The Sad Story of My Numismatic Friend
dcarr
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The Sad Story of My Numismatic Friend (and my first significant coin).
My friend “Jim” was my best coin collecting friend from long ago, back to Middle School in the early 1970s.
The earliest memories are of the two of us looking at coins in the back of the classroom during Social Studies and the teacher telling us “boys, put the coins away”. Oh well, we were learning a lot more with the coins than we were in the class. We would often go to coin shops around the Denver area. Initially, we would require one of our parents to take us there. Later, when we were able to drive, we would make our own rounds. We were also “self-employed” during the summers in the mid-1970s. Our “job” was to drive around getting rolls of half dollars to search for silver. We had our kits and the process was practiced. I used a typical metal cash box with spare copper-nickel coins that were used to fill the spaces in rolls where I would remove a 90% or 40% silver coin. The searched rolls were exchanged at a bank for cash, and then on to the next bank we went. Back then, 40% coins were worth a profit of 15 to 20 cents each, and the profit on 90% coins was about $1 to $1.25 each. That wasn’t much, but it was enough to pay for gas and lunch, plus a little extra. I vividly remember our score at a bank in Evergreen Colorado. We bought a bundle of $100 (ten rolls) of half dollars. Out in the car when we started looking at the rolls we were excitedly hollering like someone who had just hit a jackpot on a slot machine. People walking by on the street were wondering what the hell was going on. Out of that $100, $6 of it was 40% silver. $90 of it was 90% silver. Only $4 of it was non-silver (copper-nickel clad).
Early-on, I noticed some very troubling signs with Jim. He was always the first one (and usually the only one) to fall down drunk at the parties. He would try any drug that anyone presented.
When Jim was about 22 his Dad passed away. His Mom and Dad were driving from California back to Colorado. They stopped for lunch in Salinas California. After eating, they walked out to the parking lot. Jim’s Dad suffered a spontaneous massive heart attack and dropped dead right on the spot. And that was that.
Jim was smart and he attended the Colorado School of Mines and studied Chemistry, while I attended the University of Colorado and studied Mechanical Engineering. After Jim’s Dad died, his Mom moved to a retirement community in Southern California. During winter break from college, we would drive out to California and stay a couple weeks with his Mom. We would plan out our days and routes, mapping every coin store, stamp store, and bank that we wanted to visit that day. We went everywhere from San Diego to Los Angeles. In Beverly Hills in 1978 I remember getting an unusually-long $20 paper-wrapped roll of half dollars (normally, they are shorter $10 rolls). In that $20 roll was coins dated 1978 and all the way back to 1917.
Jim became interested in full-step Jefferson nickels. We once went in together on a mint-sealed $200 face value bag of 1960 [P] nickels. I think at the time it cost us about $220. We agreed to split the value of whatever we would find. But whomever found an item would have first choice to keep it and pay the other partner half the value, or sell it to the other partner at half the value (if the other party wanted it). There was not much significant in the bag except for one coin that I found – double-clipped with a perfectly-formed “railroad rim” (partial collar) all the way around the circumference. We valued the coin at about $20 at the time. Since Jim was more of a nickel and error collector than I was, I sold it to him for $10 as per our agreement. Years later, I wished I had kept it since it was the first coin of real numismatic interest that I ever had.
Towards the end of my college stint, one Saturday morning I was driving north back into Boulder and I saw Jim walking along the side of the road in the opposite direction. He looked all banged up. So I did a U-turn and went to pick him up. While I didn’t exactly get the straight story from Jim, I did eventually gather the pieces together. Apparently, the night before, Jim had driven from his apartment in Golden to a bar in Boulder. At the bar, he drank too much and then attempted to drive. He tried to drive up the freeway off-ramp (in the wrong direction) but couldn’t even do that right and crashed his car into a ravine. Luckily, he did not injure anyone except himself. The police put him in jail for the night. On Saturday morning he couldn’t get a ride so he started walking back towards Golden, which was about 20 miles away. That is when I came upon him. I gave him a ride back to his apartment. That was the end of the 1972 Ford Mustang that he had inherited from his Dad. Some years later I think he permanently lost his license to drive and never owned another car or drove again after that.
