| Memorial |
Memorial
"Gail A. McBurney (Obituary 11-19-07)"
"Prayer of Remembrance"
"He Was Trapped by Addiction (1-21-07)"
"He was you and me" -- Portrait of a Heroin Victim
"Jesse" - by Denise
Casey Nolan Fitzgerald 8/4/84-1/13/05
"Kyle" - The Use of Dust Off - by his Dad
"Just Your Normal High-School Boy"
"Susan" - Death from Chronic Alcoholism
"Steven James Renauer" - by his Mom
"I Will Always Remember" - by Sherri Renauer
"Remember Me" - for Kelley, by Kate Patton (Kelley's Mom)
"Jessica Joy Estok" - by Dee Thomas (Jessica's Grandmother)
"Christmas Poem for Will"
"The Rainbow Bridge" - by Denise Tecuanhuey, remembering Jesse & Silkk
" "
In the rising of the sun and in its going down,
Obituary (March 27, 1950 - November 19, 2007)
Gail A. McBurney, age 57 a resident of Wheaton, died at home on Monday, November 19. She was born on March 27, 1950 in Chicago to John and Lorraine Kearns. Gail loved to take care of her family. She was a wonderful friend and loved by many. She enjoyed gardening, reading, and guiding children. Her walks every morning before work gave her great joy and peace. Gail worked for the College of Du Page for 17 years as well as My Chef Catering for the past 7 years. The friendships she has developed over these years are irreplaceable. She is survived by her husband Steven McBurney, children, Cheryl (Michael) Moore, Stephanie, Samuel, and Benjamin McBurney, two grandchildren, Jackson and Rachel Moore, and her parents. She is also survived by three brothers, Timothy (Kathy) Kearns, Paul Kearns, and Peter (Andrea) Kearns, and three sisters, Mary (Jack) Paquette, Constance (William) Goetz and Margaret Kearns. Gail's daughter, Cheryl Moore, recently wrote this on her Mother, A visitation will be held on Wednesday, November 21, from 3 until 8 p.m. at Hultgren Funeral Home, 304 N. Main St. in Wheaton. A mass will be held on Friday, November 23, at 10 a.m. at St. Michael Church, West and Illinois St. in Wheaton. Prayers will be held at the funeral home at 9:30. Interment will follow at Assumption Cemetery in Winfield. Memorials may be directed to the Hearts of Hope, PO Box 3314, St. Charles, IL 60174. Family and friends may sign a guest book at Hultgren.com.
Feb 20, 2005
I will always remember answering the phone on November 18, 1998. It was later in the afternoon and I was alone in the house. From the other end of the line I heard “this is the Melrose Park Police Department, and your son Jesse has been found dead in a motel room.” I screamed “noooooo!!!” I was devastated. My beautiful son was gone. I had feared a phone call like this for a very long time. Jesse had been addicted to Heroin and Cocaine for more than two years. There were stays in treatment centers, arrests, jail, attempts on his own to stay clean and a whole lot of “ugly” in between. I could go on and on. He could not find his way out. That phone call was my biggest fear coming true. I called my husband at work and I just couldn’t hold back. I told him over the phone that our son was dead. Oh how I hate those words. I went out side crying uncontrollably to wait for my husband. When he got home he left to find our fifteen-year-old son Tony, who was with friends. He was home within minutes on his bike. So on the street in front of our house I had to tell him that his brother had died. Our family would never be the same. Part of us died that day too. Our hearts were broken. The cause of Jesse’s death was what we had expected, Heroin and Cocaine overdose. Jesse’s funeral was November 23, 1998. The day before his nineteenth birthday. The next year is pretty much a blur to me. I can’t remember much of anything but tears and pain. It has been over six years since Jesse’s death. I miss him terribly and he consumes my thoughts much of the time. So many memories from his lifetime. Many beautiful, happy ones and many still very painful. Remembering his pain and struggle are very hard on me. I find comfort in knowing that Jesse is now in a better place and that he was taken because he just couldn’t win his battle with drugs. He is at peace, no more suffering, no more pain. For that I am thankful. Many important things have happened since Jesse’s passing. The Kane County Drug Court was formed by Judge Doyle. Lives are being saved because of the program, Judge Doyle and his dedicated staff. I started volunteering at Lazarus House a homeless shelter. I am now a part-time staff member. Darlene Marcusson the director of Lazarus House started a support group called “Families Against Heroin.” It was very much needed in our community. I am grateful to her for that. It was at this support group where I met Lea Minalga and many other suffering mothers with just about identical stories. I formed many friendships there and they continue today with some wonderful people. With Lea Minalga as president we have formed a not for profit group called Hearts of Hope. Last year, along with Lea Minalga and Pam Heil we were invited to New York City by the Partnership For Drug Free America.” We spent a day in their office with other parents who had also lost their children. It was quite an honor and a very emotional day. We can never give up hope. We are there to help in as many ways as we can. Together we remain strong and are supportive of each other. We are willing to help anyone who is affected by drug abuse. My Jesse would want it that way. I Love you Jes
