Haase: Alcohol murdered my son

Haase: Alcohol murdered my son by Cynthia L. Haase Editor's note: David J. Baier, a 19-year-old University of South Dakota student from Vermillion, died Jan. 30 of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. His mother, Cynthia Haase, Vermillion, wrote this essay shortly after his death as a way to cope with her loss.

Some call it suicide. I say it's murder. Who then murdered my son when the evidence depicts my son as pulling the trigger? Alcohol pulled the trigger, not my son.

Many of you are now thinking that I'm just another mother gone mad from the anguish of losing my son, but I tell you I am not living in denial. It is well past time for us to wake up. We can no longer close our eyes to the crimes being committed by the legalized liquid named alcohol.

Alcohol is a raging murderer lurking in the corners of our unconscious minds, like a demon from hell or the devil himself. Waiting for just the right time to brutally come forth and claim its next victim.

I have never seen the likes of such an unpredictable monster. I challenge each of you to search your own hearts and honestly tell me what good has ever come from alcohol.

I challenge you to go beyond the first few drinks, which stimulate you, and you believe you start to feel good. No, I want you take a good look at your behavior and your thought process if you still have one after drinking six or seven beers or a great deal more.

Tell me you are still okay, and if you are lucky enough to sober up I'll be honest and call you a liar or a damn fool. Oh, you may get lucky and the demons may stay in the corners of your mind, but eventually you will run out of luck and the demons will gladly take control for you. I hope I don't have to see it, but I can tell you I cry for you every day of my life.

I pray for you, that the demons leave you alone in your so-called good times of drinking. However, I know in my heart it is only a matter of time before one of you drinks a little too much and the demons begin to play, sing, dance and take control of your mind.

Will you live through it? Will you win the battle of the demons? Will you be the lucky one that wakes in the morning with a simple but painful headache?

Will you just simply pass out and put an end to the devil's games for the night so you can be played with another time? Or will you be the devil's next murder victim?

You may ask yourselves how did this happen? What were the ingredients and what went wrong? I tell you it is no different than any other time you get together to have a good time.

The motive in this case was a Super Bowl party with the intent of friends gathering to have fun. The main ingredient was a keg of beer. Not that watery 3.2 crap that most of us drank when we were kids, but the real stuff that is advertised all over America.

Nice, expensive, impressive commercials promoting drinking of the best liquid demons on earth (which they so conveniently leave out).

Next comes a tuff with a girlfriend. Although it could have been a disagreement over any little unimportant subject such as who won the Super Bowl, or maybe someone didn't like the shirt you chose to wear that day. Nothing unusual so far.

Next thing you know the party is over, only this time it ends in horror. Your friend, your buddy, my son lies dead on his bedroom floor after putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

What went wrong, you say? I tell you there is only one answer to this question. Alcohol went wrong.

That's what is wrong with this picture. If you remove the alcohol, your friend, your buddy, my son, gets to live.

Alcohol murdered my son for without alcohol, the demons could never have played with his mind and heart. Alcohol left the door open for the evil to come in and brutally lie to my son about who and what he was.

You, who drink, you play a game of Russian Roulette. You've been very lucky; the bullet didn't get you yet. You win and get to have your life, this time.

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