Jim was never a “mean” drunk. He was always very cordial, happy, funny, friendly, and somehow direct-to-the-point when drunk. The only time I ever witnessed him get aggravated towards anyone was when they suggested that he not drink and smoke. His attitude towards that was basically a stern “that is none of your business”.
After college I did not have as much contact with him, but I would correspond or visit with him from time to time. Over the years Jim worked at various laboratories. Some for a few years, but usually he would become unemployed at some point. I suspect that showing up at work while intoxicated was a reason. At one point when he had a steady job he bought a house. But a couple years later he apparently lost his job and just quit paying his mortgage. He ignored all notices. Then one morning he was woken up in bed at gunpoint. It was a deputy sheriff evicting him. They had an eviction order, so they forced him out. They took all of his possessions out of the house and threw them in the snow in the front yard. This included his safe and numerous other coins and valuables that were not in the safe. The locks to the house were changed on the spot. Later that day Jim called me and asked that I come take possession of his coins and other items. I immediately made the hour drive to the location where he told me to meet him. When I got there, it was a bar. Jim had walked a mile to the bar and left all his possessions unattended in his front yard. When I arrived Jim was drinking in the bar. We drove to his house. Some of this things may have “walked off” while he was at the bar. But, miraculously, the majority of what he had was still there. I loaded up everything of value that I could find in his yard. I remember picking up PCGS slabs that were scattered about the yard in the snow. After I picked up everything, I left. With no place to go, Jim apparently broke into his former house that very night and continued to reside there for some time. But eventually he ended up living homeless “on the street” and occasionally in a cheap motel. When he needed money, he would call me up and ask if I would buy this or that from his collection (which I was holding on his behalf). We would agree on an amount and I would make a deposit in my local branch of his bank. About this time I learned that he had some items being held at the pawn shop. After learning what the exorbitant fees and interest was on the “loans” I declared that it was nuts. In a year or less the amount owed on the items would be well above what they were worth. So I made to Jim the proposal to immediately go to the pawn shop where I would pay to get all his things out of there, and I would take some items equal in value to the payment I would make. That way, Jim would at least get most of his items back and not owe anything more. Jim agreed.
Then he seemed to get things together somewhat and got a good-paying job as a chemist at a government facility in New Mexico. I believe that this job required a security clearance. He called me up and told me about the nice hot-tub he was sitting in at the fancy hotel where his employer had temporarily housed him. But a week or so later he called again and stated that he needed money for a bus ride back to the Denver area. I never found out what had happened but I suspect that either he showed up for work intoxicated, or his government employer did a background check and found some DUIs in his record that he did not disclose on his original employment application. So I bought some more of his coins and deposited money in a local branch of his bank so that he could get a bus ticket. He later told me that he had to live out in the desert for several days with only a backpack containing meager supplies and part of his coin collection.
Once again back in Denver, he lived on the street and occasionally in shady motels. Eventually he was in a homeless shelter and that shelter hooked him up with a Vietnam veteran with similar problems. The shelter helped the two of them get into a two-bedroom apartment. They also helped Jim file the proper paperwork to start getting the nearly $2,000 per month in Social Security disability. With that, and having a roommate to share expenses, Jim could get by reasonably well and not have to live on the street. The county social services helped arrange a part-time job for him as a security guard at the headquarters of a major satellite communications company. He had to ride the bus and take light rail to his job, almost an hour each way, to earn basically minimum wage. One time, at the train station, a person asked Jim for a cigarette. Jim made a terse reply and declined to give up one of his. He was then stabbed in the back by the man. Jim had to get about 20 stitches. Some months later I learned of this and saw the scar.
For a while he was getting by fairly well again, and with a little extra money he was even buying a few coins here and there on the internet. He asked that I return all his coins that I was holding for him, and so I did. He gave me spare keys to his apartment and the combination to his safe. He told me to take possession of his items if anything ever happened to him. His only living relatives are two sisters (both much older than Jim) and he hated both and wanted no contact with either. He never married or had kids. Jim’s mom had died many years prior. His parents and sisters all seemed to be very old in relation to Jim. My wife’s theory is that Jim was actually the “illegitimate” son of one of his sisters, and the family covered it up. Both his sisters were at least 16 years older than him. But I have no confirming information on that matter.
