Thomas came home from working at Kohl’s department store at 9:10 pm on Saturday, May 1, 2021. Elin and I chatted with him about how things went at work and how he was doing in general, and then he went to his room. That was the last time we saw our son alive. Thomas went to his room and took what he thought was a prescription Xanax pill that he bought on Snap Chat for fifteen dollars. He was trying to relax, calm his stress, anxiety and play some video games after work. About 9:30 PM he ordered some food from Door Dash, but he never lived to eat it. The Xanax that he took was a counterfeit pill and that one pill killed him.

I went to get Thomas at about 9:55 AM on Sunday, May 2, 2021, because the on-line church service at PCLG was about to start. I knocked on his door. There was no answer. I thought he was still sleeping, so I knocked again – louder. When he didn’t respond, I opened the door, saw him lying in bed, and called his name, “Thomas…”. He didn’t respond. I called him again, but louder and he still didn’t respond. I stepped back into the hallway, as Elin walked towards me. “El — he’s not responding,” I said, still not comprehending what was happening.

She walked directly into Thomas’ room, touched his arm, and said, “Mark, he’s cold...” I stepped towards his bed, felt his arm, and with an uncomprehending sense of shock said, “He’s dead, El...” Elin started sobbing, thrashing her arms up-and-down, and screamed, “No. It can’t be. It just can’t be. Someone needs to fix this. Someone needs to fix this....” I was in shock. I was speechless. After a few seconds of confused silence, I managed to utter, “I’ll call 911...” 

Four days later, the police sergeant who was heading-up the investigation into Thomas’ death called and said they’d arrested the person who sold Thomas the pill that killed him. The preliminary toxicology report indicated that Thomas was poisoned by a counterfeit Xanax pill that contained three-times the lethal dose of fentanyl. Our language shapes our reality. So, it’s important to be perfectly clear about what happened to Thomas. He was deceived by a counterfeit prescription medication. Thomas did not “overdose.” He was poisoned.

With an estimated 250 million counterfeit pills in circulation in the United States, thousands of unsuspecting victims like Thomas are poisoned each year by this dark crime. As the September 2020 Drug Enforcement Agency Intelligence Report details, thousands of young people between the ages of 13 and 24 are being deceived and murdered for financial gain by two criminal drug networks in Mexico (the Sinaloa Cartel and the Jalisco New Generation Cartel), and for global political-ideological power and control by communist China, the main supplier of fentanyl precursors to these cartels.

Elin and I fully support the organizations listed below that are committed to fighting this dark crime in different ways.

Song for Charlie

Charlie Ternan was three weeks away from graduating with a degree in economics from Santa Clara University. Charlie took what he thought was a prescription Percocet pill (that he bought on Snap Chat) to relax and play some video games, but it was a counterfeit pill made of fentanyl and that one pill killed him.

Song for Charlie (SFC) is a national family-run, nonprofit charity dedicated to raising awareness about ‘fentapills’ — fake pills made of fentanyl. Song for Charlie partners with experts, educators, parents, and other influencers to reach the most vulnerable group: young people between the ages 13-24. SFC’s programs highlight the emerging dangers of self-medication and casual drug use in the fentanyl era and encourage healthier strategies for coping with stress. They empower students to learn and share knowledge by providing research-based tools and promoting peer-to-peer learning programs.

To learn more about the dangers of the recreational use of prescription drugs and self-medication in an age of counterfeit pills and fentanyl poisonings, click the link below, go to the “About Us” pull-down, and read “Charlie’s Story.”

https://www.songforcharlie.org

Families Against Fentanyl

The U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) estimates that a lethal dose of fentanyl is only 2 mg – the size of a few grains of salt. The DEA already considers fentanyl to be a chemical weapon. The amount of fentanyl seized by U.S. and Mexican authorities in 2019 could have killed 3.5 times the entire population of the U.S. Declaring fentanyl a Weapon of Mass Destruction (WMD) would give federal agencies new ways to help stem the flow of this deadly chemical into our country. To learn more about the efforts to have fentanyl declared a weapon of mass destruction, click the link below.

https://www.familiesagainstfentanyl.org

Drug Induced Homicide

There are an estimated 250 million counterfeit prescription pills in circulation in the United States, many of which contain a lethal dose of fentanyl. A September 2020 Drug Enforcement Agency Intelligence Report describes how thousands of young people between the ages of 13 and 24 have been deceived and murdered by taking just one of these counterfeit pills, and that one pill killed them. The sources of this dark crime are: a) two criminal drug networks in Mexico (the Sinaloa Cartel and the Jalisco New Generation Cartel) that generate millions of dollars of revenue, and b) communist China, the main supplier of fentanyl precursors to these cartels, who is seeking global political-ideological power and control over the U.S.

