My father Charles Levon Hoover passed away on April 20, 1989 at the age of 43. "POP," as I affectionately called him, was some kinda guy. With his magnetic personality he could draw attention from anyone. Blessed with a multitude of 'gifts,' he could carry on a conversation about anything. You name it and he knew something about it.

Pop was a great guy, but Pop was a drug and alcohol abuser. Those 'gifts' he was blessed with were tarnished. No matter how much he knew, he could not put them to good use. Yes, the question could be asked..."Why do people do drugs?" But, more importantly, the questions should be raised..."How can we help?" and "How can we put a stop to DRUGS?" I know it's a very delicate subject. One that cannot be easily talked about, especially with parents. I'll admit it was pretty hard for me, but I did it.

One cold January night, 1988, my wife and I were living with my father (my parents were divorced, when I was six years old) and his folks in a three room apartment in the Bronx. I remember my "Pop" asking me "What's wrong, baby?" "Baby" was the pet name used for everyone he loved.
"Nothin,' pop." But, he knowing me for the entire 22 years I existed on earth, didn't believe me, "You sure?" He said. "No...as a matter of fact, somethin' is wrong."
"What is it?" He took a seat across from me. We were at the kitchen table.
"Pop", I said with all due respect. "You're on drugs and I don't like it."
His look was one of surprise and shock. "What you say Jerald?"
"You're on drugs."
"Jerald, you don't know what you're talkin'..."
"I do, Pop". I had to interrupt him. "Because I know who got you into it and when you started on it."
He felt cornered. But, unlike a squirrel that would go for your throat when cornered, my father ever so humbly admitted, "You're right, son." Water began to fill his eyes.
"You need help."
"Yeah, baby, I really have been tryin' to stop this junk but..."
"I know how it is." I didn't know from experience how it was, but I figured he was having a rough time.

We talked awhile, cried and hugged. He told me that he would go along with the help if I would make arrangements. I did make the arrangements, but he didn't hold to his end of the bargain.
By this time, (February 1988) when I refused to call him as often, my wife and I had moved to upstate New York. Needless to say, I was very hurt and disappointed. I was never really ashamed of him (couldn't bring myself to do that), but not exactly proud either. My father continued to become physically ill, going in and out of the hospital for one reason or another.
But one day while lying in his hospital bed, something came over him. He said to a close friend of his, "You know, God has really been GOOD to me." My father realized all this while taking medication for yet another illness.
"I feel like I'm at PEACE with God," my dad said, his voice filled with emotion. "Man, I don't want to be like this."

"You can make a change, Charles," his friend said.
"Yeah, I know. And before I take that stuff again, I'd rather God take my life." As soon as I get out of this hospital, I am gonna get back in church."   My dad made a change! He reacquainted himself with what he loved dearly in church: playing his musical instrument. But due to the nature of his illness, he was unable to perform the way he would've liked. But that didn't stop him. He became a spiritual booster. Charles Levon Hoover bought himself a brand new reference Bible, a set of new shirts and ties, several pairs of shoes and a host of suits. He was always sharp as a `tack.'

Working in church and helping in areas that he really excelled in gave him great joy and satisfaction, so much so that he sought to expand his role there. What my dad aspired to do was to visit rehabilitation centers to teach the youth (using himself as a living example) about the dangers of drugs. He also wanted to go to the street corners to catch those who had not yet begun to experiment with drugs to encourage them "NOT TO DO IT!"
I'm proud of what my father wanted to do. He realized the life he lived was destroyed because of drug use and he wanted everyone else to realize that drugs are not the way to a healthy and productive life.

Pop, you may not have been Martin Luther King or George Washington Carver. But in my book, you're all right with me.

YOUNG PEOPLE
WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE
DON'T DO DRUGS!!!
STAY IN SCHOOL
LIVE AND BE SOMEBODY!

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