Casey Nolan Fitzgerald 8/4/84-1/13/05
"Yesterday when my husband and I were out for our morning walk, we stopped to read a poster that was tacked up on a telephone pole. Lost Cat! Brown Tabby Morris 20 years old and hard of hearing My husband commented that it was "that time of year," and Morris was probably just taking a stroll around the neighborhood. But the poster made me think about what happened to my dog, Moochie. When I was five years old, Santa left Moochie under the Christmas tree. Moochie was part terrier and part something else that must have had a very long tail, because when he was just a pup, the veterinarian said we needed to shorten his tail or "the tail will grow longer than the dog." And so we had his tail nipped. I was an only child, no brothers or sisters to play with except Moochie. Even when I'd dress him up in a pink dress and tie a ruffled bonnet around his neck, he was a real trooper. He'd sit in the side basket of my bicycle, barking nonstop, "Look at us" and we'd ride up and down Main Street. I loved that dog, but honestly I don't know how my parents put up with the pooch. Moochie loved to chew blankets. He never touched a shoe, sock, or a chair leg, but every single blanket in our house looked like a piece of Swiss cheese. Perfect little round holes--they were a real work of dog art, and every blanket, on every bed, was a Moochie masterpiece. I never tied him up when he was outside, there wasn't any need to, because Moochie never left the yard. So it was strange one day when he just seemed to disappear. Everybody knew everybody, and their pets, in the small town I grew up in. But when I asked the neighbors, nobody had seen Moochie. Months went by, I was miserable and I'd given up hope on ever finding him. The worst part was not knowing what had happened to him. You know how things just seem to come together sometimes? There's no reason why a topic of conversation should come up, but it does when the time is right. And that's what happened one day when I was waiting for my mother to get off work at the Dime Store. It was almost five o'clock, closing time at the Dime Store, and my mother was behind the register ringing up the last customer when out of the blue, the woman she was waiting on started telling a story about a dog who had wandered on to their farm a couple of months ago. She said it was a small brown dog, with a stump of a tail, and he just showed up one afternoon in their barn. He didn't look well, and was obviously a very old dog, so she made a bed for him and tried to get him to eat, but he wasn't hungry. She was so worried about the dog that she got up in the middle of the night to check on him. The woman was in tears by then, telling us the story, and my mother and I were crying too, because we knew who the dog was. Moochie died in her arms about three in the morning. Why did Moochie run away? I've always thought about it this way: best friends never want to hurt each other and I imagine Moochie decided it would be just too much for me--he wanted to spare me the pain, so he ran away from home to die. Lost Dog! Brown, part Terrier with a short tail Moochie 15 years old and the best friend I ever had" For the past 21 months, since Casey died, I have gone over every detail, become somewhat active with a local support group and had counseling, etc etc just to attempt to move on and find a sense of normal to make sense in my own head of why my son, Casey who was finally sober, doing what appeared to be well and then relapsed. He tried one more time to calm the sickness and addiction inside. To feel calm for just a bit of time. Obviously it didnt work. I am as lost as I was 21 months ago when I got that dreaded call from the police dept telling me that my son had been found in a Chicago west side project building.. rushed to the hospital. but he was dead. For the first time.. words ring clearer than any explanations logically or emotionally has been said to me. In my own head now I know.. Children never want to hurt their parents and I imagine Casey decided it had been just too much for me the past years - he wanted to spare me the pain, so he tried one more time,to find the calm he so yearned for inside of himself, away from home and died. Lost Son! Blue eyes, bright with smile and heart of gold 20 years old and the only one I have ever truly loved. Joan R Baker Geneva, IL Mother of Casey Nolan Fitzgerald Aug 4,1984 -Jan.13,2005
