Series: Requiem For Heroin's Victims (Part 1 Of 6)

RYAN'S CHOICE

Ryan Meyer shook the Christmas present. It was the correct size, felt the
correct weight, but did Santa Claus get it right?

Exactly as he had mentally rehearsed in the days that led to Dec. 25, 1990,
Ryan ripped off the colorful wrapping paper then flipped open the box cover
- - never mind the careful skill his mother used to wrap the present or the
two seconds it would have taken to save its bow.

There they were - his rite of passage on the McKinley Elementary School
playground in Ottawa - his first pair of Nike Air Jordan basketball shoes.

The 6-year-old triumphantly held the white, black and red shoes in the air
by the laces, as if admiring a trophy catch.

"That was his favorite present," his mother Lori Meyer recalled. "He told
my mom later that day that it was his favorite Christmas ever."

Ryan Christopher Meyer, 20, died of a heroin overdose nearly 14 years
later. He was pronounced dead at 8:10 a.m. Aug. 25, 2004 in Community
Hospital of Ottawa. A La Salle County Coroner's jury ruled Nov. 4, 2004,
that his death was accidental.

As a child, Ryan's favorite athlete was Chicago Bulls basketball legend
Michael Jordan. His eyes would light up as he watched the sports superstar
on television from the living room floor of the three-bedroom house he and
his mother shared on Ottawa's south side.

His parents separated when he was an infant, but both worked hard to
support him.

Throughout much of Ryan's youth, Lori, who lives in Ottawa, moonlighted as
a substitute teacher in Ottawa's public elementary and high school
districts, and as the director of preschool and day care at Easter Seals of
La Salle and Bureau counties in Ottawa. She currently is the children's
librarian at Reddick Library in Ottawa.

Ryan's father, Marty Meyer of LaMoille, has worked as a contractor in the
nuclear power industry since 1985. Although his work schedule, 72 to 84
hours per week for seven to eight months per year, was difficult, he tried
hard to stay in his son's life.

From kindergarten to sixth grade, Ryan's parents and teachers described
him as a typical American kid.

"He was the kind of student who didn't stand out because he wasn't
exceptional, but he didn't need a lot of help either," said Carol Sand,
Ryan's third-grade teacher at McKinley. "He was a sweet, peppy boy."

But things changed in Ryan's home life and at school. He had trouble
adapting to junior high school life, battled depression and became
frustrated, ultimately turning to the wrong crowd for support.

Ryan made on wrong choice after another until he made an irreversible error
- - he tried snorting heroin. His third time killed him.

"He wasn't a leader, he was a follower," Lori said. "It seemed like from
the time he was little he struggled to fit in. That's how it all started."

Teenage Angst

Ryan's troubles began while attending Shepherd Middle School in Ottawa, a
school of 520 students.

the switch from his 360 student elementary school was difficult. Now he had
to remember what class was next, when it was, and what books to take. The
added responsibility was frustrating, as was getting to know several
teachers all at once, Lori said.

"Other parents told me their kids had the same problems," she said, "but
he's a one-on-one person. Without being able to develop a bond with his
teachers, he felt they were just picking on him when they were trying to
make him more responsible."

Though, not every teacher became an enemy.

Ryan played the trombone from fifth grade until his freshman year of high
school. It was enough time to develop a rapport with his junior high band
teacher, Donna Martin.

"He was a bit of a character with a twinkle in his eye," Donna remembers.
"He would banter back and forth with me, so I used humor to reach him."

Donna said the banter was playful. One day, she unofficially awarded him
for creating the most excuses on why his alarm clock failed.

"I was concerned about him, to be honest," she said. "I think he needed to
be with that particular group of kids socially so I tried to keep him with
us for as long as I could."

By the eighth grade, Ryan attended counseling sessions for his depression.
He was prescribed Prozac, but refused to take it, fearing his peers would
find out and think he was crazy.

About the same time, Ryan began to dabble with booze and marijuana, Lori
recalled.

"I think his battle with depression may have played into why he was using,"
she said. "He may have been bipolar, but doctors told me his manic state
was anger, not happiness."

At a time in life when acceptance from peers plays a large part in
determining self-worth, Ryan felt small at Shepherd, a school where most
children had both parents in the household and earned a higher than
middle-class income.

"Looking at the other children in the school was probably difficult," Lori
said.

Ryan's homelife added to his problems.

(Marty) and Ryan spent every Sunday together so he would watch out the
window for him, and on the days he didn't show up he would sit on my lap
and cry when he was little," Lori said.

Marty agreed, saying there were some unfortunate times when everyone said
things they would later regret, but that years later the family was able to
settle their differences.

In 1997, Lori said Ryan began spending more time with friends while
ignoring family.

When Ryan became a freshman at Ottawa Township High School his problems
escalated. He skipped class, got angry with faculty and fought with students.

But there was hope.

Life In Michigan

Halfway through his sophomore year of high school in December 1999, Ryan
moved to Charlevoix, Mich., with his father.

"He wanted to get away from the bad influences," Marty said.

In Michigan, Ryan discovered a love for skiing and snowboarding.

"He got real good, real quick," Marty said. "It was freaking scary. I
started contacting people so he could join ski clubs and I was getting
ready to be a ski-bum parent.:

But in late February 2000, Michigan experienced a sudden flash of warm
weather, and the new high in Ryan's life melted.

"And soon enough, he attracts the wrong kind of people," Marty said.

Ryan struggled through problems with alcohol and truancy. By the end of the
summer, the state of Michigan ordered him to live in a foster home about 15
miles away in Petoskey, Mich.

The foster home did him good. Four to five months passed and "he seemed to
be flying straight again," Marty said.

