TEEN'S DOWNFALL STARTED WITH MOM'S DEATH

[PHOTO CAPTION] Steve Rusak projected the image of a tough guy. `But that's
not who Stevie was. That's the opposite of who he was,' said his father,
Ray Rusak, shown above with a collage of photos dedicated to his late son.
Photo by Chris Pedota

CHATHAM -- When he died on May 18 of a heroin overdose, Steve Rusak, 19,
still slept with the pillow and small blanket given to him at birth.

In his room, medieval tapestry mingles with Megadeth posters, Garfield
cartoons and medieval history books that fill a bookshelf under a Budweiser
sign. Across the room is a sign reading "In Search of The Eternal Buzz,"
and a polka-dotted ruffle still clings to the edges of his vacant mattress.

The pillow and blanket were in Rusak's coffin when he was cremated.

Described by his family and close friends as sweet-natured, Rusak dressed
tough, in a leather jacket and chains. "But that's not who Stevie was," his
father, Ray, said. "That's the opposite of who he was. He never got in a
fight and everyone who knew him said he was a good kid."

In a collage of photographs his family put together after his death, Rusak
smiles in prom pictures and scenic shots from family trips abroad. In one,
he opens presents with his two younger stepsiblings underneath a Christmas
tree. In another, he cuddles the family cat.

In photographs taken by his friends, Rusak, dressed in black jeans and a
black T-shirt, shows the camera the same angelic smile as he flips up his
middle finger.

These contradictions hint at Rusak's struggle to navigate through the pain
of his mother's death, which years of counseling and months of drug
rehabilitation programs failed to ease.

As a child, Rusak traveled frequently with his parents, wrote stories and
loved vacationing at the Jersey Shore.

"He never showed any signs of trouble up until the age of 12," his father
said. "He had a hard time focusing attention on things, but that's not
unusual. And if he was bad or naughty, he never seemed to take punishment
seriously. He had an attitude that he could take it."

What Rusak couldn't take was his mother's death.

After Florence "Rennie" Rusak died in 1991 after a long battle with breast
cancer, Rusak's grades started slipping, so his father put him in counseling.

"It didn't help. He just got progressively worse," Ray Rusak said.

"He would try real hard for a while, but he couldn't stay with it. No
matter what he did, he couldn't stay with it for more than a month," he
said. "As soon as something went wrong, he would give up."

One thing he didn't give up was drugs.

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In high school, Rusak let his wavy blond hair grow long and became
interested in heavy metal bands such as Metallica. He played soccer and
baseball and wrestled. And, in his free time, he drank and got high.

"I wasn't aware of any drug use until sophomore or junior year. Then I
started to find some paraphernalia," said his father, who found a bong,
used to smoke marijuana, in his son's room.

By his senior year, Rusak, who had been using alcohol and marijuana since
freshman year, was worrying about his own behavior. In April 1997, he asked
his father for help with his drug problem. He said he was mostly doing
alcohol and marijuana, but he had tried cocaine, which scared him.

"He had been in counseling this whole time, and I had gotten no feedback
about drug use," his father said. "Except for his schoolwork, there was
nothing really troubling."

Rick Brairton, Rusak's German teacher for four years, described him as a
quiet, serious person. "He was very engaged in the class," said the Chatham
High School teacher of 30 years. "He was obviously interested and eager to
learn."

Rusak was smarter than his work revealed, Brairton said. "He had trouble
sticking to things and focusing on things. But you can tell certain people
have it in language, you know, the knack. And he did have the knack. But it
takes a lot of work, too."

In an arrangement with Rusak's father, Brairton left homework assignments
on the family answering machine. That way Ray Rusak could keep track of his
son's work.

"It worked," Brairton said. "Ray somehow got him to do it."

Brairton said he had no idea Rusak had a drug problem. His grades in German
were consistently average over the four-year period.

"It didn't show up at all here," he said. "And we're not naive. We know
kids can get into things."

Rusak's stepsister, Danielle Kline, 16, said she envied his native
intelligence.

"He was one of the smartest people I knew, but his grades didn't show it. I
get annoyed because his teachers didn't realize it. He was different," she
said. "He was a really bright kid and they didn't want to take the time of
day to figure it out."

That April, Rusak became an outpatient at High Focus, attending group
therapy three times a week at the Morristown rehabilitation center. He was
in the program for six months but had a couple of relapses.

"It was hard for him to do anything for such a long period of time," his
father said, adding that he never saw marked improvement in his son's
maturity or his schoolwork during that time.

"He got stuck at 12," his father said, blaming his wife's death for his
son's emotional troubles.

"Things that motivated other people didn't motivate him. Tomorrow didn't
exist for him. He could only see today."

After completing the High Focus program, Rusak worked two jobs, one at the
Amoco Station on Main Street and one at the Getty station in Chatham Township.

But in December he was arrested for possession of an empty cocaine vial.