"Kyle" - The Use of Dust Off - by his Dad If you have school aged children or know others who do, please read & pass this on. Thank you. First I'm going to tell you a little about me and my family. My name is Jeff. I am a Police Officer for a city which is known nationwide for its crime rate. We have a lot of gangs and drugs. At one point we were # 2 in the nation in homicides per capita. I also have a police K-9 named Thor. He was certified in drugs and general duty. He retired at 3 years old because he was shot in the line of duty. He lives with us now and I still train with him because he likes it. I always liked the fact that there was no way to bring drugs into my house. Thor wouldn't allow it. He would tell on you. The reason I say this is so you understand that I know about drugs. I have taught in schools about drugs. My wife asks all our kids at least once a week if they used any drugs. Makes them promise they won't. I like building computers occasionally and started building a new one in February 2005. I also was working on some of my older computers. They were full of dust so on one of my trips to the computer store I bought a 3 pack of DUST OFF. Dust Off is a can of compressed air to blow dust off a computer. A few weeks later when I went to use one of the DUST OFF cans they were all gone. After talking to my kids my two sons said they had used them on their computer and were messing around with them. I yelled at them for wasting the 10 dollars I paid for them. On February 28 I went back to the computer store. They didn't have the 3 pack which I had bought on sale so I bought a single jumbo can of Dust Off. I went home and set it down beside my computer. On March 1st, I left for work at 10 PM. Just before midnight my wife went down and kissed Kyle goodnight. At 5:30 am the next morning Kathy went downstairs to wake Kyle up for school, before she left for work. He was propped up in bed with his legs crossed and his head leaning over. She called to him a few times to get up. He didn't move. He would sometimes tease her like this and pretend he fell back asleep. He was never easy to get up. She went in and shook his arm. He fell over. He was pale white and had the straw from the Dust Off can coming out of his mouth. He had the new can of Dust Off in his hands. Kyle was dead. I am a police officer and I had never heard of this. My wife is a nurse and she had never heard of this. We later found out from the coroner, after the autopsy, that only the propellant from the can of Dust Off was in his system. No other drugs. Kyle had died between midnight and 1 AM. I found out that using Dust Off is being done mostly by kids’ ages 9 through 15. They even have a name for it. It's called dusting. A take off from the Dust Off name. It gives them a slight high for about 10 seconds. It makes them dizzy. A boy who lives down the street from us showed Kyle how to do this about a month before. Kyle showed his best friend. Told him it was cool and it couldn't hurt you. It's just compressed air. It can't hurt you. His best friend said so. Kyle was wrong. It's not just compressed air. It also contains a propellant called R2. It's a refrigerant like what is used in your refrigerator. It is a heavy gas. Heavier than air. When you inhale it, it fills your lungs and keeps the good air, with oxygen, out. That's why you feel dizzy, buzzed. It decreases the oxygen to your brain & heart. There is no level that kills you & therefore there is no warning. There is no cumulative overdose. You can die as your breathing it in. If not, you can die within seconds of finishing "the hit." That's why the straw was still in Kyle's mouth, when he died. Why his eyes were still open. There is no chemical reaction. No strong odor. Kyle complained a few days before he died of his tongue hurting. It probably did. The propellant causes frostbite. If I had only known. It's easy to say hey, it's my life and I'll do what I want. But it isn't. Others are always affected. This has forever changed our family's life. I have a hole in my heart and soul that can never be fixed. The pain is so immense I can't describe it. There's nowhere to run from it. I cry all the time and I don't ever cry. I do what I'm supposed to do; but I don't really care. My kids are messed up. One won't talk about it. The other will only sleep in our room at night. And my wife, I can’t even describe how bad she is taking this. I thought we were safe because of Thor. I thought we were safe because we knew about drugs and talked to our kids about them. After Kyle died, another story came out. A Probation Officer went to the school system next to ours to speak with a student. While there, he found a student using Dust Off in the bathroom. This student told him about another student, who also had some in his locker. This is a rather affluent school system. They will tell you they don't have a drug problem there. They don't even have a dare or plus program there. So rather than tell everyone about this "new" way of getting high that they found, they hid it. The probation officer told the media after Kyle's death and they, the school, then admitted to it. I know that if they would have told the media and I had heard, it wouldn't have been in my house. We need to get this out of our homes and school computer labs. Using Dust Off isn't new and some "professionals" do know about it. It just isn't talked about much, except by the kids. They all seem to know about it. April 2nd was 1 month since Kyle died. April 5th would have been his 15th birthday. And every weekday I catch myself sitting on the living room couch at 2:30 in the afternoon and waiting to see him get off the bus. I know Kyle is in heaven; but I can't help but wonder if I died and went to Hell.