A few years ago Jim’s internal organs had started failing, especially the liver and kidneys. His belly would swell up with fluid and periodically he had to go in for a procedure where they inserted a long needle into his abdomen to drain out multiple gallons of fluid at a time. He was prescribed various medications and diuretics to flush out fluid. Then he was diagnosed with throat cancer. Smoking and drinking undoubtedly caused it. The doctors determined that surgery was not an option. So they gave him some massive focused radiation doses. This was ironic since Jim worked frequently with radioactive compounds during his prior employment. I remember seeing him with significant radiation burns on the skin of his neck. However, his cancer did go into remission and never returned.
Then Jim had a falling-out with his roommate Hank. Hank was terrible with money, far worse than even Jim. Whatever money Hank had, he would just blow it all in a day or two. Hank inherited $16,000 and bought a used car. The car broke down a day or two later and Hank went back to the dealer and threw the car keys at the manager and left. Hank never even tried to get any money back and he abandoned the car where it lay. The $16,000 was completely gone in a week and Hank was back to bumming money and whatever he could get. Then Hank apparently had a psychotic episode and for whatever reason broke down Jim’s locked bedroom door and they had an altercation. Hank was taken away from the apartment and never returned. Jim then had to pay all the expenses for the apartment himself and he had to start selling coins again. The county stepped in once more and got him regular deliveries of free food, a free phone, and free internet access. But I still bought most of his better items over the past couple years and he used the money for rent, alcohol, and whatever else.
In recent years I never saw Jim drink. Not once. But he was always drunk. His speech was always slurred and his short-term memory was shot. He could remember things from years ago. But if you told him anything new, or tried to teach him anything new, it would never sink in, no matter how hard one tried.
In January of this year I learned that Jim had not been going to his doctor appointments because he could not get to the offices. My wife and I volunteered to take him to his next one. So we drove the hour to his apartment to pick him up. He told us that he had previously fallen in his apartment and it took him an hour to crawl to his bed. I am a year older than Jim and I can still run up and down the stairs. Jim could barely step on or off a 2-inch curb, even with a walker and assistance. The skin on his face was gray and lumpy. He looked like walking death. I knew he was in bad shape, and that is why I wanted to go with him so I could be his advocate and talk to the doctor. Upon arrival at the appointment, we helped Jim to the doctor’s office. While riding up the elevator, I discovered a bottle of liquor in the pouch of his walker. His speech was slurred, as typical. In fact, I don’t remember ever seeing him not drunk in the last 20 years or more. At the appointment, they first wanted a blood sample. The nurse stabbed him three or four times in each arm and couldn’t get a flow and then she switched to his hand and finally got a sample. Then we waited and later the doctor finally came in. She said flat-out to Jim that he had to stop drinking. Jim lied entirely and stated in slurred speech that he only had one or two beers a week on Thursday night dinner with friends. The part about two beers on Thursday night was perhaps somewhat accurate. But he did not mention the other six days a week spent drinking all the time. The doctor looked at Jim directly and said emphatically that she knew he was lying. This was a Monday morning, and she was holding Jim’s blood work report which showed his blood alcohol level at the time. It was well above “DUI” levels. She was clearly frustrated with him. At one point I asked the doctor if we could step aside and talk. I told the doctor that Jim had fallen and it took him an hour to crawl to his bed (which was just a mattress on the floor). I said that he needs to go into hospice right now. She told me that his vital signs did not qualify for hospice and she would not recommend hospice care for him at that time. Thinking back on it, I believe that maybe what she meant was, hospice isn’t for people who are chronically drunk and/or engaging in substance abuse.
A couple weeks after the doctor’s appointment, I got the call from one of our few mutual friends. He had apparently succumbed on the floor of his apartment several days earlier. The police were called by someone, probably a neighbor because of the smell. The police went into the apartment and discovered the body. They looked around and found contact information for our mutual friend and called them. The mutual friend emailed me and we decided on a time for the three of us to go over to Jim’s apartment.
