'We're fighting for the loved ones left behind by drugs misery'

TWO years ago Keith Fowler was a joiner. He'd get in his van in the morning, do what needed done, then come home in the evening with hands rough from working with wood, and dirt from an honest day's graft under his nails.

If anyone had said to him then that one day he'd mingle with society's select few at a royal garden party, stand in front of MSPs, police officers and university professors and tell them straight, in his ordinary working man's voice, how to make things better, his reply would have been straightforward and to the point.

He'd never have believed it.

But today Keith has a voice that's hard to ignore. It was always strong and his language pragmatic, now it's also revealed itself to be articulate and passionate, words spilling out ferociously fast, devastatingly poignant.

This is a voice that perhaps even he didn't know he had. And Keith found it following the tragic death of his 24-year-old son Perry. "The thing is," he explains, bristling with intense resentment. "That once someone is dead and it's drug-related, it becomes like it's not a problem any more.

"The typical attitude is 'well, you haven't got this drug problem in your life any more, so off you go, get on with it'. But it doesn't go away at all. In some ways, it's just the start.

"All I am is a joiner," he adds with a shrug. "I sit there in my old suit in front of doctors and professors, people from the Scottish Crime and Drug Enforcement Agency, specialists and all that, and I try to explain it the only way I know how."

Keith is perched on the edge of his living room armchair talking about how he's morphed from joiner to the voice of Scotland's grieving parents, siblings and friends of drug addicts.

As he talks, overlooking him on a shelf is a framed photograph of Perry, handsome, fresh-faced and oozing life.

Keith found him upstairs on a Sunday morning, July 6, two years ago. He'd gone to Perry's bedroom to jokingly chide him for taking his cigarette lighter, but when he threw open the door it was to find him lying lifeless from a drug overdose.

The nightmare which started five years earlier when the family discovered Perry, traumatised by terrible violent attacks in his childhood, was taking drugs had now entered a new, harrowing phase.

Simply dealing with their own grief might have been enough but Keith and Perry's mum, Debbie, had other ideas.

Later this month, the Perry Fowler Trust Family Support Group, will meet in Musselburgh; a meeting open to anyone who has watched a loved one wrestle with drugs or alcohol.

It's a chance, says Keith, for people to find their own voice or just listen to others share how addiction has affected their lives.

"We want recognition for what families go through," he says. "There's enough out there for drug users, there's enough education programmes in schools and there's enough support for people who are the addicts.

"But what about the people who have to put up with the abuse? The ones who are stigmatised in the community because there's a drug or alcohol user in the family? The ones who have to live through it too? Because drugs aren't just the abuser's problem, it's their problem too."

The couple, of Osborne Terrace, Port Seton, were still reeling from Perry's tragic death and planning how to turn it into something positive, when it became clear the greatest need was close to home.

"The police were fantastic at the time," says Debbie. "But they're not counsellors. Once they'd moved on, we realised there was no-one to go to for help."

The couple were stunned when one bereavement counselling organisation admitted they couldn't see them for at least six months. "We had all these issues to think about. We were tormented thinking about the abuse he'd gone through and then how to deal with losing him.

"But there was nowhere to go," adds Keith.

Keith, 46, took the first steps to launching the Perry Fowler Trust and met with representatives from Scottish Families Affected by Drugs (SFAD), an organisation which encourages the formation of local support groups.

His passion and determination was getting noticed. Joinery took a back seat while he trained in how to counsel others and became an SFAD board member and trustee.

Soon his straight-talking calls for support for families led to a position on the National Forum for Drugs Related Death in Scotland, sitting alongside Crown Office representatives, doctors, crime specialists and addiction experts.

It's largely down to him that its latest submission to the Scottish Government calls for services dealing with addicts to try to ensure support is in place for families, and even recommends national guidelines on how to guide grieving families through the complex legal issues they typically face.

Earlier this year the couple's achievements were formally recognised with an invitation to the royal garden party at Holyrood, where they mingled in circles they'd never before imagined would open to them.

"It was a bit strange," grins Keith. "There were all these people, all dressed up, and there was us."

As Keith's confidence has grown, he's appeared on radio and television, most recently representing the Scottish Drug Recovery Consortium, which last month hit headlines by calling for an end to the word "junkie".

"It's about not labelling people," stresses Keith. "We want people to look at the person, rather than the addict. We want them to remember that person has a family and they're not necessarily bad people because they are addicts."

Debbie, 47, nods. "I'd go to the shops and I could hear people say, 'That's her, that Perry's mum'. So I ended up not going. I knew my son worked and could be the nicest, most polite boy. Drug users aren't bad people, but drugs can make good people do bad things.

"But whatever he did I was never, ever not proud of him. I had 24 beautiful years with him. I loved him and he loved me."

She prefers to remain in the background of the Trust. Keith, she insists, knows how to put it all into words. "I feel the pressure of it," he admits. "There's times I wonder why I'm putting myself through it, because it can be hard when the phone rings and someone's upset because they've lost someone to drugs and want to talk.

"Or when I'm sitting in front of professionals.

"But people seem willing to listen, because if anyone knows what it's like to go through this, then it's us. It doesn't bring Perry back, but if doing this helps other people get through it, it'll be worthwhile."

The Perry Fowler Trust Family Support Group will meet at the Gate House, Lewis Vale Park, Musselburgh on September 22 at 7pm. Meetings will then be held every fortnight. For details log on to www.perryfowlertrust.co.uk or call 01875-811 155.

Talented youngster's tragic end

Perry Fowler went to Cockenzie Primary and Preston Lodge High School.

He was a talented artist who loved sport and was said to have had potential to compete at international level weightlifting.

However at the age of 13 he was attacked near his home by two other boys.

He was beaten and shot at with an air gun, reawakening memories of another traumatic event in his youth. Perry had kept secret until he was 15 that he'd been raped when he was just eight years old while living in England.

His parents believe his anguish sparked his downward spiral into drug abuse, culminating in heroin addiction.

Ironically, Perry had weaned himself off the drug and had been clean for seven months until his fatal overdose.