On Friday, December 2, at approximately 11:15 a.m., he inserted a delicate needle between his toes to deliver the immediate ecstasy and relief of heroin — the escape to a pleasant place, to run away from the nothingness of life, the fulfillment of a habit. The drug coursed through his veins, expanded a feeling of health and thoughts … then killed him. Dead. Bits of criminal fentanyl were unknowingly mixed in. A killer.

Chad was 48 years old, a human valuable to so many but for him a torn story.

Yet for the rest of us, beyond his lifetime of fighting addictions, Chad was charismatic, smart, a learner, a teacher, a hiker, skilled in mechanics, commercial fisherman, a builder, a cook, a farmer, an organizer, and he made other people feel welcome and whole. He was an avid reader and earth politics follower. His sense of humor was an unbounded reaction to this crazy world, telling wild stories to make you gasp or laugh. And if you were to walk with him around Humboldt you would have been introduced to his diverse friend circle of the homeless, storekeepers, his fellow NA members, fellow workers, social chums, Highway 36 friends — people of all classes, races and livelihoods.

They would all know his name. Know what a remarkable human he was in his generosity, his gentleness, his kindness, his spirit, his acceptance of others and his effort to better the world. He rests now from his fight with himself and his addictions; he is comfortable finally and not alone anymore. He leaves behind his loving mother, Kate McCay and her life partner Lyn Javier of Larabee Valley, and his aunts, uncles and cousins. A memorial will be held in the hills. TBA.

(This obituary is another of the many true stories of OD from drug/Fentanyl use happening over and over - to children, relatives and friends; in our homes, on our streets - with no end. — kmc)