In Memory of Justin Haeger

The first thing that comes to Karen Haeger’s mind when she thinks about her son Justin is his capacity for friendship. Her husband, Ron, nodded and said, “Justin was everybody’s best friend.”

Two years ago, Justin died from a methadone overdose. Last year, on what would have been his 22nd birthday, his parents launched the first Justin C. Haeger 10-mile run. The run raised almost $5,000 for Daybreak, a local facility that offers inpatient and outpatient treatment for teens struggling with drug and alcohol abuse.

The Second Annual Justin C. Haeger Run will take place Saturday. Ron Haeger said, “It was a terrible, tragic way to lose my son. I wanted something good to come out of it.”

The Haegers never imagined they’d lose their firstborn in such a senseless fashion. In family photos, Justin’s huge brown eyes and engaging grin command attention. Ron, an avid outdoorsman, said his son shared his love of nature. In fact, Justin went on his first hunting trip with his dad when he was 18 months old. “He was always with me,” Haeger said.

However, Justin was known for his propensity to push the envelope. Haeger said, “He’d always go one step beyond what other kids would do.” His parents smiled as they recalled his love of T-shirts imprinted with the “No Fear” logo.

It was the lack of fear that propelled him to begin experimenting with drugs. He tried marijuana in the eighth grade. Soon, he stopped hanging out with his dad – the hunting trips tapered off.

“We started watching him,” Karen Haeger said. “He’d sneak out at night.” They caught him drinking with his friends, and they even tapped their phones to monitor his behavior.

His parents did everything possible to change the course Justin seemed determined to pursue. They enrolled him in a couple of outpatient treatment programs that proved unsuccessful. “He could schmooze anybody,” Karen said. “Even professional counselors.”

Justin left the family home while still in high school. He’d periodically move back but wouldn’t stay sober or follow house rules. During this time, his parents believe he got hooked on prescription drugs. In a late night conversation just days before his death he told his mom, “I really thought it wouldn’t hurt me.”

But in fact, according to Kathy Kramer, director of development for Daybreak, “The number-one cause of overdose death is prescription drugs.”

Ironically, in the nine months preceding his death, Justin had lived a clean life. He was working full time and in a serious relationship. His girlfriend was also trying to get clean and obtained a prescription for Suboxone, a fairly new medicine used to treat drug addiction. She and Justin would split the dose.

Over the years Justin had experienced several run-ins with law enforcement – all for traffic infractions. On March 22, 2006, he was scheduled to be arraigned on one such charge. By mistake, he went to the wrong courtroom and ended up missing his hearing. As a result, he was arrested for failure to appear and taken to Geiger Correctional Center. Jail officials wouldn’t allow him to have Suboxone because the prescription wasn’t in his name.

It didn’t take long for the effects of withdrawal to appear. “He was messed up,” Ron said. “He was chemically out of balance.”

Twenty-two days later, Justin was released. He spent the morning at home and that night said he was going to play football in the park with some friends. He returned quite late, but Karen was awake. They visited until 1:30 in the morning. Justin talked about his hopes and dreams and said, “You know I’ve missed out on so much – a lot of family things.” Looking back, Karen said, “I know the Lord gave me that time with him.” It was to be their last conversation.

The next morning Justin left for work, even though he wasn’t feeling well. He returned home around lunchtime, said he was sick and went to bed. At 2:15 Karen went to Justin’s room. “It was really hard to wake him up,” she said. He got up and drank some juice and then went back to bed.

Several hours later, she said she again tried to wake him – this time she couldn’t. He just kept snoring loudly. Suspicious, she went through his pockets and found a bottle of methadone. Immediately she called the prescribing doctor and explained what was happening.

As she remembered that conversation tears began to fall. She dabbed at her cheeks with a napkin and struggled to continue. “He told me if his (Justin’s) breathing changed to call 911.” All through the day and into the evening she and Ron checked on Justin. His breathing didn’t change, but neither could they rouse him.

At 1:30 a.m. Karen woke with a start. She went to her son’s room. Justin wasn’t breathing. She called for Ron and their younger son, Joe, and dialed 911. They began CPR and were able to get a heart beat before the ambulance arrived. It was Good Friday.

As the family gathered at the hospital, Karen said, “We just started to believe he was going to get better. That God was going to rescue him.”

But by Easter morning Justin’s organs began to shut down. He was unable to breathe on his own, and the family made the decision to take him off life support.

This painful tragedy is something the Haegers hope others will never face. It’s why they established the run with the goal to raise community awareness about prescription drug addiction.

Kathy Kramer said Daybreak is profoundly grateful to the family. The funds raised are used to pay for treatment for teens who can’t afford the help. “What they’ve done is incredibly courageous,” Kramer said of the Haegers. “It’s an act of love for our community.”

Speaking of their loss, Ron Hager said, “We’re different now.” His wife agreed. “You don’t just grieve for what you lost; you grieve for what might have been.”

Haeger gazed at his wife. “For two months after Justin’s death she looked out the window and waited for him to come through the gate.” His mouth trembled. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. “He doesn’t come through the gate anymore.”