Just Your Normal High-School Boy
"Susan" - Death from Chronic Alcoholism
I am the mother of a 49-year old daughter who died as the result of alcohol
addiction. Words are really inadequate to express how her addiction and death
have affected my life. It is impossible to express the anguish and devastation I
have felt as the result of her addiction and death. I will never get over the
fact that she is no longer here, I will never hear her voice again, we will
never laugh at some inconsequential thing, I will never see her smile and marvel
at the way she would light up any room she entered. She is gone from this earth
and my life will never be the same.
My daughter, Susan, was born in November, 1953. She died in November of 2002. The Medical Examiner’s report stated that she died as a result of chronic alcoholism and loss of blood from injuries from a fall. She had been beautiful, talented, vivacious, funny, a wonderful nurse, and I thought not only my daughter, but also my friend. For years I had no idea she was addicted to alcohol. In fact, I was in denial when told a year and a half before her death, when she suffered a subdural hematoma, that she was in liver failure due to chronic alcoholism. I had no idea she was an alcoholic. Sometimes utter desolation comes over me and the tears start to fall. My faith has helped sustain and support me. I have found that writing poetry is therapeutic when the dark bad times engulf me. My Heart My heart is a lonely place A dark tunnel leading nowhere Where am I to find joy again In this world? My heart is crying tears Sometimes they spill out of my eyes Sometimes they stay In my heart.
You ask, "What
was it like......?" What was it like when our home became a daily battlefield, and
the last battle, or so we thought, was when he pulled a knife
on us and threatened to kill us?
Steven James Renauer died on June 26, 2002 at the age of
21, of a heroin overdose.
I Will Always Remember My Son Steven Before The Drugs WHEN HE WAS FULL OF LOVE
WHEN HE WAS ALWAYS GIVING
WHEN HE TOLD THE TRUTH
WHEN HE HAD DREAMS FOR THE FUTURE
WHEN HE LIKED BEING WITH YOU FOR NO REASON
WHEN HIS LAUGH BOUNCED OFF THE WALLS
WHEN HIS EYES DANCED WITH DELIGHT
WHEN HIS SMILE LIT UP THE ROOM
WHEN HE LIVED LIFE TO THE FULLEST
By Steve’s Mom, Sherri Renauer
Hello one
and all,
Jessica Joy Estok - Bring fight against heroin into the open
Bring fight against
heroin into the open
We buried our dear granddaughter, Jessica Joy Estok, yesterday. There are no words to explain the pain we feel. I was glad that my daughter in the obituary told exactly what caused this tremendous loss ... heroin. Too many of us would rather not hear that word, but it sends a clear message to young people just how deadly this drug is and how much more we all should be aware of it and, yes, right here in our neighborhoods. It is easily obtained if you know the "language." It is my hope that more families would say in the obituaries the reason why they lost their young ones. Let's not feel it is a stigma. Let's talk about it and fight it with all of our being. Dee Thomas Arlington Heights
I see the countless Christmas trees Around the world below, With tiny lights like heaven’s stars Reflecting in the snow.
The sight is so spectacular Please wipe away that tear For I’m spending Christmas With Jesus Christ this year.
I hear the many Christmas songs That people hold so dear But earthly music can’t compare With the Christmas choir up here.
I have no words to tell you The joy their voices bring For it’s beyond description To hear the angels sing.
I know how much you miss me, Trust God and have no fear, For I’m spending Christmas With Jesus Christ this year.
I can’t tell you of the splendor Or the peace here in this place. Can you imagine Christmas With our Savior, face to face?
May God uplift your spirit As I tell Him of your love Then pray for one another As you lift your eyes above.
So let your hears be joyful And let your spirits sing For I’m spending Christmas in Heaven And I’m walking with the King!
