AT THE RUSAK HOME, THERE'S AN EMPTY CHAIR

Author: Jennifer F. Steil Daily Record

CHATHAM -- Until May, Steve Rusak's family had dinner together every night
at 6:30 p.m., each family member in his or her special seat around the
dining room table.

But since 19-year-old Steve died May 18 of a heroin overdose in a car
parked in Union Township, his father, Ray, stepmother, Deborah, and
stepbrother and sister can't bring themselves to eat next to Steve's empty
chair.

Instead, the family eats at a table off the kitchen, in random seats at
irregular times.

Dinner is just one of the many adjustments the Rusaks have made since Steve
died. Even grocery shopping is difficult. Ray Rusak, 51, still finds
himself buying Steve's favorite foods, like fudge-striped cookies and
Wonton soup. Or he picks up five potatoes instead of four.

"Steve really was the center of my life," said Rusak, whose eyes still fill
with tears when he speaks his son's name. "I have five children and Steve
was in the middle.... He was the baby for a long time. When his mom died,
Steve and I were the only two people for a long time."

Late wife's legacy

died with son

Florence "Rennie" Rusak died in 1991 of breast cancer. Rusak remarried in
1995. Deborah, 45, has two children from her first marriage, Danielle
Kline, 16, and Steven Kline, 12 -- called "Little Steve" by the family.

The marriage is Rusak's third. He has one son, Ray, 30, from his first
marriage. After he married Florence, he adopted her son by her first
marriage, Chris, 35.

"It's so hard to just face it that Steve's not coming back, for everyone in
our family, but especially Ray," Danielle said.

With Steve, Ray's hope of grandchildren to carry on his late wife's legacy
died. Now he does not know what to do with the furniture and jewelry that
has been passed down in her family through generations. "It doesn't belong
to me," he said.

"I have a really strong sense of family and Steve and Chris were my wife
Rennie's only children," he said. "And Chris is gay, so Rennie won't have
any grandchildren. A whole section of my life has been wiped out."

"I still feel that my world is flying apart. A day doesn't go by when I
don't feel like I miss him."

The Rusaks have sold both cars that Steve used to drive, including the one
in which he died. "The hardest part was getting rid of the Volvo, the one
he was found in, because Steve learned to drive in that car and I was
hoping Danielle and Steve could learn to drive in that car," Deborah said.

The family has still not retrieved Steve's wallet from authorities.

"It makes you feel bad to do stuff like that. I have a hard time using the
computer downstairs, because it still has traces of Steve in it," said Ray,
mentioning some of his son's computer games.

He even misses the talks with Steve while driving him to rehabilitation.
Rusak, who retired from a pharmaceutical company in 1996 after eight years
as an operations manager, spent a lot of time with his son.

I know God's

not punishing me ...

Deborah, a slim woman with red hair and the soothing manner of a nurse --
she works as one at Valley Hospital in Ridgewood -- said the Hillside
Avenue home is certainly quieter.

"He liked loud music," said the younger Steve, a sturdy freckled boy with
blue eyes and a dark crew cut. "We'd play video games. He'd show me what to
do, and then later I would try to do the same thing."

He is also a little more nervous about being downstairs late at night, now
that his older brother no longer sleeps there.

The two cats, T.C. (short for "The Cat") and Tiger, still sleep in Steve's
bedroom. "They are lost without him," Ray said.

Danielle likes to sit in Steve's room, remembering him. "I miss him.... I
joke about it that I've been in his room more after he died than when he
was alive." She used to hate Steve's heavy metal posters and Metallica
T-shirts, but now she finds them comforting.

This is not her first loss. Or her family's.

Steve and Danielle lost their father six years ago. Ray and Deborah have
also each lost a spouse.

"I sometimes talk to God. I still get annoyed because my father died when I
was in fifth grade of cancer and then this. I know things happen, that
God's not punishing anyone, but why me?" Danielle said.

"We've all been through the loss of somebody close before. It takes a long
time for things to settle down," Deborah said.

"There's some relief in not having to worry about Steve. On the other hand,
you'd rather have him here to worry about," she added.

And the whole family did worry.

"You always worried about him whenever he went out," his step-brother said.
"I was glad when he was going in and getting help."

Deborah was also concerned about the example Steve's drug use set for her
own children. "But he was never physically harmful to anyone, so that was
never an issue," she said.

Danielle is a member of Students of Sobriety and Teens Against Tobacco Use
at Chatham High School. She said that most of the time her older brother's
drug use was invisible to her, but it was upsetting.

The younger Steve said drugs did not appeal to him. "I don't even like a
sip of champagne," he said. "There was a couple of times he (Steve) said
`Don't get into this.' He really wanted to get out of it."

Ray said that Danielle and Steve had been very supportive when their
stepbrother was in rehabilitation.

The Klines missed a week of school after their older brother's death.
Danielle said her teachers pressured her to complete unnecessary
assignments and did not understand her grief.

"I'm not like everyone else. I've had a lot happen to me and I'm only 16,"
she said.

Her friends have not offered much support either. "It's hard talking to my
friends because they're so afraid to bring up the subject. And it bothers
me because all I want to do is talk," she said.

Steve was luckier. "All my teachers really showed support and said don't
worry about the schoolwork," he said.

When their father died, Steve and Danielle went to some grief groups and
therapy, but they both have reservations about returning. "I don't want to
go. It's boring," Steve said.

"Steve (Rusak) went to counseling from the day his mom died. And what
happened? He died," Danielle said.

Was it suicide?

`We don't know'

Family members talk among themselves about their loss.

Steve remembers that his older brother used to ride roller coasters all day
long with him during the family's annual trips to Virginia.

"The first thing that comes to mind when I think about Steve is not that he
died of drugs, but that he was a good person to be around, to open
Christmas presents with, to be at my birthday, to have at family parties,"
Danielle said.

The family lives with many unresolved questions about Steve's death. "We
don't know whether Steve killed himself or not," his father said. "There is
some evidence to suggest he did, but we don't know."

One thing they are finding out is how many friends Steve had.

"I've met a lot of his friends I never knew before, who he never brought
home. I didn't approve of his friends before he died," his father said.
"After he died, I was surprised at how nice they were -- they're a lot like
Steve."

Several of them still stop by to visit. "Last week a girl stopped by. She
was moving and she asked for some pictures," Deborah said.

On the flagstone in the Memory Garden of Stanley Congregational Church on
Fairmount Avenue, under which Steve's cremated remains are buried, friends
have left small stones in the shape of a cross. Once or twice a week, Ray
visits to leave a rose from his garden.

"I love all my children, but Steve I love the most," he said.

"When my mother died in '76 it was that bad," he said, stretching his arms
apart. "And when my wife died, it was that bad," he said, stretching his
arms wider. "But, with Stevie, I could never get my arms far enough apart
to show you how bad it is."

Checked-by: Mike Gogulski