Oklahoma families battle chemical demons: Linda and Chase Morgan
‘I thought he was going to die’
Published: August 23, 2009
Linda Morgan knew something was wrong with Chase.
Sure, he’d coherently answered her questions about his night out. But something made her check on her 16-year-old son again. She pushed open his bedroom door and found Chase curled into a ball, unconscious and covered with vomit. Morgan screamed at her son. "Wake up! What are you taking? What are you taking?” Nothing. Almost hysterical, she screamed and shook him harder. Finally, he roused and whispered something. "Lortab,” he said. "They took it. I didn’t.” He suddenly lunged for the side of the bed. That morning in May 2006, it seemed as if he’d never stop vomiting.
Realizing the risks
"It was horrendous,” said Chase Morgan, now a 20-year-old Oklahoma State University international business major. At that turning point in 2006, he was so drunk he has no idea what drugs he downed that night.
"I thought he was going to die if I didn’t get him into treatment,” Linda Morgan said.
Some parents, like Morgan, successfully intervene in their kids’ drug use before it’s too late. But she had to sell her house to pay $30,000 in uncovered treatment costs over 51/2 months. She said it was worth every penny.
"That kid has come away with A’s and B’s,” she said. "I had mourned the loss of him never finishing high school, never going to college. I thought he would never be like a normal kid.”
In search of normalcy
As Chase Morgan became addicted to more drugs, he began funding his habit by stealing electronics and other goods.
"It was a rush,” he said.
The situation didn’t hit him, even when he was taking heroin, cocaine and hallucinogenic mushrooms — or when his drug dealer was shot to death over a deal gone wrong.
"I thought I was 10 feet tall and bulletproof. I thought I was invincible. I wasn’t really scared of dying. I wasn’t scared of overdosing or anything,” he said. "I was very into denial.”
His mother realized that. So the weekend after his blackout, she and a friend took him to the Hazel Street Recovery Center in Texarkana, Texas.
"I started crying hysterically, and I was freaking out,” Morgan said. "I was like, ‘Can I say bye to my friends and girlfriend?’ They said, ‘No. You can’t do that.’”
Along the way, he called his friend who helped him steal from cars. He had gone to the same rehab center.
He told Morgan, "Run! Now!”
But Morgan had had a serious scare and several days of sobriety.
"I can’t really do that now because we’re in the middle of nowhere in Texas,” he said.
Sobering thoughts
His 51/2 months at Hazel Street were extremely tough. Tougher than the many hour-long sessions at A Chance to Change over three years. When he came out, he feared relapse if he returned to regular school. Instead, he completed high school on scholarship at Oklahoma Outreach Sober School. He now attends OSU with a benefactor’s help as long as he remains sober.
Every few months he gets a call for help from the friend he called on his way to rehab. Chase Morgan said some people, including the friend, just will never get it.
"They won’t get the concept, and they’re going to either die or go to jail permanently for that sort of life. Or they’ll live messed up their whole life,” Chase Morgan said.
"He’s a grade-A example of that case. ... It breaks my heart, but there’s nothing I can do for him.”
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