VIGIL MARKS DRUGS' TOLL

A vigil at the Drug Enforcement Administration's headquarters
remembered those who've died of drug abuse and addiction

John Atkinson's smiling face fit in perfectly with the other young,
bright faces around him.

His mom, Bonnie Atkinson, stood in a crowd and pointed him out as
tears welled up in her eyes.

The face she was pointing out was John's, but it was only a picture,
hung on a memorial wall at the national Drug Enforcement
Administration's headquarters in Arlington.

Bonnie Atkinson's son died four years ago of a cocaine overdose. He was 21.

The wall was part of the Vigil for Lost Promise, held Thursday for
families and friends who have lost a loved one to drug addiction.

More than 500 people gathered to share their stories and to light
candles in remembrance of those who died.

Shirts, hats and buttons with pictures of youthful faces adorned the
people they left behind.

Atkinson, of Fredericksburg, clutched a picture of John in one hand
and a candle in the other. She stood next to her boyfriend, Ray
Bartley, as the faces of lost promise flashed on a jumbo TV screen
next to the stage.

Atkinson, 42, said she remembers John as a loving person who liked
fishing, music, Christmas and doing nice things for her.

His struggle with alcohol and drugs began when he was 13, but
Atkinson didn't find out about it until three years later.

In 1997 John was a passenger in a car wreck and had to be airlifted
to the hospital. While at the hospital, doctors told Atkinson they'd
found cocaine in John's system.

After that, he checked into a rehabilitation facility. When he got
out, Atkinson thought things were getting better.

"He was real hopeful for a while," she said.

John later moved to Massachusetts with his girlfriend.

Atkinson said she thought it would be like a geographic cure.

"I thought he was going to be able to move somewhere the drugs
wouldn't be," she said.

But John found drugs again and was forced to bounce from house to
house and state to state as different people kicked him out of their homes.

Atkinson said she knew she had lost her son when she came home from
work one night in 2002 and found her jewelry box cleaned out.

She said he had stolen from his father before, but never from her.

"I could tell by looking at him that my son wasn't there anymore,"
she said. "His body was there but he was gone.

"I think I really started mourning him then, even before he died."

A week later, on March 30, 2002, Atkinson's mother and sisters showed
up at her door to deliver the news--John had died in his sleep the
night before.

Flickers of John's story appeared in many others, told by parents,
brothers, sisters and friends at the vigil.

No one there could believe this had happened to someone they loved.
No one understood why this tragedy was forced upon them.

But keynote speaker Lonise Bias told the crowd not to wallow in their pain.

Bias' son Len Bias died of a cocaine overdose in 1986, two days after
being picked second in the NBA draft by the Boston Celtics.

Despite this tragedy, Bias said her son did not die in vain.

"If Len were alive today, he would have entertained you," she said.
"In death, he's brought life."

Bias has used her personal loss to fuel a campaign against substance
abuse. She urged those at the vigil to do the same and to fight what
she perceives as the country's denial of its drug problem.

"That love that you had for that loved one another child needs that
love," she said. "When you give that love out it will give healing to you."

Atkinson said she has tried to do just that. After John's death she
created a Web site, mysonjohn.com, in his memory.

It started with just pictures of John and poems about grief, but it
has turned into both a personal outlet and a resource with
information about substance abuse.

Atkinson uses the site as a way to keep her son's memory alive and as
a way to fight the stigma often associated with drug use. She said
addiction is a disease and people should reach out to those affected
by it the same way they would to someone living with cancer or diabetes.

Atkinson also has become involved with a letter-writing campaign,
urging school and government officials to implement random drug
testing in schools.

"If my son had been tested and I could have gotten help way back, I
think it really would have made a difference," she said.

Four years later, Atkinson said she believes she is finally in a
place where she has hope again. She enjoys spending time with her
daughter and with John's son, Bradley, whose eighth birthday was Thursday.

She attends a support group for family members of alcoholics and said
she has a new understanding of God.

In December, she got a Christmas tree for the first time since John's death.

Little things remind Atkinson of her son's presence every day.

When she gets pennies, she always looks at the dates on them.

On Mother's Day this year, she flipped one over to find the numbers
1962, the year Bartley was born.

And quite often, she said she gets pennies from 1981 or 2002, the
years of John's birth and death, which she sees as a sign.

"On two different occasions I've gotten both at one time, which
leaves without a doubt in my mind that that's John saying 'Hello Mom.'"