Drugs derail, then end, a promising young life

LARGO — With her son Matthew in the hospital for a drug overdose in March 2007, Rita Sinn didn't buy flowers.

Instead, Sinn, 53, bought cemetery plots for any family members who might need the space someday.

But in the back of her mind, she knew who it was for.

"I didn't want him to be alone when he died," Sinn said.

Matthew Serra died on Friday in a rented condominium, a stash of OxyContin, Valium and methadone by his bedside, his family said. His family suspects a drug overdose. Mr. Serra was 28.

Once, Mr. Serra seemed destined to fulfill his dream of becoming a military lawyer. He got into Virginia Military Institute on a swimming scholarship, and was captain of the swim team and the Pre-Law Society.

"When he wasn't using, he was infectious," said his sister, Kim Purcell, 31. "He was somebody you just couldn't get enough of.

"He was a cute kid, he always had girls with him. He was cocky and athletic. He was all the things most kids wish they were in high school."

Mr. Serra grew up in Largo, the son of a successful financial planner. He celebrated his fourth birthday in a hospital, after trying to jump a fence with his bicycle. He wanted to be a Navy Seal.

At VMI, his ambition matured. Now he wanted to become a judge advocate general.

An arrest after graduation for doctor shopping changed all that. Further arrests for sale of morphine and possession of steroids seemed to put his dreams out of reach.

A stint in jail introduced him to people who knew which doctors would prescribe drugs such as OxyContin. Mr. Serra still had X-rays from a freak accident in which he had fractured two vertebrae. And he could talk.

"I don't want to say 'manipulative,' but he could have his way with people," said his brother, Stephen Serra, 26.

He worked day labor. He pressure-cleaned houses. He lost weight.

"He hated disappointing us as much as we hated it," his brother said.

For several months in 2007, he stayed at a Clearwater treatment center. The old Matthew came back, sharp and confident and clear. Cautiously, his family began to hope.

Mr. Serra left the Center of Hope after six months. He told his mother that seeing the new addicts coming in bothered him.

At her home on Monday, Sinn gazed at a photo of her son in a cadet's white uniform. He holds a gleaming sword across his chest; there is a hint of defiance in his smile. The picture "epitomizes everything he could have been," she said.

His ashes will go in the place she reserved a year and a half ago in case the worst should happen.

Andrew Meacham can be reached at ameacham@sptimes.com or (813) 661-2431.