecuting me this time, but that I should watch my back and that I could count on getting fired soon. I did get fired. Oh well. But I didn’t go to jail!
We had lots of stolen stuff in our place because drug people quickly run out of money so they start bringing anything else they can get their hands on. We had a whole room dedicated to stolen stuff. We had radar detectors, TV’s, VCR’s, stereos, guitars, amps, electronics, and every other gadget that was out at the time. Someone had stolen a white B.C. Rich Warlock guitar from a blind guy and traded us for drugs. Now I had a black Warlock and a white one. I was cool! One day the captain of the Kennedale Police Department came and paid me a visit. He knew about the guitar and apparently he knew about everything else as well. He threatened to arrest me. I played dumb, so he legally couldn’t do anything. He made sure I returned the guitar to the blind guy through someone else. So, I did. No big loss. We had lots of stuff!

A few weeks later we noticed that a police helicopter seemed to be circling right above our mobile home. We freaked out and grabbed our drugs and our cash and a few things and got in this guy’s car. The helicopter followed us for a long time. At some point we ended up at an intersection. We were making a left turn. There just happened to be a car to our right that looked just like ours that was making a left turn at the same time and so it looked like we just went straight. The helicopter followed the other car instead of ours. We decided to leave the state because the cops were getting too close to us.

That night we stayed in a motel in the absolute worst part of town for only $7! It was one of the scariest places I think I have ever been. Everyone left except for Jeff and myself. After about 30 minutes we started hearing lots of people outside the window. They were saying, “I saw those white boys go in that room right there. They look like they had drugs and money. Kick the door in. No just knock first. If they don’t answer than we’ll break in!” I looked around for something to defend myself with. There was nothing except a chair. I thought about breaking one of the legs off of it and using that to fight, but we were outnumbered 20 to 1. It was frightening to say the least. Jeff and I both thought we were going to die that night. At the moment where they were about to break the door down, one of us finally looked out the window and realized it was just our friends playing a prank on us. I was so happy and so pissed off all at the same time.

Eventually we went back to the trailer and settled back in. One night we went to see a concert. It was the Headbanger’s Ball Tour of 1989 with Anthrax, Helloween, and Armored Saint. I waited almost a week to trip acid for that show. I wanted it to be good. I ate orange juice concentrate all day long to enhance the trip. I was high as a kite by the time I got there. I dropped 5 hits of acid that night. I made it through the first two bands before I started peaking. During the beginning of Anthrax’s set I was laughing and frying my brain hardcore. Then it happened, the pivotal point of my life had arrived.
I fell back in my chair and I couldn’t move for a long time. I started to panic, but still I couldn’t move. After what seemed like an eternity I sat up and looked back at my seat. I looked back at my seat to see me still in it! I freaked out! I quickly put my hands on my eyes to hide from the horror of it all, but when I did my left eye jumped out of my head and began to twitch around in my hand. I shoved my eye back in my skull and ran my fingers through my hair towards the back of my head. When I did my ears twisted inside my head and disappeared. They made this awful sucking noise that scared the crap out of me. I felt a big flap in the back of my head that I reached my hand into. I was more than a little scared at this point!

I looked around and I wasn’t at a concert anymore. I didn’t know where I was, but it felt like hell to me. But that couldn’t be. I didn’t even believe in hell! I was only sixteen years old. I couldn’t die yet! I couldn’t die yet! I was only sixteen! I looked for my friends, but they were all gone. In their place were demons, haunting me. They were flying around and taunting me. The things I saw were indescribable! My body started falling apart. Limbs were falling off and the pain was torturous. I realized that hell wasn’t just a myth or a fable, it was a real place...and I was there! In an instant, I remembered all the things that I had done wrong. And then they started happening back to me, but worse. All the cruel, heartless things that I had done to people were coming back full circle to where they started. The lyrics of the bands I worshipped came back to me. The demonic, hateful, murderous lyrics ran through my mind and then they happened to me.

At that point I realized I had died and gone to hell! I was only sixteen years old and my life was over, forever! I would never sleep again. I would never smile again. I would never see a friend again. I would never again have a pleasant experience. Not now, not ever. In a million years I would still be in this rotten place…that I deserved to be in, a place that I had earned and asked for in everything that I did and didn’t do. Who can save you from hell? Who can you go to for help? You can’t just take a cold shower, or drink some coffee, or get some sleep and come down. What doctor can make it right? What person can make it right? What can I do to get out of here? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here forever, or at all for that matter!

I tried to think clearly for a moment. I could have just had a bad trip. That happens. So, if that is it then I have to go through this for a lot of hours still. I didn’t think I could survive that long. I figured that I would probably kill myself. The second option was that I had done too much acid and I was on a permanent trip. In this case I would never come down. There could be daisies and blue skies all around me, but I wouldn’t see that because in my mind I was in hell. In that case I might as well be in hell because I wouldn’t know the difference anyway. Then the words came back to me “ Acid is dangerous! It is made with strychnine, which is rat poison. You take more than two hits and it could kill you.” And that was my third choice... I really was dead and I really was in hell!

There had to be a way out! I vowed to myself that if I had to spend the next thousand years digging my way out of here that I would. I wanted out and I never wanted to come back. I wouldn’t wish hell upon my worst enemy! So, then it hit me there is only one way out. If there really is a God, He is the only one that could save me from this. There is no one else. There is no other way. I can’t get out on my own. For the first time in my life I acknowledged that I couldn’t do it on my own. For the first time I humbled myself.

And for the first time I cried out to God, I mean really cried out to God. All I could say was “ God, I don’t know if you are real. I know I am evil. There is nothing good in me. I know I don’t deserve anything from you ...at all. But, you are the only one that can help me. You are my only hope. Please! If you save me from this place I promise I will do anything you ask of me. I will do anything. Please! God! Please save me from this place! Please! Please, save me, Please! I’ll do anything! Please! I don’t want to be here! I know I deserve all this, but please save me and I will do anything for you! Anything! Please, save me!”

This went on for a few minutes and then I opened my eyes and it was all gone! I had either come back to life or sobered up or whatever, but whatever it was I was back! God heard my cry and he saved me! He brought me back to life! He gave me a second chance! I saw my friends and told them we had to leave. They must have been high because they agreed to leave right in the middle of the show.
I told them all about what happened. They were completely unmoved. They said I had a bad trip and that I should trip again as soon as possible so I could get over the bad experience. I was floored at how they just blew the whole thing off as if it was nothing. That night something happened in me. That night was the first time I believed in God. In some cultures I had heard that if you save a man’s life than he is your slave for the rest of his life. That is how I felt. Not like I had to, but that I wanted to show my gratitude by a lifetime of service. That was only the beginning, though. I still had a very long road to travel.

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