GRIM REAPER VISITS TJHS

The 'living dead' roaming the halls served as a reminder of the dangers of
drug use. The dead walked the halls at Tahlequah Junior High School
Thursday. The carnage was terrible. The victims were everywhere.
Skull-faced and silent, they bore testimony of their killers. A heroin
overdose. Prescription drugs. Steroids. Methamphetamine. Drunk drivers. The
Grim Reaper, portrayed by TJHS preventionist Melissa Bethancourt, selected
71 students (and one coach) at random to be stricken in their classrooms,
the hallways, or anywhere else on campus. The activity was part of Red
Ribbon Week, designed to make students more aware of the dangers of
substance abuse. Members of the Drug-Free and Safe Schools Council painted
the students' faces in grim black and white. The students then were sent
back to class. Being "dead" wasn't the worst part of the day for the
students. As part of the exercise, they had to agree to remain silent until
the school day ended at 2:45 p.m. "Sometimes we try to pick the ones who
really talk a lot. Then it shows how much they'd be missed," Bethancourt
said. Students chosen to "die" during the day didn't have to participate if
they didn't want to. Some didn't want to have their faces painted, or
didn't want to stay quiet all day. But Bethancourt had no shortage of
volunteers. "Kill me!" one student pleaded as Bethancourt walked down the
hall. She approached three other students.

"Do you have a meeting now? I was fixing to kill you off," she told them,
and let the students go on to the meeting. Tavarie Hamilton admitted she
probably was chosen because she tends to talk in class. She was a victim of
the Grim Reaper last year, too. "It was kind of weird, because I didn't get
to talk, and I'm very talkative," she said. What killed her last year?

"I can't remember. I think cocaine overdose," she said. This year, heroin
got her.

As she walked back to class, her eyes deeply ringed in black, future
victims shouted at her. "Raccoon! Raccoon!"

Bethancourt's next destination was the choir room. "I always wanted to
die," a boy in the choir said as he volunteered for the project. "It's
really important that if you do this, you do not talk," Bethancourt told
him. Coach Chris Risenhoover was the only faculty member to have his face
painted. Lauren Reasor, who performed the paint work, talked him into it.
"I told him I'd bribe him with cookies," she said.

Unlike the students, Risenhoover had a little leeway on the talking ban.
But Bethancourt encouraged him to write on the board whenever possible. One
student reported Risenhoover showed a video during his next class, and was
sitting silently at his desk. Tarah McCorkle wore a sign saying she was a
victim of a drunken driver. "I think it's sad because this stuff really
does happen," she said. This is the first year the Grim Reaper has appeared
on Halloween. Bethancourt thinks it's appropriate. She said the teachers
were supportive of the activity, letting students out of class to get their
faces painted, and allowing them to remain silent. "They won't ask them
questions out loud in class," Bethancourt said. That doesn't mean the
students are off the hook entirely. Some teachers may ask them to submit
written answers. Face painter Charlie McIntosh said, "OK, you're dead," as
he finished off another of his victims. McIntosh had painted an X across
his forehead, giving him something of a Charles Manson appearance, as he
took his toll. He estimated he'd painted about five substance abuse victims
so far that morning, and "I enjoy it." He got on the Drug-Free and Safe
Schools Council in the fifth grade and has been part of it ever since. "So
when do I actually die?" Chris McConnell asked McIntosh. "When I'm done
painting your face," was the reply.

"Can I die of a marijuana overdose?" McConnell said. "Whatever floats your
boat."

But it was late in the face-painting period, and all the marijuana signs
were gone. So McConnell had only a few categories to pick from. At the end
of the day, the students observed a moment of silence for the victims of
substance abuse. And then, finally, the 72 victims got the chance to talk,
ending a day of unusual silence for junior high kids.