REPRINTED FROM KINGMAN DAILY MINER
Wusstig's life like Greek tragedy, mistake is meth
Aaron Royster
Miner Staff Writer
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| Alice Wusstig remembers a time when her son Steven played Little League baseball and lived a life untouched by methamphetamine. Courtesy | |
KINGMAN - His story reads like a Greek tragedy. A man achieves greatness by working hard. He obtains many friends and touches many lives. He marries and has two children. Then his good fortune is reversed by a mistake resulting from his own actions.
But unfortunately for Steven Joseph Wusstig, 34, of Kingman, it isn't fiction, rather a reality his surviving family will have to live with every day. They're the ones left to tell his story.
Act I
Born on Jan. 31, 1973, in Guam, Steven was the first-born and only son of Steven and Alice Wusstig.
Around age 6, he moved with his family to Kingman, where he attended elementary, junior high and high school.
His youth wasn't a carefree existence. He had a run-in with law enforcement for damaging signs ,according to his mother.
It was also the first time he experimented with drugs. The combination of the two negatives in his life ended with him in the first Shock incarceration facility.
In 1993, Mohave County Sheriff Joe Cook founded the only Shock incarceration facility in Arizona. In 1996, Sheriff Tom Sheahan, building upon the 85 percent success rate the adult program was demonstrating, opened Shock to juveniles.
The 90-day strict, boot-camp style rehabilitation program at the Kingman Airport put young offenders through intense physical and disciplinary training, counseling and education programs.
"Good or bad," Melissa "Missy" Polley, Steven's sister, said. "Everything he did, he did well. He was the best at whatever he did."
Upon completion of the program, Steven had turned his life around.
"We had rules," Alice said. "You have to change your life. You couldn't be around those people."
Caryn Fuhrmeister, Steven's youngest sister, said he remained friends with the individuals he met as a teen when he first started using drugs.
"He tried to lead them in a better direction," Fuhrmeister said. "It's too bad he didn't have a friend like himself."
Steven later married his junior high school sweetheart, Samantha, and they had a daughter, Brooklyn, and a son, Steven. He got a job at UPS and worked there for nine years.
"It's hard to tell you about Steven," Alice said. "He was our first child.
"He was such a caring person."
She referenced an incident when Wusstig's alcoholic uncle was kicked out of his home and was living on the streets. She said he found him and took him in to care for.
"Steve's always been caring," Polley said. "He was always there for anybody, even if it put him in a bad spot."
Act II
According to Alice, Steve became ill around four years ago and had to go to the hospital. During his stay, he took prescribed medication to ease his pain.
That stay reintroduced him to the affects of drugs, and the feeling had a pull on him.
"He had the American dream," Alice said. "But something, and that something is meth, took it all away."
According to Alice, Steven moved out of his home and away from his family, closer to the drug community. She added she felt he also did so to prevent any harm from coming to his family.
Even during all this, his wife loved him.
"I feel blessed that he had her loving him the way she did," Alice said.
Polley said Steven would sometimes visit her and her family and would often just sit there staring off into space.
"There was sadness in his eyes," Polley said. "When we would see him, he looked so lost. Maybe he just wanted a moment of normality."
On March 28, 2006, Steven was given three years probation with 200 days of it to be spent in jail from a 2005 case where he pleaded guilty to transporting more than two pounds of marijuana for sale.
"He did try to fight his addiction," Alice said. "You get mad at them, but you don't understand the addiction."
That effort and the memory of who he was as a person is what the family held on to.
"Even these past four years he is, Steve is, the light of my mother's life," Alice said.
He called his 88-year-old grandmother on Mother's Day from the jail. He unfortunately didn't get to speak to her when she accidentally hit the wrong button on her phone to accept the call.
"I told her the key thing was that he did call her," Alice said.
Alice described his daughter Brooklyn as a daddy's girl.
"His children meant everything," Alice said. "His wife meant everything to him."
The last time the family saw him was at his daughter's basketball game in February or March, Alice said.
Steven was arrested on April 24 in the three separate cases. He was facing two theft charges, two theft of a means of transportation charges, one unlawful flight from a pursuing law enforcement vehicle charge and one possession of methamphetamine drug paraphernalia charge in three separate cases.
"It horrible to be happy to know your son is in jail, but you know he is safe," Alice said.
Steven escaped from the Mohave County Jail Annex with Raymond Joseph Coleman, 40, of Kingman on June 9.
Alice added he expressed a desire never to go back to jail, so she had a feeling something bad could happen.
"I knew when Steve broke out of jail, he knew he was tired of fighting the drugs," Alice said. "We felt that Steven was tired of hurting his family."
Steven escaped with Coleman after allegedly assaulting a corrections officer. Alice said she was told that her son actually didn't assault the officer.
They were seen leaving the area in a white passenger car that later was found. While Mohave County Sheriff's detectives are looking into the escape, Alice said she felt there had to be some planning for an associate to leave a car near the jail.
Steven was shot and killed June 12 in Lake Havasu City by Mohave County Sheriff's deputies, who were following up on a lead as to the whereabouts of the escaped inmates. Steven allegedly opened fire on deputies, and one deputy returned fire, killing him instantly.
Alice said she wasn't upset at the police for the actions they took. She added she felt they did what they had to do and was thankful he didn't hurt the deputies.
"I am so thankful God took him now before he did something that would not get him in heaven."
His family felt Steven shooting at the cops was uncharacteristic of him.
"Steve was never a violent person," Fuhrmeister said. "Only the meth made him violent."
Act III
On Saturday, the family held services for Steven.
"We've had hundreds of people coming to us that he has touched with his life," Alice said.
With such a sudden end to the life of a loved one, his family is left to reflect on his life.
"When I lay in bed at night," Alice said. "I think of the things I want to say about him.
"He was a wonderful son. He always kissed me on the cheek and said 'I love you mom,' even when we were arguing and upset with each other."
The last time she saw Steven, Alice said she refused to hug him because she was upset with him.
"You never know when it will be your last moment," Alice said. "Hug your children."
His family and friends appreciated his affection.
"He had by far the best hugs," Polley said. "He never let you go."
Alice said her son was a big fan of the comic book superhero Spiderman and the Adidas brand. Right now, she is just trying to collect all of Steven's items from his friends and associates. Anyone with any items can drop them off at her house located at 2635 Potter Ave.
Alice added she's already packed over eight plastic totes of his clothing. She said she wanted to make a quilt out of them for his children.
"I know they loved him," Alice said. "Stevie Boy is five and a half. Because of meth, Stevie will be lacking memories of his father."
One of Steven's potential legacies is his family's effort to help combat methamphetamine addiction in the community.
"People need to know meth just doesn't affect the addict," Alice said. "It affects everyone around them."
While Steven was fighting his addiction, Alice said she researched online for information and help.
"I got a lot of 800 numbers," Alice said. "Who do you call for help here?
"It sure would be nice if you had some place to go in our town. You feel lost as a family."
Alice added she felt there weren't any resources in Kingman to help to combat methamphetamine addiction.
"Kingman isn't that big of a town," Alice said. "There are a lot of people with big hearts. If we know of it (drug use) as private citizens, I believe we should be able to do something."
Alice suggested a strong block watch presence in the city.
"I want to know what I can do to help them (the people left)," Alice said. "I can first-hand tell you what it (meth) did to a beautiful, loving man," Alice said.
Alice said she plans to contact the Kingman chapter of the Anti-Meth Coalition to see what she can do.
"If it helps one family not to go through this," Alice said. "That is what we want."