Convicted airman considers himself lucky

  • Published
  • By Airman 1st Class Madelyn Waychoff
  • 388th Fighter Wing Public Affairs
HILL AIR FORCE BASE, Utah (AFPN) --  With tears in his eyes, he spoke of his two sons -- how he is missing them grow up, and how they are growing up so fast. His voice quivered as he mentioned his youngest son's visit, and how his boy did not even recognize him. He will miss his youngest son's first birthday this month.

Airman Basic Ryan Palmquist was court-martialed for drug use, possession and distribution more than two months ago. He is now in the confinement facility here awaiting transfer to the confinement facility at the Marine Corps Air Station in Miramar, Calif.

Palmquist was given a bad-conduct discharge, reduction to the lowest enlisted rank, forfeiture of all pay and allowances and confinement for two years and two months -- but that is not all.

Even after his confinement is over, "I will still have my record and my dishonorable discharge working against me," he said. "What I did will have effects in every job I apply for and will always weigh heavily on any decisions made about me."

He said he is lucky because his wife always stood by him and continues to do so -- but with many conditions.

"Life isn't at all easy living with a drug addict," Palmquist said. "My wife knows that better than anyone. I know what I did will always make her scared for me, and that every time I go out without her she'll be wondering what I'm doing. But, I hope when I get out that I can alleviate her fears."

Palmquist's first experience with drugs was seven years ago, when he was 17. He said the reason he tried them the first time was because he was young, stupid and inquisitive.

"I was just curious about them and wanted to know what all the 'hype' was about," he said with regret. "When my best friend brought over some marijuana, I didn't feel pressured into trying it."

Palmquist's curiosity got the better of him. From marijuana, he moved on to heroin, opium, cocaine and methamphetamines.

"The meth was the worst for me," Palmquist said. "I felt like I was on top of the world when I was high, but when the high was over, I'd get extremely depressed.

"After I'd been on drugs for two years, I thought they were all I needed. I went from snorting it to smoking it to shooting up. I was 19 and I lost everything -- my apartment, my money and all my possessions. My weight fell to 135 pounds, and now my 'best friend,' who'd introduced me to drugs, was in jail. I ended up living out of a bag on the streets of Salt Lake City, jumping from one place to another, but never really knowing where I was. I was on the brink of either death or jail."

Palmquist said his parents convinced him to move back to California with them. He said when he went back, he cleaned up, but never completely kicked the habit. While in California, his life changed for the better. He got married and had his first son. Then he joined the Air Force.

When Palmquist graduated from technical school, he moved to Germany. There, he had no access to drugs and was going through withdrawals.

Because of the withdrawals and his breakdown in Salt Lake City, Palmquist was battling depression and anxiety. Without disclosing his past drug use, he saw a doctor who prescribed a dextroamphetamine for attention deficit hyperactive disorder.

Dextroamphetamines and methamphetamines are forms of amphetamines. The different forms are so similar that they can only be differentiated by laboratory analysis, according to the Oklahoma Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs.

Palmquist used the prescription as a crutch for his habit. He began to abuse it to try to get the effects of the illegal drugs.

After Germany, Palmquist was assigned to the 388th Equipment Maintenance Squadron here. En route, he took leave and went to California to visit his family.

When he arrived in California, he went back to his old habits and again started shooting up. His wife began to suspect something and turned him in to the Office of Special Investigations. Palmquist failed a urinalysis.

"My wife didn't want the family to be destroyed by my habit like she'd already seen me destroyed," said Palmquist. "So, she filed for a divorce."

"Afterwards, I moved ... to Hill, and I told my wife I'd cleaned up," Palmquist said. "I convinced her to move back out here with me, and we got an apartment together. At the time, I had a line number for staff (sergeant).

"But I still needed to support my habit without my wife knowing. I couldn't keep borrowing money from her, so I started dealing."

It wasn't long before OSI agents arrested Palmquist for use, possession and distribution while using his friend as an informant. He was placed in rehab; however, Palmquist continued using and two days later left for Salt Lake City. He was absent without leave.

Palmquist said there were a couple times he almost overdosed.

"I would just pass out wherever I was," he said. "I moved around, living out of a bag, just trying to support my habit."

A month later, Palmquist's wife was able to contact him and convince him to turn himself in. His father again came and picked him up and brought him back to California. Once there, Palmquist turned himself in to OSI and was placed in pre-trial confinement.

Palmquist said now he is angry.

"It was nobody's fault but mine," he said. "A choice I made seven years ago destroyed my life now. I come from a strong religious upbringing, and to look at me now you would never know. I just feel like I've let everyone down."

Palmquist said the biggest repercussions are his family's loss of trust and losing his career.

"My wife was overwhelmed and destroyed by what I did," he said. "She did nothing wrong, but she is still paying for my actions. And that makes me feel horrible. To do what I did to her and my family is something I'm not sure I'll ever be able to fix, but I hope someday I can."

He said he had everything going for him: a spotless military career, awards and decorations and high ratings on his enlisted performance reports.

"People who use drugs go down a spiral and hit rock bottom, but they don't even see it. And there are only a few ways they can go. They can stay at the bottom and go to jail, or even die, or they can get lucky, like me, and have their family pull them out and support them.

"Now I get to wake up everyday to see the cage I'm in," he said. "And all I can think about is 'one more day to get through.'"

The cravings still sneak up on him from time to time, he said, but thinking of his family and the day he will get out gets him through it.

Although his plans for the future are uncertain, Palmquist said he would like to pursue higher education and use his experiences to convince others in drug programs or schools that drugs are not the answer. (Courtesy of Air Combat Command News Service)