Tomorrow marks three years that Pierce has been gone. I still can't grasp it fully. I still feel the mixed pain of that terrible Sunday morning. My father calling and telling me that a strange woman, who said that she was some Holly Wood's mother, had called at 7:00 AM raving about how my son John had collapsed and died of a drug overdose at the Marriott in Baton Rouge. She knew this because her daughter had held his head in the bathroom for several hours. We tried desparately to reach Johnny AND his brother, to see if this horrible woman's story was true. It just couldn't be, could it? At last, Johnny called. Obviously, he was alright. This made another possiblity come to mind. Could it have been Pierce? How could we find out? How could this be true? But it was. And the rest is despair and pain. Tomorrow marks the day that extinguished a bright light...
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