Grieving dad seeks hope in Jasmine’s tragic death
Chilliwack man says young addict believed her story could help others
Outside of a 7-Eleven in Kamloops one night last June, Jasmine McIntyre said she hoped telling her story would help other youth survive B.C.’s overdose crisis.
She was 17 years old, but had already suffered incredible traumas, she explained under the glowing light of the convenience store. After her brother died suddenly in 2016, she used heroin to soothe her pain. She was sexually assaulted, watched the family home go to shambles, and became homeless. She overdosed more than a dozen times.
Still, Jasmine held on to hope that things would get better, she said during her interview for an article about youth homelessness. She believed other youth who used drugs ought to be lifted up and given hope, too.
After all, they were self-medicating for trauma and didn’t need to be constantly reminded that drugs are bad, she said. They needed help when they were ready to ask for it and a more gentle world in which to recover.
She called for schools to better educate youth about the root causes of addiction and for counselling and treatment to be made more widely available.
“When you see someone out on the streets getting high or just asking for money — whatever it is — that person must have gone through a hell of a lot to get there,” she said. “They must be dealing with more pain than you could ever imagine going through.”
Tragically, Jasmine died on June 14, after using drugs in the bedroom of her Chilliwack home. She was 18 and alone at the time.
Ken McIntyre sent a heartbreaking email to a reporter last week sharing the news about his daughter. Over the past year, Jasmine had been working hard on her recovery. She was so full of hope, McIntyre said.
She was painting non-stop and selling some pieces. She had a driver’s licence test booked the following week. She was looking to start a job and get housing in Nanaimo near some friends.
“She was just really, really looking forward,” McIntyre said. “I hadn’t seen that in a long time.”
But occasionally she would turn back to drugs, he admitted. There’s never been a deadlier time to relapse.
With the novel coronavirus pandemic limiting the flow of street drugs across the border into B.C., suppliers are cutting what little product is available with more fentanyl and other adulterants to keep the trade more profitable.
May was the deadliest month on record, with 170 people killed by unintentional illicit-drug toxicity, according to the B.C. Coroners Service. The report for June is due out soon.
The night before Jasmine died, she watched a movie with McIntyre and her 11-year-old sister.
Around 10 p.m., she hugged them both, said “good night,” and closed her bedroom door for the final time.
McIntyre and his two surviving children are shattered by their loss.
“Just with all the trauma she’s had, for her to keep that hope and caring for other people, even after all she’s been through,” he said, his voice trailing off.
McIntyre said he has spent the past few weeks dwelling on “farfetched” proposals to make a cleaner supply of drugs available. He also wants government to provide more counselling for youth and more treatment beds for help on demand. And he wonders whether Jasmine could have been saved by controversial legislation recently proposed by the B.C. government that would in severe cases require youth under 19 to be involuntarily held in a hospital for up to a week after a near-death overdose.
Jasmine overdosed on the Tuesday before she died, but she was able to get back up. Paramedics came to McIntyre’s home and tried to take her to hospital because her oxygen levels were low, but she refused.
“I know she probably would disagree with that program altogether,” McIntyre said. “I don’t how much it would have helped. But it would have stopped it this time.”
Meantime, McIntyre plans to keep the story of his “selfless” girl alive because that’s what she would want, he said.
“When it comes to the things that I’ve gone through my life, all the traumas, I tend to be an open book about that stuff,” Jasmine said last summer.
“I think that sharing those experiences is a good thing and opens doors and opportunities for others to realize that ‘Oh, OK, maybe I’m not the only one’ or ‘OK, there is someone that does care and there is someone who has gone through these terrible things like I have, that I can relate to.’
“I think that people who haven’t gone through traumas like I have — hearing about them just opens their eyes a little bit.”