A Story of Teenage Drug Addiction
by David R. Wilkerson
George had been missing for three days. His mother sat by the phone hoping to
hear from the search party. Across the room the minister was breathing a
prayer. George had been a member of his church, having started attending at
the age of eleven. He was a quiet sort of boy who minded his own business –
was moody at times.
At the age of fifteen he started running around with the wrong crowd. It was
at a dance that one of his friends put a “joint” of marijuana in his hand and
told him to drag on it. At first he was scared and refused. But when he saw
everyone else doing it – he tried it. The smoke swirled through his head. In
five minutes he was dancing like a demon -he forgot his problems – he even
forgot about God.
The next day he wanted to try it again. Big thrill “great kick – really packed
a wallop. This time it chased away the blues. That night he was deathly sick –
head throbbing, vomiting – he had to have another joint of “grass.” This was
the first step toward a life of addiction.
He was now smoking one after another. Often six and seven at a time. But even
seven joints didn’t “bug” him any more. The pusher said he felt sorry. He
pulled out a small cellophane bag containing a fraction of an ounce of pure,
white heroin. “Just sniff it up your nose,” he was told. “You’ll stay high for
two days. It’s better – cheaper not habit forming. Marijuana is kid stuff. Try
some “horse.” He took his first free sniff out of curiosity. It was everything
the pusher said it would be. He felt like a king – his conscience didn’t
bother him. He was fearless – he had a feeling of superiority.
The next day George was looking for another “deck” of heroin. It cost him a
lot this time. Three weeks of sniffing was all he could take. The thrill was
wearing off. His friends were all “skin popping.” They claimed it was a
quicker fix and that it conserved the powder. His buddies had “the works.”
When he first saw them “drilling” with the needle he was upset. It was his
turn – but he chickened out. A friend drilled him. It knocked him out. When he
awoke – he sat “goofing” for two hours.
It was soon costing a lot each day to keep him high. He could no longer borrow
as he owed everyone in the neighborhood. He began to work “angles.” He sold
all his clothes at the pawn shop. Just twenty-two years of age – he refused to
believe he would ever be a drug addict. He even hated the sound of it.
Just six months ago, George was forced to go “mainline” into the veins. Skin
popping was no longer effective. After his first mainline injection, he knew
he was hooked for life. He began to mug, break into apartments, steal, hold up
taxi cabs – all for money to get drugs. He lost 30 pounds and was nothing but
skin and bones. Two days before his disappearance – he mysteriously came upon
a large sum of money. The last anyone heard of him – he was headed for Harlem
to “cop” a full “load” of heroin.
Both mother and minister sat solemnly waiting. George had been gone for three
days without leaving a single clue to his whereabouts. At this very moment the
police were investigating complaints of a terrible odor coming from the roof
top of a tenement house on Prospect Avenue, Bronx, New York. Three officers
nearly fainted at the sight. George was lying on the roof top just left of the
stairwell, dead. He had been dead for three days, he was naked and his body
had turned as black as a burnt cork. Most horrifying of all, were the gruesome
features of his face. The once handsome face took on the perfect image of an
ape. An autopsy revealed George had died of an overdose.
It was late that same night when his mother was called to the morgue to
identify him. The funeral will long be remembered. His body was wrapped in
asbestos with only his face showing. The sealed casket had a glass covered
oval cut in the top to enable narcotics agents to view the remains. Young drug
addicts were fled past the casket and told, “This is how it ends.” Ladies
fainted – strong men were shaken – but the drug addicts were unmoved. Their
minds were long since hardened to the truth.
This is a true story. I know the minister who buried him. Teenager – hear this
– NOW! At the end of every sensual pleasure is a casket. The drug pushers are
invading the land. They want their drugs in every high school – in every city,
town and village. For some this message is already too late – you are hooked.
You can be helped only if you are desperate. THIS IS THE WAY TO BE SAVED –
“Confess your sins to the Lord Jesus with your mouth – repent and be sorry for
all your sins – forsake your wicked way of living – call on Him and ask Him to
come and live in your heart – feed yourself daily with God’s Word and talk to
“Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the
pleasures of sin for a season” Hebrews 11:25. Sin has pleasure there is no
doubt about that, but those who overcome the temptations of this world will
rejoice in everlasting life. “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of
God is eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord” Romans 6:21
“For the Son of man (Jesus) is come to save that which is lost” Matt. 18:11.
Do you feel lost today. Confused about your future, sick of your sin, then
turn to the Saviour who will answer you as you pray and ask His help.
Editor’s Note: This tract was written in the early 1960’s, but the events are
as true today as they were back then. Drugs are still shattering homes and
lives. Trusting in Jesus is the only way to overcome them – John 14:6.
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