"The Rainbow Bridge" - by Denise Tecuanhuey, remembering Jesse & Silkk
Jan 5, 2003 Mother’s Story on Her Lost Child
Sadly on Nov. 18, 1998 my son Jesse lost his battle with heroin and cocaine addiction. An overdose took his life just six days before his nineteenth birthday. I miss him terribly. In August 1998, the day after Jesse left a Drug Treatment facility, his beloved dog Silkk was hit by a SUV in front of our house. She was severely injured and Jesse made the decision to have her put down. Silkk was an awesome little dog and was just six weeks old when she came to us. Jesse loved her so much, our whole family did. I’d like to share a dream with you that I had a few months after Jesse’s passing. First of all in my dream Jesse was still with us and Silkk was missing. Somehow we found out where she was. My husband, Jesse, my son Tony and I went to get her. I have no idea how we got to this place or where it was, we just knew. It felt as if we were high on a mountain on top of the world. We came to a clearing that was surrounded by trees, a very peaceful place. We couldn’t see in past the trees but we knew that Silkk was in there. There were two people at the entrance, something like guards. Jesse was the only one of us allowed to go in. We knew that we couldn’t. Jesse started walking in through the trees to find Silkk, never to walk out again. “The End.” Probably about a year later I was talking on the phone to my friend Veronica and I told her about my dream. She said, “Oh my gosh Denise I have something for you to read, I’ll send it to you.” Please read on, this is what she sent me. “The Rainbow Bridge”
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge, there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass. When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and frail animals are young again. Those who are maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other. There is only one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So each day they run and play until the day comes when one suddenly looks up! The nose twitches. The ears are up. The eyes are staring. And this one suddenly runs from the group. You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet, you take him or her in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated.
Note: The picture of Jesse & Silkk that was in our first HOH Newsletter was the last picture I took of them. It was taken July 11, 1998. Jesse was home on his first pass from Brandon House In-Patient Treatment - strong and healthy looking. That picture is now on his marker at the cemetery. I know that my beautiful son Jesse and his dog Silkk are up there together in a better place. Peace, Denise Tecuanhuey “Remembering Jesse & Silkk” and others
"He Was Trapped by Addiction - Lukas N. Swanson" By Harry Hitzeman, Jan 21, 2007
The 18-year-old from Geneva could not shake his heroin addiction. He died from an apparent overdose Sunday. Swanson’s parents didn’t want him to die in vain, so they wrote in his death notice that he lost a battle with “drug addiction.” “We did the obit the way we did hopefully to help somebody else,” said Swanson’s stepfather, Jay Trapp. “We don’t want Lukas to die in vain — even if we could help just one person.” Maybe Swanson can help two. Darlene Marcusson, executive director at Lazarus House in St. Charles, where Swanson stayed briefly, said two people with their own substance abuse problems called her after hearing about Swanson’s death asking how to get help. “After seeing this, they’re going to make a different choice,” Marcusson said. “He was a great kid. He was smart and funny and had a wonderful heart. He was just trapped by this addiction.” More than 200 people attended Swanson’s wake Thursday, including former teachers, a bus driver, juvenile officers and deans. He was buried Friday. Friends and family members recalled a bright youth who loved his three dogs and three cats and wanted to become a veterinarian when he got older. They also reminisced about a middle-school student who got straight As and a 5-year-old who really dressed up for school. “His passion when he was younger was bow ties and suits because when he was about 2 years old, he got a tuxedo because he was in a wedding,” said Swanson’s mother, Kristie Trapp. Trapp said she was thankful for all the support she and her son received over the years from police, counselors and juvenile officers. She said she hopes Lukas’ story of heroin addiction helps “people get educated and you cannot be in denial about it.” Trapp said Swanson began getting high on cough syrup after his parents divorced more than five years ago. That escalated to alcohol, anti-depressants, marijuana and heroin. His family sent him to numerous treatment centers, including the Cross Creek Center in Utah. But when he turned 18 in November, Swanson checked himself out. Swanson was going to move to San Francisco, but he changed his mind and came back to Geneva. “He was a genuine person, kind, considerate and thoughtful, everything a parent would want to hear about their child, except he had a drug addiction that he just couldn’t shake and his drug addiction was heroin,” said Lukas’ father, Randy Swanson. “He knew his addiction was stronger than anything else. He would tell you it’s the greatest thing in the world. It was better than anything you could feel.” Jay Trapp said Lukas wrote an online blog of his struggles with drug addiction and rehab. Over about a two-year span, it got more than 20,000 hits. But Swanson never finished it. “I kept telling him, ‘You need an ending, a positive message in there to give people hope,’ ” Jay Trapp said. “He was a wonderful, caring human being. He struggled with the disease of addition for a long time.” Memorials in Swanson’s memory can be made to the Assembly of God Christian Center, 3450 Swenson Ave., St. Charles.
P.O. Box 3314 St. Charles, IL 60174 Tel: (630) 327-9937 Fax: (630) 232-9240 Email: Info@HeartsOfHope.Net |
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