The last time I spoke to my son was at 2:02am on July 11, 2016 when divine intervention caused him to call me by accident intending to call his roommate and best friend in Portland, Oregon, the place he moved a few months ago with the intentions of getting a fresh start.  He had just finished a night of street performing ending after the bars emptied out.  He sounded fine during the less than two minute conversation, that ended by my telling him to be careful and that I loved him.   His last words to me were “I love you too, mom.”  Thank you God for giving me that.    He was gone a few hours later.  

 

Even though I didn’t hear it in his voice, Noah was apparently very drunk when his friend picked him up roughly a half hour later.  After they got home and hung out for a little bit Noah, who suffered from insomnia,  said he was going to take a Xanax and go to bed.   He didn’t have a prescription for Xanax and there were none found in his room, and just from knowing him as I do, I suspect that “a Xanax” was likely code for either a handful of Xanax or a harder drug altogether.  Whatever it was, he never woke up again.   He was 20 years old.

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Noah is survived by his younger brother, Liam, his mother Evening Stark (maiden name Erin Padget), his father, Ron Shincke, and three generations of long living extended family.  There are no services planned at this time, and any notice of an event in the future will be found on this website.   In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Noah’s name to the charities found on the Charity page.

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