Drug dealers in the U.S, subsequently sell these counterfeit pills for financial gain with absolute disregard for human life, knowing that many of them contain lethal doses of fentanyl and that one pill can kill. Currently, only about one percent of all drug deaths result in the conviction of a drug dealer. Drug Induced Homicide is committed to ensuring that drug dealers are held accountable for the deaths they cause, by prosecuting these cases as homicides, not just possession and transportation felonies.

The current lack of appropriate homicide-related felony charges allows drug dealers to get away with murder. California Senate Bill 44 (Alexandra’s Law) is an example of trying to implement a state-wide admonishment in California, that informs drug dealers of the dangers of selling counterfeit pills. With a state-wide admonishment in place, a drug dealer who sells counterfeit pills to another person who subsequently dies can be tried for homicide. To learn more about the efforts of Drug Induced Homicide, click the link below.

https://druginducedhomicide.org

Thomas Dimension

The Thomas Dimension is a non-profit Donor Advised Fund started by Mark Bodnarczuk and Elin Larson to honor the memory of their son, Thomas. The Thomas Dimension is committed to: a) keeping Thomas Larson Bodnarczuk’s memory alive, b) warning others about the dangers of self-medication and the recreational use of drugs in an age of counterfeit pills and fentanyl poisonings, c) teaching people how to walk with God through times of pain, grief, suffering, and loss, with the goal of becoming wounded healers who can help others, and d) using forgiveness as a catalyst for inner healing, transformation, and personal and spiritual growth. For more information on the Thomas Dimension, see www.thomasdimension.org.

The complete story of Thomas’ life and death is described in Mark Bodnarczuk’s forthcoming memoir entitled, Finding New Life After the Death of My Son, available worldwide on websites like www.amazon.com.

                                         Copyright © 2023, Mark Bodnarczuk, All Rights Reserved

In the early days after Thomas died, I refused to see anyone. I walled everyone out, except for my pastor. Pastor Keith was the first person I agreed to meet with on May 26, 2021, just three weeks and three days after Thomas died. I was a wreck. I was angry. I was devastated. I was not in my right mind. As we sat down at Starbuck’s with our coffee, I tried to warn him, “Keith, if you don’t like the “F-word” you’re probably not gonna like this conversation…” He looked at me with compassion, empathy, and love, and he assured me that was just fine with him. And I knew it would be because Keith is a good man and a good friend.

The trauma of finding Thomas dead in his room threw Elin and me into a daze – a psychological and emotional fog, where all that we could manage on a day-to-day basis was to put one foot in front of the other. When the paperwork came from our health insurance company, the diagnosis that Elin’s Ph.D. grief-psychologist had submitted for the claim was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I wondered if I would survive the death of my son. It was twenty-five weeks and one day after that tragic event when I finally had a very faint inner inkling that I had made it – made it to the other side of some inner milestone that I understood tacitly but could not yet articulate. Looking back from today, thirty-eight weeks and six days out, I know that the inner line that I crossed that day was the first realization that I really had survived Thomas’ death.

The second person that I agreed to meet with was my friend, Greg. We had dinner at a little Mexican restaurant near my house just eight weeks and three days after Thomas died. I cried a lot. I unloaded my deep anguish about this unspeakable loss. He could see my pain and desperation. I recounted how I’d talked to the police sergeant in charge of investigating Thomas’ death. He told me that they had arrested the guy who sold Thomas the counterfeit Xanax pill on Snap Chat, and they’d booked him into the county jail. I told Greg how thoughtful and compassionate the police sergeant was. But I also lamented how slow, bureaucratic, and dysfunctional the legal process seemed, despite this officer’s help – put good people, in bad systems, you get bad performance.

