Krista at work.... Last picture August 1988

Krista

The story begins on a cool August night in 1987. A knock at the door.... "Are you Mrs. White?" a uniformed police officer says. The words after that are still echoing in my mind. "Your daughter has been taken to the emergency room. We broke up a party in an abandoned house and found her." Found her? She wasn't lost.... she was out with her friends and wasn't to be home for another hour or so. She was laying on the floor in a corner of the room. She had passed out from drinking and was lying in her own vomit. Her "friends" had all run off and left her there alone. The officers didn't know who she was at first. One of the other officers had caught another "child", who then told them who Krista was. We rushed to the hospital, to find Krista in a coma brought on by drinking. She had consumed enough booze to kill herself if she had not gotten sick. She was just 16 years old, my God! She was still my baby! How could this happen? Where did they get that much to drink? Where were her friends that were suppose to be there for her? Isn't that what "friends" are for? Aren't they suppose to watch out for you? Krista came out of the coma early the next morning. Only by the grace of God. Anger was her defense when the questions were asked of her. Screaming and yelling.... then the threat. If we didn't leave her alone when she got home.... she'd kill herself! I left the room in tears. I knew she meant it, because it would not have been the first time she had tried it.

That's when we decided we couldn't handle this problem on our own. We had to turn to someone before things got any worse. Got any worse? How much worse can things be when you have a 16 year old daughter drinking herself into a coma and threatening suicide? We asked for help from our family doctor and Krista was sent directly to Kingwood Hospital in Michigan City. She remained there for almost 3 months. I didn't think things were going to turn around for quite some time, but with a lot of hard work from Krista, the staff, the kids at Kingwood, Russ and I, Krista came home a different girl. She smiled a lot more, uncovered the eyes that were hidden behind hair that constantly hung in her face and carried herself with confidence and dignity. She battled royale to stay straight. The following poem is one that she wrote while she was admitted to Kingwood. It tells of her anger and of finding herself again.

KINGWOOD HOSPITALITY BLUES

I came here and I was all alone. I was wishing I was going home. To say, "why am I here?" or "just don't you care?" I didn't need to be in this place. There are problems here I cannot face. I know I am scared, I'm all full of fear of my life. I feel they should have let me die, cause all I can do now is cry. Well, all I can say today, I have to stay here and pray. And for now I got the Kingwood Hospitality Blues.

I still have the Kingwood Hospitality Blues, and I don't know what to do. Don't get me wrong, It's not the same old song. I can admit it that I was an addict of drugs and alcohol, and that I had problems that I could not face, and now it's turning out for the best. I'll never be cured, because that is the word of all addicts. But I'll do my best to stay sober no matter what it takes. I'm leaving soon from here, in a way I really don't want to..... I swear! I'll miss this place and everyone's face. That's why I have the Kingwood Hospitality Blues.

Krista fought a good battle for about a year. She dropped out of high school after her 17th birthday. When she had returned to school she was called to the office several times and questioned about other kids that might be using drugs too. The unfairness of the school system, using the knowledge that Krista had been to rehab, now wanting her to tell on old friends. Friends she was trying to leave behind and develope new friends. She was caught in the middle..... old friends afraid of what she knew and the "better" kids not wanting anything to do with her because she had a reputation with drugs and drinking. So she quit school and got herself a job down the street at the restaurant. She was night waitress and the only one to take care of the place from 3-midnight. She earned the respect of all the regular customers. The ones that had seen her hanging out there before she went to rehab. They complimented her on the change that had taken place. And she thrived on it. She returned to school the next year determined to finish. But something happened along the way..... the following letter tells the story.

How's it going? I hope a little better. I know this is strange to be getting a letter from me but you are, so sit down and listen to what I have to say. I know how much confusion you are going through wether you want to admit it or not and now especially since the fight. Maybe you think what's the use, why does this have to happen to me, why am I here and a lot of other things like that. I know, I've been there. At first I thought I had everything in the world I could ask for, then I thought, hey, I can handle anything even drugs..... so I started using, then problems seemed to get a lot bigger then what they were. So then I started using like I was before. Then it got even worse, I started using coke. Don't ever think it can't get any worse cause now I know better. I'm falling back into my old trap. You don't need the same shit as before, I guarantee that. I remember how I felt at the rehab, thinking that I was so safe and everyone cares, but when you got out you lost that feeling, but you really don't have to lose that security cause I guarantee if you need anything or want to talk, I don't care what about, just if you need someones shoulder to lean on.... I'll be there. Call day or night.... if you want to. Like I said I won't pressure you. Love your friend, Krista PS. Maybe some day I'll tell you, I mean show you, a poem about the rehab I was at. But also never forget, sometimes you have to take things... day by day, minute by minute, and second by second to keep your sobriety. Don't ever forget I do care.

This letter was written to a friend who had just recently got out of a rehab and Krista was worrying about the struggle that was ahead of him. The letter was found in her purse. Krista didn't get to deliver it. She died on September 21, 1988 before she could give it to him. It makes the words written here erie and ring even more true about the battle against drugs and alcohol. Krista's last moments on this earth were ones of confusion and desperation. The doctors and nurses fought for 5 hours to save her life. She died 3 times in those last hours. At the funeral there were hundreds of kids, teachers, and friends. Yet while she was alive she thought she was all alone. Her life was short but she made her mark on the lives of many people. It's been 12 years now since she left this world and yet some days it seems like yesterday. Sometimes I still wait for her to come down the stairs with sleep still in her eyes. Sometimes I think she'll walk in the front door from work smelling like a french fry. All the time I remember and cry. I cry for time I have lived without her and smile for the time she was here. One thing more, the most important thing. One month before Krista died she call a Christian TV program in Canada, "100 Huntly Street". She was in the thros of her new battle and wanted to know that God would not forsake her. She had the phone counselor pray with her. I found the phone number on our phone bill right after Krista died. I was able to talk to the person who talked to her and with that gained peace of mind. Knowing Krista was battling, not just giving in to the drugs again, knowing Krista had not turned her back on her faith, knowing Krista would be in heaven with her Lord. I thank God for the gift of this child. I thank God for the lessons she taught me. I thank God for the chance to share her with the world.