Contradiction on two legs: The life of Dylan Gross

Dylan Gross was known by many for his vibrant personality. The Central York High School senior exuded confidence and self-assurance. “He was the kind of person who walked around like he owned the place,” said his best friend, Anna Davis. “He could have a conversation with anyone. He was like that. Just, very social.” Often, with a big personality comes big dreams. Dylan was no different.

“He had so many crazy plans for his future,” said Ilse Bastida, another of his close friends. According to his mother, Natalie Rice, Dylan planned to attend Kutztown University, with an undecided major. Besides a college major, Dylan’s goals were far from undecided. “He wanted to be a reality star. He wanted to move to California and become famous,” said Bastida.

Anyone who knew Dylan knew that he loved taking pictures. According to his friends, Dylan’s favorite subject was himself and anyone else he could squeeze into the frame.

“Dylan loved being in front of the camera. He always had his phone out,” said Davis. “If you were taking a picture or posting something to your snap story, he would always jump in.”

Countless posts on Vine and Instagram show Dylan as a happy person with an infectious sense of humor, often posting videos of himself laughing with friends or pulling pranks on family members. To the outside world, Dylan seemed very happy. Dylan’s social media profiles project him as someone who lived without care or worry. Someone who just wanted to have a good time.

In large part, Dylan was the guy that everyone saw on social media. The three words his mother used to describe him were, “genuine, real and happy.”

Dylan had a lot of friends. He got good grades. He spent every moment he wasn’t at school or work with friends. Always laughing or cracking jokes, Dylan was a very happy person.

He was also very sick.

For years, Dylan fought addiction. On Friday, March 11, 2016, Dylan lost his battle and overdosed. By the weekend, Dylan was gone.

When news of his death spread, many in the community, including Dylan’s teachers and classmates, were shocked that someone they thought they knew had passed away from something as menacing as drug overdose.

Common knowledge would say that the people that saw him every day, his friends, teachers and classmates, should’ve been able to see how much his addiction had taken hold.

TV shows, movies and other popular culture dictate what heroin addicts look like: homeless people with ragged clothing that roam the streets of slums and projects.

“That’s the thing,” said Davis. “Dylan hid his addiction really well.” For the most part, Dylan got to school on time. He got good grades. He maintained friendships, as well as any teenager could, and worked as a server at his family’s restaurant. “People knew he had a problem,” said Davis. “They just didn’t know how bad it was.”

Like many others who struggled with addiction, