Locks of loss and love: Spreading addiction awareness to the Lexington community

Each lock represents a story, some placed as a commitment to sobriety while some honor loved ones. They come together to make a monument that brings hope to the community of Lexington.

Pam Stamper, the mother of Chelis, who lost his battle to addiction, has poured her heart and soul into this marker.

Photo by Keegan Rose.

After Chelis passing, Stamper found inspiration through France's "Locks of Love" bridge, which is covered with locks symbolizing eternal love.

"The more locks that go on there, the more awareness we get out here," Stamper said. "More people looking at that fence are getting curious about what that fence is."

Stamper said there are around 600 locks that have been placed since the fence was founded in August 2021. All of these locks have a story to them - told or untold.

In the corner of Stamper's living room is a miniature replica of Locks for Addiction. Created by her brother, its smaller size allows Stamper to cherish it in her home, easily travel with it and take it to events.

Toward the top of both fences is a lock dedicated to Chelis, who passed away at age 29. Next to Chelis' are more locks for Jaron "Scooby" Frizalone. Scooby passed away from an overdose in 2017. His mother, Dannette Hopper, learned about the Locks for Addiction fence through Facebook, despite living in New Port Richey, Florida.

"To give others peace, I decided to make a small fence in my front yard. I named the fence Scooby's Story Memory Fence. We have about 30 locks on there at this time in someone's memory," Hopper said.

Sandie Robinson traveled across the country from California to hang up a lock of her own.

"I met some people on TikTok and met up with them. One of the girls knew about Locks of Addiction and wanted to share with us the fence. We all have a common denominator of addiction, so it was only fitting that we share the experience together," Robinson said.

Robinson didn't know what to expect when she saw the fence in person. The mix of sobriety and memorial locks caused a range of emotions.

"The stigma out there regarding addiction is so strong, it causes people in addiction to stay quiet, stay in shame and never actually make it out of addiction. Seeing those recovery dates just means something so deep that no one who has ever experienced addiction would understand," Robinson explained.

James Craft, a Lexington resident, found placing a lock on the fence to be a helpful step in his sobriety journey.

"When I hung up my lock, it felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Some people use the term, 'a gorilla in a cage clawing at your back." Craft said. "For me, it was like there was no more gorilla. It felt great to be able to say 'I made it."

Stamper's fence has impacted many people's lives, whether she knows them or not.

"I think the most powerful story I've heard that placed locks was a mother and daughter," Stamper said. "They were both on drugs, and the daughter got clean and helped the mom get sober. They hung their sobriety locks together. That was really touching."

Stamper and her daughter, Aimee, believe that it is never too late for redemption. In a letter written to Chelis' drug dealer who so deeply impacted her life, Aimee voiced her hurt and feelings.

"It's not too late to change your path, remember, it all starts with the man in the mirror," Aimee said.

Photo by Keegan Rose.

The action of hanging a lock allows others struggling with addiction to know they are not alone.

Stamper said there has always been a stigma around addiction, and she wants to refocus the issue on providing support and resources to people struggling with addiction.

"It's easier to get help now than when my son passed away 11 years ago," she said. "We sat and called so many places. He was only 29, he had no insurance. We called so many places trying to get him help or trying to get him in."

In the three years since she started her project, Stamper has met countless people who share her perspective on addiction.

"I help take care of it, but that fence does not belong to me. It now belongs to the community of Lexington," Stamper said.

To watch this story's video, click below.