Jim’s apartment complex is, pretty much, a dump. There was evidence that a homeless person had been camped just outside Jim’s front door in the recesses under the outdoor stairwell. Our mutual friend told me that Jim would sometimes pay that homeless person $100 to go buy a couple bottles of liquor for Jim.
Inside Jim’s apartment it was the most deplorable living conditions that I have ever seen in person. Bio-hazards everywhere. We had to be very careful where to step and what to touch (and what not to touch). The police and coroner had already removed the body a few days earlier, and two antique (but basically worthless) guns that Jim had on the wall were apparently taken by the police. Jim had sold most of his coins over the last year or so to pay for living expenses. What little Jim had left in the form of valuables, the three of us took possession of. There was one small box of coins that contained everything that I had given Jim over the years. I took possession of that. Most of it was from a few trips that Jim had made to my mint where we struck some things together for fun. I never charged Jim anything for any of that. The best item in the group was one of my “1964-D” Peace over-strikes.
But there was one other coin in that box and I think Jim put it there so that I would get it. The 1960 [P] mint error nickel from the mint bag we shared many years ago. I will always keep this coin as a remembrance.
Not once did Jim ever ask of charity from me. He never asked to borrow money, or asked for housing, transportation, or food. We occasionally offered. He only asked me to safeguard some of his possessions a couple of times. When he needed money, we would have a numismatic transaction at fair market values.
Looking back, I wonder if anything could have been done. But unless a person acknowledges that something needs to change, nothing will succeed. Even the slightest inkling of a desire, or acknowledgement, is worth an “intervention” attempt. But I never saw in Jim even a miniscule of regret or a desire in any way to change, even when he repeatedly hit the rock bottom of the pit.
But even though we led vastly different lifestyles, I can still say rest in peace my friend. At least, now you are free of it and “sober”.
Comments
Thanks for sharing and for being such a good friend to Jim.
That is one h*** of a story. You seemed to be a true friend. Some people just can't be helped. But you tried your best. And that is commendable. Take comfort in that.
It seems many problem or troubled individuals pass through life unnoticed. Thank you for documenting a part of your friends life others may have never known or understood.
Disclaimer: I'm not a dealer, trader, grader, investor or professional numismatist. I'm just a hobbyist. (To protect me but mostly you! 🤣 )
Thanks for writing that. It’s a great piece and a nice tribute to Jim.
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Thanks for sharing
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Alcoholism leads to many similar terrible life paths of continual and tragic circumstances and hopelessness. I had a friend, Peter Lang, who was on these boards a few years ago. He got some help, I took him to some AA meetings, but he didn't take his alcoholic condition seriously enough. He cycled in and out of the hospital with DTs, nursing home, finally a nice lady gave him a place to stay. She caught him calling the cab to get his liquor and put her foot down so he wouldn't do that again. Many health conditions complicated his life, cancer took him out.
He liked all the beautiful US coins, and enjoyed the hobby for many years like your friend. Of course we cannot make people get the help they need, but AA and similar support groups can help a lot.
I understand the entire struggle Jim went through.
Both of my parents were alcoholics and died from the disease. I was an orphan at 19. Thank God I had supporting and caring family.
Alanon helped me and my brother through the ordeal.
It's a great program.
Pete
My uncle was an alcoholic, but eventually joined AA and never drank again.
He told me that the key is you have to "hit rock bottom", to really feel the right motivation to get your life back on track.
Some differences which helped him were that he was married, with kids and had a job.
So he had those points of reference to normal people, where he could see how badly he needed to change.
Helping people in AA became an important part of his life.
I also had a coin friend who was an alcoholic, and also recovered with the help of AA.
He was also married and had a job, which helped.
He has since fallen off the wagon a few times, but seemed to be mostly sober when I last saw him.
It is a very tough battle.
As a young ER doctor I indignantly called a family and asked them why they refused to come pick up their son who was found on the side of the road drunk. They educated me about how enabling this situation would only prolong it as their son had not yet reached bottom and had not acknowledged his alcoholism.
