SUICIDE

Roughly 49,000 people take their own lives each year in the United States. Men are 4 times more likely to commit suicide than women.

Titus Eugene Worley became one of those men on March 29, 2026. He blew his brains out with a handgun in his home in Barstow, California.

Why?

There’s no affirmative answer to why anyone really chooses to end their own life. They make a suicide decision for reasons only they truly understand. One thing is certain, though: these people decide they no longer want to be among the living; that nothing about life in general or about their own lives in particular that is strong enough to make them want to continue the process of living.

Jodie and I came to know “Nico” in 2007 (as we knew him). He was one of Jodie’s senior class students at Houston’s predominantly African-American Jack Yates High School where Jodie taught for one semester.

After joining the Jim Adler Law Firm as its public relations director, Jodie persuaded Jim to create an internship for underprivileged students to give them an opportunity to understand the professional legal world and the social world around it.

Nico became Jim’s first intern. He excelled at it, just as he would in virtually every endeavor he undertook in life.

But emotional and psychological scar tissue cut deep into Nico’s soul. Abandoned as a child by both parents, he became a child in a low rent foster care system. He was never loved or nurtured—simply provided for in exchange for the government money his foster parent received for his and several other children’s livelihoods. Each was forced out of the foster home the day they turned 18.

He moved into the work force, always excelling in his job performances before joining the military. The structured life and professional standards of the military suited him well.

He married and had children. He worshipped them. He searched for, and located, an estranged father who, at the time, was suffering from a debilitating illness. Nico took him in, cared for him through his illness, and help him to return to his former life before Nico found him.

Nico was a man of God, a strong faith Christian who always was a good provider for his family. He was the beacon in their lives.

Throughout the next 15 years Nico became like an adopted son to Jodie and I. He called us every holiday and on our birthdays. He visited with us several times over the years and made Jodie the godmother of one of his children.

Yesterday I was standing by the bed folding clothes when I heard the phone ring and a few moments later Jodie’s scream, “oh, no … no, no, no” as sobs wracked her body. Just as I reached the door of her office, she turned to me, weeping …

“Nico is dead … he’s dead, Billy … he killed himself.”

Jodie returned to her conversation with Nico’s wife.

I went to my office and sat at my desk. Emptiness seem to engulf me. My two dogs came and lay at my feet. They knew something bad had happened to their humans.

I walked out on my front porch, stared at the valley and its midst below, and thought of Nico no longer in this life.

Is that all we are?

A bullet in the head that takes life away in an instant?

At the end of the last day in each of our lives, all we were become the memories we leave behind.

Nico gave us so many good memories—the laughter, the smiles, the joy of his presence, and the gift of his love and devotion.

We will cherish those memories always, Nico.

You are with your God now, son. Rest in peace.