Greg looked at me, paused, and then asked, “Have you ever thought about taking things into your own hands?” I was taken aback – a little shocked that he would say such a thing. Until that moment, the thought had never crossed my mind, so I told him honestly, “No, I haven’t.” But his question struck an inner chord that continued to resonate within me long after that night.

The District Attorney (DA) who was assigned to prosecute Thomas’ case contacted me three days later. We met on Zoom. He described the case, the steps of the legal process, his strategy for prosecuting the case, and he explained the five felony counts that the defendant would be charged with. I told him that I wanted him prosecuted to the full extent of the law. I could tell that he was managing my expectations when he explained how the person would likely not go to jail for long, or maybe not at all, depending on how the case went. He also said that he would be handing the case over to one of his most competent Deputy DAs because he was about to be appointed as a judge in a California city north of where we lived.

Both DAs attended Thomas’ memorial service at LCLG on October 2, 2021. We talked at the repast after the service. They said that the guy had gotten out of jail on bail within a day of being arrested, and they would contact me with more details about his re-arrest. I thought to myself, So, the guy who killed my son had been out and about, free, for the last five months. Thirteen days later, on October 15, 2021, James, the DA who would be handling our case emailed me saying that the judge signed a warrant for the defendant’s re-arrest, and that he would be arraigned on the five felony charges.

In addition, James said, “I would like to take some time to sit down with you and your wife and talk. Not just about business but to give you an opportunity to get to know me. We can also take the time to talk about the case, my thoughts on how I would like to proceed, and I will answer any questions you might have.” He came to our house on October 21, 2021. He had heard a lot about Thomas and about us at the memorial service, so we sat in our dining room for about ninety minutes and learned about him. He described his personal and professional background (i.e., who he was as a person), his strategy for prosecuting the case, and several scenarios of what might happen with the case, as well as what we could, and could not, expect in terms of outcomes, within the bounds of the precedents in the law.

The next step would be to issue the warrant for the defendant’s re-arrest and then schedule a court date for an arraignment. He explained that an arraignment was the first time the defendant would be formally charged for the crimes. James said that Elin and I could attend the arraignment, but we would not be allowed to speak. I told him that I wanted to be present in-person at every court appearance to confront this guy and to let the judge know that Thomas’ death was not just a number-name on a court docket. Rather, this case was about the ending of a human life, the life of my only son. James said that many victims and their families do not attend these court dates, and he wished that more did. I told him I wouldn’t miss one for the world, and I meant it.

Before he left our house, I asked him why the legal process was moving so slowly and why they hadn’t already re-arrested this guy. It had been five months since Thomas died. What were they waiting for? He explained that there had been some type of mix-up between the sergeant investigating Thomas’ case and the lieutenant who he reported to, but that confusion had been cleared up. I told him that I wanted this person re-arrested as soon as possible, and again, I insisted that James prosecute him to the full extent of the law. He agreed but also said that the bar for successfully prosecuting this type of crime had been raised very high by a recent decision made by the California Supreme Court. I listened patiently as he spoke, but I sensed in my heart that he was managing my expectations and explaining how the consequences that the defendant would likely receive would be incommensurate with the enormous loss of Thomas’ life.

That night, James emailed me a copy of the charges against the guy who sold Thomas the counterfeit Xanax pill that killed him, so I knew the person’s name, age, and physical address. I’ll call him Jon, rather than use his real name. I googled his name. I googled his address and learned that he lived just a few miles away. As I looked at the street view of his house on Google Maps, and reflected on the minimal consequences that he would likely receive, Greg’s words floated back into my mind.

On November 3, 2021, James sent me an email saying that the detective assigned to locating the defendant went to his address, and he was no longer living there, which he added, was not uncommon. I heard nothing more for twenty-seven days, and then James emailed me with an update that said, “The defendant turned himself in on the warrant on November 23, 2021, and immediately bailed out. He turned himself into the Sherriff’s Department. This is a process that’s independent of my office. The judge on duty ordered bail set for $25,000. There is currently an arraignment date set for January 25, 2022, at the Santa Clara County Hall of Justice.”

So, we went through our first Christmas without Thomas, with the arraignment to look forward to in the new year. I tried to put it out of my mind, because January seemed like a long way off. I emailed James on January 5, 2022, and asked if there were any updates or information about the day and time of the arraignment. He said the case was still set for January 25, 2022, at 1:35 PM in the Santa Clara County Superior Court. “Call me if you would like to discuss what was likely to happen at the arraignment,” he offered.