Ryan was succeeding in a 12-step program for people with addictions. Once
the snow began to fall, he was back on Michigan's northern slopes. He also
was permitted to leave the foster home and move back in with his father.

One day on a snowy hilltop under a bright sun, Marty, Rayn and Ryan's
younger half brother Michael were plotting a course down a ski slope.

Ryan turned to his father, kissed him on the head, then told him he loved
him before speeding down the hillside.

"It was like he was free," Marty remembered. "I though it's finally going
to be OK. He's finally beaten this monster."

Lori also noticed something changed about Ryan when he visited her in
Ottawa on Thanksgiving Day 2000.

"He was so different," she said. "He was like a regular person, laughing
and joking around the dinner table."

But once again in early 2001, Ryan found himself back in the courtroom for
alcohol and truancy violations, and the State of Michigan ordered him back
to the foster home.

Through his roller coaster ride through life in Michigan, Ryan graduated
from Great Lakes Academic Center alternative school in Boyne City, Mich. He
also found work at a local Big Boy restaurant. A full-ride grant to skilled
trades school also opened up for him. But it was too late. Ran's addiction
to alcohol, marijuana, and probably cocaine, grew too strong for him to
overcome, especially at an age where "kids think they are invincible,"
Marty said.

"Ryan did not die ignorant," he added. "His mother and I did the tough
love thing. He went to addiction programs in Michigan, there were
opportunities for him to go to school, join a worker's union, and he walked
away from all of them."

Marty was there for moral support when Ryan had to meet with family
counselors, social workers, attorneys and court officials. He also tried to
bring stability back to the family by moving into a ranch-style house in
Michigan, hoping the setting would do Ryan good.

But Ryan's time in Michigan was over. By the end of summer in 2002, Ryan
had grown tired of being an adult ward of the state, so he moved in with
his mother in Ottawa - the same city where his problems began.

"There is only so much you can do when someone so close to you is an
addict," Marty said. "Now there's a spot on my sould where I failed him as
a father and as a human being.

"I don't want anybody's pity," he added. "The people who know me know I
tried hard even when I kept screwing up."

Ryan's Fall

It didn't take long for Lori to become suspicious of Ryan after he moved
back to Ottawa on Labor Day weekend of 2002.

"When he was using he was quiet, angry, and stayed away from the family,"
she said.

He was even distant when she woke him one morning to tell him his miniature
schnauzer, Rags, had died.

"But that night he came into my room and broke down and starting crying,"
Lori said. "He didn't show a lot of emotion or say a lot. He let it build
up and when it came out you knew he was human."

Ryan's legal troubles also continued.

On Dec. 3, 2002, he pleaded guilty to speeding 31-plus mph over the speed
limit, and on March 18, 2003, was fined for a minor speeding violation.

His trouble with the law got worse. On Aug. 20, 2003, he pleaded guilty to
unlawful possession of cannabis 2.5-10 grams and was sentenced to one year
of court supervision. A charge of driving while license suspended was
dismissed.

Then, on Sept. 17, 2003, he pleaded guilty to unlawful consumption of
alcohol by a minor and was sentenced to six months court supervision.

His biggest day in court came June 10, 2004, when he pleaded guilty to a
Class 4 felony violation of lawful possession of a controlled substance
(cocaine). He was sentenced to 30 months special probation plus 180 days in
jail with credit for 88 days served. A Class 2 felony charge of unlawful
possession of a controlled substance (cocaine) was dismissed.

"I felt hopeless," Lori said. "I have a job where I'm exposed to the public
so I didn't want people to think I condoned what he was doing."

Another conviction of a drug crime and La Salle County prosecutors would
most likely seek a prison sentence.

Ryan never got that chance.

The phone call came on Aug. 25, 2004. Ryan's friend, who was a juvenile at
the time, told Lori to get to Community Hospital of Ottawa quickly. Ryan's
friend and Eddie Kazinskis of Ottawa were with Ryan the night he died.

The NewsTribune could not reach Kazinskis for comment.

Ottawa police chief Brian Zeilmann would not release the police report
because the case still is considered under investigation.

When Lori arrived at the hospital, Ryan already was dead.

Lori said La Salle County chief deputy coroner Ed Taylor later told her and
Marty that it appeared Ryan did not regularly use heroin.

"I'm sure Ryan had tried a dose that he couldn't handle," Lori said.

It's baffling, Marty says, when he tries to figure out why.

"Ryan knew how dangerous heroin was. Ryan knew how addictive cocaine was.
Ryan knew where smoking marijuana would lead him," he said. "Ryan had a
choice - he chose to continue."

With no clear answer as to why, Marty often finds himself talking with
friends who have children who are struggling with substance abuse. He's
even offered to talk to them about what happened to Ryan.

Marty also blames himself, feeling as if he could have done something to
prevent Ryan from choosing a path that led to his death.

"I've lost the need for dignity in this matter," he said. "It's such a
painful, frustrating, shocking thing that there's just no simple answer so
I have to look at myself."

Even Marty's political views changed.

"I was a little right of center before, but now I've become more interested
in domestic issues than (foreign) issues," he said. "Why are we wasting all
this money overseas when we Can't control our own borders? What the hell
are we doing overseas wasting lives when we have crime and drugs polluting
these little towns of ours?"

As for Lori, she organized the creation of "Ryan's Reading Gazebo" in the
children's section of Reddick Library. Underneath the wooden structure is a
plastic bag filled with the names of people who donated money and helped
build it in her son's memory. There's also a story in the bag on why it was
built.

Both Marty and Lori say there isn't a moment when they don't wish they
could have done more to help their son.

"He was my kid, my baby, but he was his own man, too," Marty said. "He
chose not to stay sober and now he's dead. Heroin is as random as a car wreck."