Kind, loving, jokester with a great smile and infectious laugh
Noah was a kind, gentle and loving kid. He was generous with his time and possessions and was always helping someone. He had an amazing laugh and uncanny sense of humor. He loved his cats, Tiger and Boozer, playing basketball at the park, skateboarding and BMX riding. “He loved food and scaring people,” his mom said, ‘Music and the ladies, that’s what 19-year-old boys live for!’
Noah had the unique ability to make you laugh until your belly hurt and he could crack a joke for any occasion at any time. He was a jokester and could lie in wait for an hour just to jump out and scare the daylights out of you or do his evil eyebrow raise and add a sinister laugh.
Noah earned his GED in September and had not yet received his diploma when he died from an overdose. He was the first person that the school honored posthumously. His parents spoke for him at his graduation the month after he passed away. His mom said: “It still makes me cry. He was so smart and worked so hard, but the drugs took over.”
Noah didn’t want to go the college route or spend time in an office; he loved working with his hands and had set a goal to learn Heating and Cooling or to work as an Electrician and join the Electrical Workers Union. He always worked hard, even when using drugs, and enjoyed carpentry and working on his car. “His ethics never changed,” his mom said, ‘he took pride in whatever he did, in who he was and wanted to become. He always said he just needed to be normal one day with a good steady job, a nice car and a girlfriend.’
At his calling hours, the predominant theme from those who attended was that Noah helped people. He would show up if you were stuck in the snow, in an accident, or needed taken to the hospital or simply a ride to work. He was thoughtful and loving. He would bring his baby sister, now 10, milkshakes when he came home from work.
Noah was extremely high functioning, and was good at hiding his addiction from others. He never wanted anyone to know he used drugs but his mom noticed his appearance, his sunken face and ashy color. He could be distant, angry or moody. “Going through withdrawal was horrible, just as horrible as the disease itself, but Noah really wanted to be free of drugs,” his mom stated.’ It was such a worry, never knowing if you would see him again or get the dreaded knock on the door or the phone call, when we did, it was the worst day of my life.’
His mom misses “his look,” the raised eyebrow thing he did, his laugh, his mama hugs and his ability to tell a great joke just when it was needed. “I knew I would lose him young and there was nothing I could do to save him,” his mom said. “We all do the best we can at the moment. No one should ever lose a child. We need to end the stigma of drug addiction, let it be okay to talk about our kids without having to avoid the reason they are gone. These are shoes you don’t want to be in and a club you NEVER want to join, I promise you that!”
Noah’s mother, Jennifer Mitzel, provided the information for this narrative.
January 9, 1999-December 7, 2018
Age 19–Lived with addiction 3 years