"That was the beginning of the end," said his father, who hired a lawyer
and went to court with his son, who was placed in the Pre-Trial
Intervention program for first-time offenders.

Rusak lost both jobs and began outpatient rehabilitation again, this time
at Honesty House in Long Hill.

In January, he was studying biochemistry, environmental science and
medieval history at County College of Morris in Randolph.

"He was doing really well. He was going to school, he was in rehab three
days a week and private counseling two days a week," his father said. He
was also attending Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous meetings.

Rusak relapsed in March after breaking up with a girlfriend. After another
brief clean spell, he relapsed again in April. He was arrested in Newark
and charged with loitering in a drug traffic area with the intent to
purchase marijuana. Rusak never showed up in court and his father received
a warrant for his son's arrest in the mail.

"One of the things that got me angry was that he didn't tell me," said Ray
Rusak, who took his son to Newark, paid the $200 bail, and had the trial
rescheduled for August. "But I was angry with that, because it seemed like
he was doing drugs more than he was telling anybody. He said he just
couldn't handle it, there were too many people telling him to do drugs."

The week before Rusak died, he and his father argued. "I said I had reached
my bottom, and he got upset," Ray Rusak said. "He said, `You just want me
to leave.' I said, `I don't want you to leave, I want you to get better.'"

On May 8, Rusak ran away.

He stayed with his friend, Alex Velasquez, 22, of Madison for a few days
and then with another friend, Joseph Ashby. He refused to accept his
father's phone calls.

On Saturday, May 16, Ray Rusak drove to Ashby's and brought him home. "He
was in bad shape. He hadn't changed his clothes in a week," his father
said. They ate at McDonald's and shopped for a pair of shoes.

Sunday, Rusak took the car and disappeared again while his father was
taking a nap. Police found him on Route 24 with Ashby. Both were charged
with possession of less than 50 grams of marijuana.

Rusak's father picked him up at the police station. That night, they had
dinner with friends. "Everyone was so glad to see him. Everyone was so glad
he was home," his father said.

On Monday, May 18, the family planned to go to Honesty House and see
whether Rusak could be an inpatient.

In the morning, Ray Rusak went for a job interview and hid the extra set of
car keys. His son was still sleeping when he returned, but when he took a
short nap, Rusak found his father's keys and took the car again.

Velasquez returned home that evening to find three messages from Rusak on
his answering machine. "Hey Alex, it's Steve, give me a call," said one
message that Velasquez has saved.

Worried, Velasquez called and spoke to Rusak's father. Both men called
Rusak's other friends, trying to find him.

"I couldn't sleep that night. It's the first time in my life that happened.
It was just like the sixth sense. That was the night before I knew,"
Velasquez said.

Just before taking his father's car, Rusak had ripped a blank check out of
his father's checkbook. He forged a check for $350 and cashed it at a local
bank. "It wasn't even filled out right," his father said. "And then he
bought heroin and he died."

Rusak was found in a car in a Shop Rite parking lot in Union Township
around 7:45 p.m. on May 18, police Lt. Frank Remondelli said. He was
pronounced dead at the scene. Several packets of heroin and drug
paraphernalia were found with him.

Velasquez heard the news when he called the Rusaks the next morning.
Deborah, Rusak's stepmother, answered. "She said `Steve's dead...' I
started crying. I was lying on the ground and crying," Velasquez said.

Velasquez said that he was sure his friend had never done heroin. "Do you
really think it was an accident?" he said. "He killed himself. He committed
suicide. No matter what anyone else says, that's what I think."

Authorities said that Rusak died of a heroin overdose but would not say
whether they believed it was suicide. The Rusaks said they will never be
sure if Steve killed himself.

Ray Rusak doesn't know whether his son's underlying problems could have
been helped.

"If the bank had not cashed the check, if Honesty House had put him
inpatient, if I hadn't left the keys -- all of these things, he might have
been alive," he said. "But I don't know if he would have been better."

Rusak had grown increasingly depressed in the months before his death,
Velasquez said. The night before he died, Rusak argued with a girl he had
been seeing. He was also very upset about the marijuana charges, Velasquez
said.

"He told me `Before I go to jail, I'm going to kill myself.' I said I
didn't want him to do that. I said I loved him. I told him he was my
American brother and he said I was his Colombian brother," said Velasquez,
who moved from Colombia three years ago.

Velasquez said Rusak was his first and best American friend.

"I remember like yesterday, he was driving his car and I was his back seat
driver. He said `You are my best friend. You are the nicest guy I ever
met.' He was always making me feel good all the time. He was always telling
jokes," Velasquez said, his eyes tearing.

In his last phone message to Velasquez, Rusak added a "see you later."

"See you later..." Velasquez echoed his friend's voice as he shut off the
answering machine. He switches on the stereo to play one of Rusak's
favorite songs, "Fade to Black" by Metallica, and sings along.

Checked-by: Mike Gogulski