DRUG COUNSELOR KNOWS HIS SUBJECT PERSONALLY

Gary Leach was 11 when he first sniffed glue. Soon after, his older brother
told him that if he wanted to get high he should just smoke pot. Leach was
curious about drugs, and in his neighborhood it was the thing to do. He
quickly moved to LSD, barbiturates and speed.

"The whole time I was experimenting I had no intent of going on to any
other type of chemicals," said Leach, 44. "I still had that sense of not
wanting to destroy myself."

But by the time he was 13, his whole focus was on getting high. Then, at
14, he shot methamphetimine into his veins and got his junkie wings.

"When I began (injecting), I had to start stealing," he said. "I couldn't
maintain my usage on my allowance."

Leach dropped out of school and left home, sleeping at friends' houses when
their parents were vacationing. His father, a surgeon, kept all his
valuables under his bed so Leach couldn't get to them. He also kept a
criminal lawyer on retainer to deal with all of Leach's and his brothers'
court cases.

"This great American family just went to hell in a hand basket," Leach said.

One night he stumbled home and fell asleep on his bed, completely wasted.
He awoke to find his father crying on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know what to do," his father sobbed. "I love you to death. I know
you are going to die, but I don't know what to do."

The fun of getting high had disintegrated. Leach knew he needed help after
watching one friend die of an overdose and another lose his leg after a
drug-related accident.

When he was 18, Leach checked himself into the psychiatric ward of a
Houston hospital, where he met workers from the Palmer Drug Abuse Program.
They told him that no matter how far he had fallen, he could still come back.

"I just grabbed on," Leach said. "I knew if I didn't, I wasn't going to live."

On June 11, 1976, he gave up drugs and alcohol and began the difficult
adjustment to sobriety.

"I didn't know how to interact with people without being blitzed," he said.
"They taught me how to go out and have a good time without using chemicals."

Eventually, Leach said, close, meaningful relationships filled the space
that drugs used to occupy. His brother, who never fully embraced the
teachings of rehabilitation, died of a drug overdose when he was 43.

Leach is now the executive director of the Corpus Christi Palmer Drug Abuse
Program chapter and tries to teach young people and their parents the
lessons he never learned as a kid. His goal is to turn children around
before they become addicted.

As director for almost 20 years, he has seen parents and society in general
become more educated to the dangers of drug use, but no decline in the
number of young people who need help.

"When you start at an early age, it robs your soul, your emotional
development," he said. "Learning how to cope with life at the most critical
stages of development - from childhood to adulthood - is just messed up
because you put a bunch of drugs in there."