Faces of the White Death

I grew up in the early 2000s. I was constantly worried about two of my cousins. They were away fighting America’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. My family always watched the news, seeking every detail about hotspots like Fallujah and “RPG Alley.” Against all evidence, we hoped that things would calm down and that America’s total victory was nigh. Of course, “total victory” never came, but my cousins returned safe. They both left the military.

In hindsight, those were untroubled days. Since the invasion, 4,898 Americans have died in Iraq, and 3,584 in Afghanistan, making 8,482 total. While that’s 8,482 too many, it’s a pittance compared to the casualties of America’s drug crisis.

In 2017, the average number of American deaths per day caused by drug overdoses was nearly 200. In any two-month period in 2017, the number of Americans who died from overdoses was greater than the total number of Americans who have died in the Middle East since 2001.

Yet Americans cannot follow this slaughter blow-by-blow like they could the wars. In 2004, news coverage was all about Iraq and Afghanistan. In comparison, the “white death” ravaging the Rust Belt today receives little coverage.

At the time of this writing, the front page of the Washington Post website has nothing on this topic. Instead, there are stories including, “Cats do have facial expressions, but you probably can’t read them.” A top opinion column is, “This vape craze should never have been allowed to happen.” E-cigarettes may not be healthy, but they’re healthier than Fentanyl.

Why won’t our political class and media address this crisis seriously? I suspect it’s because many victims are white, poor, and living outside the centers of power in America’s big coastal cities. Protected classes receive much more media attention, even when the death toll is miniscule.

The media obsessively cover almost every case of black males killed by police. Yet these are rare, which even liberal outlets quietly admit: “In 2017, police killed 19 unarmed black males, down from 36 in 2015, according to The Washington Post.”

Meanwhile, in the Midwest and neighboring regions, tens of thousands of whites are killed by heroin, Fentanyl, OxyContin, and other drugs every year.

Their grandparents built the most powerful industrial economy in world history.  Their ancestors were pioneers who civilized the continent. Today, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia have some of the highest unemployment rates in the country. Their citizens are dying in droves from Mexican heroin.

Statistics are useful, but a picture is worth a thousand words. Each number represents a person and a story.

We need a new elite that cares about this problem and will act. When we create it, we also should build a monument to each of our lost citizens. Today, we can at least ensure they are not forgotten.

Delaney Farrell, age 23, Pennsylvania (heroin)

Karisten Sherman, age 23, Ohio (heroin)

Vanessa Abbott, age 24, North Carolina (heroin)

Patrick (age 29) and Liam Savoy Oneill (age 1), California. Dad died of a Fentanyl overdose, and his son did as well from the mere exposure to the stuff.

Sarah Reams, age 16, North Carolina (cocaine mixed with Fentanyl)

Gwyn Kenny-Staddon, age 16, British Columbia (heroin, Fentanyl, and Xanax)

Luke Ronnei, age 20, Minnesota (heroin)

Dustin Manning (age 19) and Joseph Abraham (age 18), Georgia (heroin and Fentanyl)

Michelle Buckner, age 26, North Carolina (Fentanyl)

Seth Abbot, age 24, North Carolina (Fentanyl)

Veronica Jecker, age 22, Kentucky (heroin)

The number of women killed in this epidemic is especially haunting. In 1915, the stalwart American racialist David Starr Jordan wrote the invaluable book War and the Breed. Jordan argued war is dysgenic because the nation sends its best young men out to die before they have children. However, he also said that “if the fittest among the women were also destroyed, the proportion of decline would be twice as rapid . . . At least the generation to come may have mothers and grandmothers as fine as if there had been no war at all.”

That small mercy doesn’t exist in this silent war. The sons and daughters of America’s proud yeomen and roughnecks are wasting away.

I hope that one day our descendants will see this and compare it to their situation. I hope they think it’s fiction. “Can’t be,” I hope they think. “Things never could’ve gotten that bad. Surely we never sunk so low.”