Creative, musician, loved life
The oldest of three boys, Harrison always watched out for his younger brothers, Patrick, and Ryan. While growing up, the three were best friends, often riding motor bikes in the country on weekends. A memorable vacation together was a white-water rafting trip down the Salmon River in Idaho. On Christmas Eve, when the boys were little, they all slept together in one bed. A fan of traditions, Harrison tried to keep the sleep over going as they grew into teenagers; “That was funny because they were all too big to fit,” Harrison’s mother, Lori said.
Harrison was creative and entertaining. He was “athletic, friendly, handsome, and the life of the party,” his mom commented. Friendships came easily because he had a way of making everyone he met feel special. “There was no one who didn’t like him,” Lori said.
Harrison was close to both sets of grandparents, always taking time to connect with them. “He had a heart for older people and had two special needs cousins, who he was very patient with,” Lori said. During college, he was a camp counselor at Camp Rap-A-Hope, an oncology camp for children. His partner was his husky, Buck. They were always together. “Buck died of a broken heart one year after Harrison’s death,” Lori said.
After graduating from high school, Harrison attended the University of Alabama. He pledged a fraternity and enjoyed college. Soon, the family began seeing changes. He stopped attending classes, stayed out all night, then dropped out of school to focus on his music. A self-taught guitar player, Harrison played by ear. When he performed, it was with an obvious love and passion for the music. He could easily jump into any band who was short a guitarist and play along. “While he was falling in love with music, he was also falling in love with drugs,” Lori stated.
Harrison moved to Nashville, waited tables and pursued his music, becoming a studio musician. Soon, his need for drugs was taking over his life, and he could not function without them. He told his mom, “I feel great when I take opioids. They make me feel normal.” When the high wasn’t enough, he started using fentanyl, and his life spiraled out of control. He lost relationships with his brothers, which broke his heart. He hated being dependent on drugs, but couldn’t find a way out. Lori said, “I could do nothing but sit and watch him self-destruct.”
Harrison reached out for help after another brush with law enforcement and asked to go into treatment for the third time. He seemed to really want it, and his mother was hopeful. She got weekly calls saying he was doing well. Harrison asked to stay longer to continue his therapy. The last day of treatment, she came to meet him to celebrate, then realized that he had used that evening. “I packed up my things and returned home the next morning. I told him I loved him and that I would always be here for him on his journey to sobriety. But I could no longer watch him self-destruct,” Lori stated. Seven days later, Harrison was found dead from an overdose of fentanyl.
Lori hoped that Harrison’s passion for music would overcome his desire for drugs, but it didn’t happen. She said, “I believe that Harrison is at peace and that heaven is enjoying one hell of a great guitar player!”
Harrison’s mother, Lori Myles, provided the information for this narrative.
January 16, 1990-September 3, 2022-Age 32
Portrait Artist: Jason Irwin
Narrative Writer: Barbara Francois