I emailed James again on January 6, 2022, and asked him if he had any other details on the case and some of the tougher prosecution options we had discussed. He responded, again, trying to manage my expectations about what would happen, “I think at the arraignment the defendant will be released. The current court’s position on detention is if the charge or the current case does not pose a substantial risk to the community, detention and/or bail is not appropriate. This is an announced shift from the way things were several months ago. This is a change from what we have previously talked about on this issue.” I responded to his email quickly, “This grieves me to the depths of my soul… It makes the unspeakable loss of my son, Thomas, seem meaningless and without consequence….” Within minutes, my in-box lit up with his response, “I knew it would not be easy to hear. But I want to be honest and forthright with you at every turn. I am doing the best I can with the tools I have to make Thomas’ death not meaningless and without consequence. Please, if you need or want to talk about it, we can set up a time.” Once again, Greg’s words floated into my mind.

On January 13, 2022, James emailed me again, “I wanted to let you know the Courthouse is limiting in-person attendance of hearings to necessary parties only.  They will allow victims and victim’s families to attend, but I need to get an order signed by the presiding judge.  Anyone can still attend virtually on the Internet with Microsoft Teams. These restrictions are in place until January 31, 2022, due to the high number of confirmed COVID cases in the jail and the courthouse. If you want to attend the arraignment on the twenty-fifth in-person let me know and I can get the order signed. My suggestion: the arraignment courtroom is in the basement, it has no windows or natural sunlight, and air circulation is poor. I personally did not like going in there any time of the year. Please let me know if you want to attend in-person and I can take the necessary steps.” James continued to play down the advantages of attending in-person when we talked on the phone. He said that he would be out of town, and one of the other DAs would cover the court date but James’ replacement would be there remotely, on the Internet using Microsoft Teams. He also said that the defendant’s attorney might not be there in-person and might attend virtually on Microsoft Teams. “Given the COVID restrictions,” James concluded, “even the defendant might not be there in-person. He might be represented by his attorney.”

I decided that even if the judge, Elin, and I were the only people in the courtroom, that I was going to be there in-person for the sake of my son Thomas. I told James that Elin and I would attend in-person, and he asked me to write a few sentences for the judge explaining why we wanted to attend. I sent him the following explanation, “Thomas Larson Bodnarczuk was our only child, and he died because of a counterfeit Xanax pill that was sold to him on Snap Chat by the accused. We are older parents and will never have another child. With Thomas’ death, we have no heir and no one to carry on our legacy in life. It is important for us to see first-hand that the judicial process in Santa Clara County will treat this matter appropriately. We need to see for ourselves that there will be consequences for what happened, and that our son’s life and death have meaning. So, attending in-person is very important to us.” Later that day, James emailed me the Court Order signed by the judge and told us to show it to the guards who would screen us through the metal detectors as we entered the building.

I took the day of the arraignment off from work. Elin decided to work until it was time to go. The day before, Elin told me, “When I’m not deeply involved in my work as a distraction,” she said, “I’ve got a knot in my stomach and an aching in my heart.” She also asked, “Are you going to bring a book with you in case we have to wait a long time?” I brought, The Unspeakable Loss: How Do You Live after a Child Dies, by Nisha Zenoff (see the picture at the beginning of the post).

We got to the courthouse early on January 25, 2022, not knowing what to expect. Many of the people in the waiting area outside the courtroom looked like tough characters, and each courtroom had a Santa Clara County Deputy Sheriff who was heavily armed in case there was trouble. There were twenty to twenty-five people in the waiting area, but it was quiet. Most people tried not to make eye contact. I tried not to make eye contact. Elin whispered to me, “They just let these people walk in here…” I said, “Well, some of them are probably convicted felons, but they’re out on bail.” I was dressed in the same clothes that I wore for both of Thomas’ memorial services, including the red and blue striped tie that belonged to my son – the one he was wearing when he made a public profession of his faith at Faith Presbyterian Church, in Boulder Colorado, on March 3, 2013. I wore it in memory of Thomas’ short, but impactful life. Other than the attorneys who were representing the defendants in the waiting area, I was the only person wearing a tie.

