Pubdate: Fri, 07 Jan 2005 Source: Eagle-Tribune, The (MA) Copyright: 2005 The Eagle-Tribune Contact: http://www.eagletribune.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/129 Author: Sean Corcoran Related Articles Index: FACES OF AN EPIDEMIC: IN AFFLUENT TOWN, A SON DIES, AND A FATHER GRIEVES MARBLEHEAD - Robert Bradley sent his son to the best schools, went to his soccer games, and bought his family a $1.4 million house on Marblehead Neck with a basketball hoop in the driveway. In the end, it didn't matter. Bradley watched his son lose weight, lose friends and lose interest in everything that ever excited him. St. John's Prep couldn't save him, and neither could drug testing, counselors, nor an Outward Bound retreat to the woods of Maryland. Bradley's son Robert died of a drug overdose. He was 18. Now Bradley can't stop looking back, wondering what else he might have done to save his son. On Tuesday, Oct. 21, 2003, Robert overdosed on an opiate-based prescription drug, most likely OxyContin. His girlfriend told police the two had gone to a movie and then parked her car outside her stepsister's house at about 12:30 a.m. and fell asleep. She could not wake him in the morning. "His heart just stopped, stopped beating, and he just drifted off," Bradley said. In the weeks before his death, Bradley said, Robert was sickly and thin. The coordination that gave him an edge on the soccer field was gone, and he rebuffed his parents when they tried to talk to him. The Saturday before he died was especially bad. Robert told his parents he was dropping out of Marblehead High School, where he had transferred from St. John's Prep, and heading to Florida with his girlfriend. He broke windows in the house and on his mother's car. He tried to steal his mom's ATM card. Bradley and his wife told him he wasn't welcome back home for a while. "When I last saw him alive, he was in a bad place," Bradley said. "And we were in a bad place as parents." Bradley said both he and his wife knew their son used drugs. When Robert was 12, they transferred him out of Marblehead Middle School because he was caught drinking and trying drugs. When he was about 16, Robert asked his parents if he could work for a group lobbying to legalize marijuana. They said no. On his bedroom walls were posters of marijuana plants. Bradley suspected Robert was "a major seller of drugs in Marblehead" during the summer before his junior year. "It's just that he had a lot of cash. And it wasn't from working a regular job." Bradley didn't approve, but his son told him that if he didn't sell drugs, someone else would. "We had discussions about that, some very serious discussions about that," said Bradley, a 55-year-old attorney. "I essentially said to Robert and his mother that if I became aware of the fact he was still selling drugs, I would ask him to leave the community." That same month, Bradley sent Robert to an Outward Bound program in Maryland. He didn't graduate. A day before the trip ended, counselors caught Robert with marijuana. The Bradleys knew about marijuana, but the drug they knew little about was OxyContin. "I think I am like a lot of parents," Bradley said. "I think if you suspect your son or daughter has been taking some drugs, you are thinking, 'Well, maybe they went out to a beach and had a few beers with some friends, and maybe they had a joint of marijuana.' I think that is what most people default to." Bradley gave the eulogy at Robert's funeral, and much of Marblehead High School was there. He did not know at the time if Robert had died of an overdose. But he suspected it, and the coroner's report later confirmed it. "In theory, Robert had the ideal life. He had a lovely home to live in, you know," he said. "But sometimes I think maybe we all should have gone to Montana and lived in the mountains, done the home schooling and everything else." With his younger son gone, Bradley spends private moments each day fantasizing about trips in time machines, and wishing he could be like actor Bill Murray in the movie "Groundhog Day," where he wakes up to the same 24 hours over and over again, until he finally gets everything perfect. "If I could turn the time clock, I would go back. I think it would have been helpful to my son to do things differently, and possibly he might be still alive today. I would like to have that chance, but I don't." - --- MAP posted-by: Elizabeth Wehrman