No one can save the addicted person who is in denial, and DCarr you should not have any remorse over a situation you could not have altered. Your friendship over the years was the best help he could receive.
Commems and Early Type
Thanks for sharing this story Dan. I usually don't read the long threads, always in a rush, but read this story, very captivating. Loved hearing your story, so sad about Jim's tale, damn alcohol, it had adverse affects in my family too. I lived in Evergreen back in the mid 60's and then again in the mid 70's....beautiful town!!! I wish I had had a friend like you growing up, I remember searching through a bag of nickels when I was in High School, didn't really know what I was looking for, found lots of Wartime Nickels but didn't know their value. ~Bill
I'm sorry about your friend, he was lucky to have you in his life. I lost a good friend in a similar situation though much too soon. He passed at 48 from kidney failure. He is the reason I am a coin collector today and I miss him terribly some times.
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Thanks for sharing Dan. Glad you got to share in and helped provide some of the goodness in his life.
Frustrating just doesn't cover it when someone you love does not want to help themselves as much as we would like to help them...I lost someone earlier this year to addiction who was much more than just a special person in my life. He was going to inherit my coins and most of what I own. Don't know that I'll ever be able to fully process it..I really feel you Dan and appreciate you telling the story.
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"If it's a penny for your thoughts and you put in your two cents worth, then someone...somewhere...is making a penny." - Steven Wright
So unbelievably tragic. You were, indeed, a good friend who did everything he could. Still, so heart-breaking......
What a great story about collecting. Sorry to hear about your friend. Thanks for sharing.
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Bless you!
Reminds me of my brother.
Was a brutal 30 years working everyday with him, until they gave him 30 days to live.
I was putting together life insurance and other details.
Never thought he had it in him to admit, much less take a new direction.
With the devotion of his angel wife, the last three years sober have been a different challenge of forgiveness and recovery.
Walking, living miracle in many ways.
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My first reaction: How could a family not pick up their son from the hospital, after he was found drunk on the side of the road? But you're right. I have seen "entire" hardworking normal American families "completely" destroyed by one family members addiction to drugs or alcohol.
Disclaimer: I'm not a dealer, trader, grader, investor or professional numismatist. I'm just a hobbyist. (To protect me but mostly you! 🤣 )
Addiction is a terrible thing. One of my three best friends growing up went down the drug route and killed himself before he was 25.
My adult best friend crawled into a bottle after his first wife killed herself over religion, but after a few years he met a good woman and married her and a few months later said "I don't need this any more" and hasn't touched a drop in 45 years. He saved himself because he wanted to. Nobody else could have.
So many take for granted their lives that are without family or friends with drug/alcohol problems. It is unfathomable the grief and misery these two items cause. Death is the least of the problems. Misery can last a lifetime. Thank you for sharing your heartfelt story, Dan. Hope all that face such issues can cope and survive these catastrophes.
Jim
When a man who is honestly mistaken hears the truth, he will either quit being mistaken or cease to be honest....Abraham Lincoln
Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.....Mark Twain
That was an incredibly powerful story. So sorry for your loss and I think you did absolutely everything right - he was lucky to have you in his life.
All I could think of when I read this was…
“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’
“Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’“
A heartfelt story that I can see you took your time in writing. You were a good friend, and the best chance of survival that he had. Hopefully, he is in a better place.
May the shared experiences of your youth stay with you always, and the nickel you both prized forever remind you of your friend, Jim.
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Thank you for sharing.
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Sorry for your loss. It is sad that he was not able to get the help he needed (i.e. rehab, AA), but as you mentioned there has to be some desire to get better.
Addiction is something that truly can’t be understood unless you’re the addict or someone like you, directly involved in trying to help one who is addicted.
I’m a recovered opiate addict who would be dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for my family and being given that last hard sobering reality of: NO more chances! I was able to completely turn my life around. I went back to school during Covid and earned my BAppS. I worked HARD 90+ hours a week, EVERY WEEK, for three years and built a bank back up. I moved my family to a much better place far away from where I was weak. I re-established my reputation and most importantly the trust of my family.