Elin and I sat at the ends of two benches that met at a ninety-degree angle, waiting to be called into the courtroom. There was a guy sitting to Elin’s left at the end of her bench, about four feet away. I was directly facing him, but I tried not to make eye contact. He was about six-foot two-inches tall, had on a white shirt, no belt, tight jeans. He was younger than most of the other people who were waiting there. He glanced at his phone nervously. He looked stressed. He buried his face in his hands for a few seconds, and then looked back at his phone. Elin had a sense that this was the guy who killed Thomas. She turned toward him slightly, trying to get a better look without being too obvious. She thought to herself, I’ll bet that’s him. As the time drew near, we got up and stood outside the courtroom and waited for the Sheriff’s Deputy to unlock the door and to tell us to enter.

We sat down in the second row of the courtroom. There was a large (ninety-five-inch) TV screen to our left that was connected to the Internet and Microsoft Teams. There was a man on the screen, and I wondered if he was the DA who would be handling our case. He saw us enter the courtroom, and once we were seated, he said, “Are Mark and Elin in the courtroom?” I responded, “Yes, we’re Mark and Elin.” He introduced himself as the DA who would be covering the case today and said he would debrief James on today’s outcome. He continued, “If you have any questions, just call me,” then he asked me to write down his phone number.

The people who had been in the waiting area outside were now seated or standing at various places in the courtroom. The guy with the white shirt from the end of Elin’s bench sat behind us and to our right. There was a well-dressed young woman standing near the door into the courtroom. She was a public defender who was conferring with various defendants about their case. Prior to the judge arriving, she called out their names loudly, then said, “please come talk to me.”

Elin turned toward the back of the room when she was talking to the guy with the white shirt. Elin looked at the guy, looked back at me and whispered, “I think that’s him… I thought that might be him when we were sitting out in the waiting area.” Once the judge entered the courtroom, we sat there as three or four defendants were called to the stand to have the charges against them read, with their attorney going back-and-forth with the judge. When this dialogue was complete, the Court Clerk would announce the day, time, and location of the follow-up court date.

The public defender turned and looked at the guy in the white shirt as if to say are you ready? As he walked towards the stand, the Court Clerk called out his name, Jon, so we knew for sure from the papers James had sent me that it was him. Tears began to flow from Elin’s eyes. She was visibly, yet quietly, distressed to the point where the Sheriff’s Deputy standing twenty-feet away took note, walked over, and handed Elin a box of Kleenex – she knew what was going on.

We heard the charges against him read aloud, and so did everyone else in the courtroom. After the back-and-forth between the public defender and the judge was finished, the Court Clerk called out a date, time, and location for the follow-up part of the trial, and asked the defendant if that day and time worked for him. He said yes, and then the public defender began to move on, as Elin sobbed and held my hand tightly. From the ninety-five-inch screen, the DA interrupted loudly and said, “Your honor, the victim’s parents are here in the courtroom, and I want to make sure that the date and time works for them.” The courtroom got quiet. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Then, I spoke-up boldly saying, “Yes – your honor. That will work for us.”

All eyes were focused on Elin and me. We were sitting fifteen-feet away from the guy who killed our son. He had his back toward us, but now the guy knew who we were too, so the circle was complete. Elin continued to cry as the judge read the final orders. Then the guy in the white shirt turned, and slowly walked towards the door that led out of the courtroom – his head down, looking straight at the floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially us.

Elin was shaken-up. I whispered to her, “Let’s wait a few minutes until he leaves the building, and then we’ll leave.” We sat there in a mental fog – blown away by what was happening. After about five minutes, I said, “Okay – let’s go.” It was uncomfortable sitting there, and it was uncomfortable leaving. The unspeakable loss of our son, Thomas, had been a relatively private thing, shared only with family and friends in his services and on his memorial site. Now, his death had become a very public thing, in a room full of strangers we didn’t know, in a public court of law.

We walked through the door out of the courtroom and into the waiting area. We turned to the right, and the guy with the white shirt was standing against the wall, waiting for us. This was not what we expected. He looked up at me. I locked eyes with his and stared directly and intently down into his soul. We began to walk past him slowly. I thought to myself, You’re the guy who killed Thomas, as I took another step and continued to stare him down.