Now I’m a very successful public school teacher who just found out last week that I’ll be the department chair next school year. The point is - only the addict can make the choice, and it’s really, really hard. You did more for your friend than probably anybody on planet Earth. You’re a good person and it’s people like you that have helped people like me continue living far longer than we should have. It just doesn’t always work out.
Rest easy knowing you did your best. I know, that you know, that you did.
Having fun while switching things up and focusing on a next level PCGS slabbed 1950+ type set, while still looking for great examples for the 7070.
You're a good man, Dan......sorry for your loss...
Thanks for sharing that heartfelt story, Dan. You were a true friend to him and I'm sure he was eternally grateful to have someone like you in his life. I went through my experimental years and had some struggles myself, luckily I found my way out of it some years ago and haven't looked back. Many whom I called friends are no longer with us, and I've seen how devastating it can be for their families. Addiction is an indiscriminate beast, and it can affect people from all walks of life. As others have said, don't take it for granted if someone close to you has never gone down that road. It's become all too familiar for me and it seems like the issue, as a whole, gets worse with each passing year.
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An incredible story, I’m very sorry to hear all of this. You were a great friend to him!
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What an incredible story. I read every word. Thanks for sharing it and being a great friend to Jim. I am truly sorry for your loss.
Donato
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RIP dear Jim.
bob
You're a good man and a true friend... thanks for sharing...
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You are a good person( and your wife also) and were a great friend to your boy. To keep your childhood friend well into your lifetime is a blessing. My longtime best friend since we were young passed away a few years ago he was like a brother to me, and regardless of his situation the loss still sticks with me. Your boy was blessed for having you in his life, my condolences for the loss of your friend.
Dan, thanks for sharing your story. I think everyone has a "Jim" (and anyone can become Jim). Addiction is a monster that tricks the mind and takes the body. Once addiction takes hold, it can be very difficult to walk away. Sadly, like Jim... most never do.
Addiction is my biggest fear for my children. It runs in my family, and my father and brother both have addiction problems. The thought of them following a path of addiction breaks my heart. As a parent, this scares me to no end.
I commend you on staying true to your friend. This is not easy, as addiction leaves a trail of lies and misdeeds that can break trust in the relationship. I am sure these are feelings you had to work through. I am glad you were able to navigate your feelings in a way that allowed you to continue to offer love to your friend.
I am sorry for your loss. May you find comfort in knowing you were a good friend to Jim. I am also hopeful that this post will deter people from taking this destructive pathway through life.
Note: if you or a friend are going through challenges with addiction the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders. The toll-free number for help is 1-800-662-HELP (4357).
I am a newer collector (started April 2020), and I primarily focus on U.S. Half Cents and Type Coins. Early copper is my favorite.
That’s a tough situation. Thanks for telling the story, and condolences for the loss of your friend.
Normally, I don’t read long posts like this. This one though? I’m glad I did! I’m so sorry for your loss; such an incredible, heartfelt story that touched me in a way I didn’t expect. Addiction of any sort is terrible. The toll it takes on the individual is nearly matched upon those closest to him/her. Close to home, I had a friend with a terrible gambling addiction. It cost him his marriage, estrangement from his kids & friends along the way. He survived somehow; I wish your friend did!
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Dan,
Thank you for telling your story, and sorry to hear of your loss and that unfortunately Jim succumbed to his addictions.
I spent around 30 years trying to help my younger schizophrenic brother as he went through so many things, including even more difficulties than could be imagined by most. After many failed attempts to try to help him overcome his situation, I also even bought a cheap house to give him a place to stay, as otherwise he would have been out on the street.
Unfortunately, he invited all the homeless folks in town that he could find to stay there, because he "felt sorry" for them, too. The new washer I bought there quit working because the hoses were filled with broken syringes and the motor burned out. I eventually had to get the police to evict them all and get him into a monitored shelter.
He left and moved out of state, to get "more benefits" and a couple years ago I got a call he had passed away when his pacemaker quit, that he could not, or did not, get new batteries for it.