Just as Elin and I were about to pass him, he stepped towards us and said, "I'm so sorry..." and he began to cry. “I had no idea...” I stopped. I turned towards him in silence as he continued to cry and waited for my response. I looked at him and said, "I'm Thomas' father, Mark, and this is Thomas' mother, Elin,” as Elin moved closer and stood by my side, still crying. He went on, “I haven't been able to sleep since it happened,” and he started crying harder. “I'd do anything to take it back – to do it over... I'm so, so sorry for the heartache I caused you.”

That was a Kairos moment of truth for me. I had known for some time that hating this young man, and seeking revenge, would not bring Thomas back. He had a lot of courage and integrity to wait for us. I took a step toward him and reached out my right hand to shake his. He took my hand in his, wrapped his left arm around my shoulder and back, clutched the fabric of my sport jack tightly, pulled me toward him, and sobbed into my neck. By this time, I was crying too. I said to him, “Jon – that was my only son – my only child.”

“I had no idea that the pills could be fentanyl, that's not what I was told. I haven’t touched that stuff since. I know I can never make things right, but I’m so sorry. I’d do anything to make it up to you.” And then I felt the words flow from the bottom of my heart as we continued to hug and weep, "I forgive you... I forgive you... being angry and vengeful will not bring Thomas back..." Then Elin reached out, hugged him, and said, "I forgive you too..." We walked towards the elevator together and then stopped. As he continued to cry, he pulled out his phone, and said, "Give me your phone number," and he sent me a text. “If there’s ever anything that I can ever do for you, just tell me and I will.” As we parted, Elin said, "God bless you," and Jon responded, "God bless you too."

What a tragedy it was to lose our son, and what a tragedy it is for this young man to have done something unintentionally, that he’ll regret for the rest of his life. As Elin and I walked back to our car, we shook our heads in amazement at what had just happened to us. We felt a deep sense of peace, contentment, and God’s presence, knowing that we did the right thing. Later, Elin said to me, “Mark, you took leadership in doing a most difficult, and Christian act of forgiving this young man. I hope he can recover and straighten out his life.”

I called James that night and told him what had happened. He said that he was glad that there had been some resolution between us, and he added that the defendant had been remorseful about what had happened to Thomas from the very beginning – something we had already knew from the police sergeant in charge of investigating Thomas’ death. James also said he would call the defendant’s attorney and let her know what happened. “Don’t respond to his text,” he advised, “or have any contact with him until the trial and sentencing are complete,” something Elin and I had already decided.

It was a life-changing experience for Elin and me. It was something we never – in a million years – expected. Since that time, I’ve reflected on what happened, and I have asked the Lord to show me what, if anything, He would have me do next. In any case, Jon will remain in my thoughts and prayers going forward.

…………………………………………………………………….

The complete story of Thomas’ life and death is described in Mark Bodnarczuk’s forthcoming memoir entitled, Finding New Life After the Death of My Son, available worldwide on websites like www.amazon.com.

Thomas Dimension

The Thomas Dimension is a non-profit Donor Advised Fund started by Mark Bodnarczuk and Elin Larson to honor the memory of their son, Thomas. The Thomas Dimension is committed to: a) keeping Thomas Larson Bodnarczuk’s memory alive, b) warning others about the dangers of self-medication and the recreational use of drugs in an age of counterfeit pills and fentanyl poisonings, c) teaching people how to walk with God through times of pain, grief, suffering, and loss, with the goal of becoming wounded healers who can help others, and d) using forgiveness as a catalyst for inner healing, transformation, and personal and spiritual growth. For more information on the Thomas Dimension, see www.thomasdimension.org.

Copyright © 2023, Mark Bodnarczuk, All Rights Reserved

The link below is to an interview that I just did on the Beached White Male Podcast, hosted by Ken Kemp. I’m trying to get the word out – to warn other parents and young people about the dangers of the recreational use of prescription medications in the age of counterfeit pills and fentanyl poisoning.

https://thebeachedwhitemale.com/mark-bodnarczuk/

Many people have heard about the fentanyl crisis, and the many thousands of young people who have been the innocent victims of this dark crime, but they don’t know anyone who this has happened to. That’s why I’m sharing Thomas’ story. Please listen to the Podcast and tell everyone you can that one pill can kill.