He had nothing left of his few possessions. The others in the social services supplied apartment, which was paid by his honorably discharged Army disability SS benefit, stole them all when they found him dead on the floor. Even the handful of coins in his small broken ceramic piggy bank were stolen.
Alcohol is a really terrible thing when it is out of control, but mental illness is also a very difficult thing to deal with or treat. Some alcoholics can stop drinking, with help, but you can't stop insanity.
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Years ago I took a part-time job as a store detective, picking up shoplifters at a large retail store in New York. There are all kinds of kleptomaniacs! Young kids to old ladies. When we caught and detained a young juvenile for stealing, the young kid could not be released on his or her own. They had to be released to an adult, family member or guardian.
Just like @CommemDude said, many time parents would not come and pick up their kids! We would explain to them, if you don't come and pick them up your child they will released to the police. Some parents would say; go ahead!
Disclaimer: I'm not a dealer, trader, grader, investor or professional numismatist. I'm just a hobbyist. (To protect me but mostly you! 🤣 )
My brother Dusty died in 1991. He was 40 years old and was suffering from pneumonia and acute pancreatitis when he bled to death because a piece of shrapnel from Nam shifted in his body and he bled to death.
I share a disease with Dusty called Hereditary Pancreatitis. It is strongly affected by alcohol.
I was with him in 1989 for a VA doctor appointment when the doctor told him if he kept drinking he would be dead in 2 years. He laughed and told the doctor "Then we better wrap things up, I have a lot of drinking to do and it sounds like little time to do it in."
Dusty did 2 and a half tours as a Ranger in Vietnam. His real name was Eugene John B. and that name was read out loud in the U.S. Congress for uncommon valor. He led 17 volunteer missions to save fly boys who got shot down. It is in the Congressional Record from June 1967.
If that doctor had given him a 100 percent promise that living the way I do, (no alcohol, tobacco etc.) would buy him another 20 years he would have laughed in his face.
It is a hard lesson to learn but we were not put here to judge others, tell them how to live or do anything else then accept others for who and what they are. Good and bad all rolled into one. James
Dan, thanks for sharing. What a great friend you were. May your friend RIP.
Life member of ANA
Thanks for sharing the story of you and your late friend.
You were a true friend Daniel, thank you for sharing the story and RIP to your friend.
Most important coin I own:
For anyone reading this who knows that it’s starting to drink YOU instead of you drinking it, don’t be afraid to get help. I saw tech executives and doctors laid just as low as the homeless guy on the street. It takes courage, but life is so much better on the other side.
Our friends are always our friends despite their shortcomings. Sorry for your loss Daniel, genuinely sorry for your loss.
My condolences to you. Glad that Jim had a friend like you in his life.
"Bongo hurtles along the rain soaked highway of life on underinflated bald retread tires."
~Wayne
Sorry for your loss Dan. You were a true friend to the end. Jim was fortunate to have such a friend. May he RIP
USAF (Ret.) 1985 - 2005. E-4B Aircraft Maintenance Crew Chief and Contracting Officer.
My current Registry sets:
✓ Everyman Mint State Carson City Morgan Dollars (1878 – 1893)
✓ Everyman Mint State Lincoln Cents (1909 – 1958)
✓ Morgan Dollar GSA Hoard (1878 – 1891)
Thanks for sharing. May he RIP.
Thank you for sharing and know you did everything you should have done as a great friend. People do not change unless the desire comes from within. I truly believe no outside force can really change someone.
Remember the great times you shared and may he RIP.
Thanks for sharing and I’m sorry for your loss.
You’re a GOOD man!!!
I'm not sorry that I took the time to read your story Dan, or the many replies in the thread. I am sorry, however for your loss and also the loss of so many others who've replied so eloquently on this subject. I won't go into details but I can also relate.
This is a great community we have here, and it's threads like this that prove it.
Wayne
Kennedys are my quest...
@dcarr I can still say rest in peace my friend. At least, now you are free of it and “sober”.
I am so sorry about your friend. At least you have some cool coin memories! My brother pretty much went the same route. 40 years of drinking, cancer, organ failure and he was gone. That final statement you made ^^^^^ was exactly what I thought. Stay strong my friend.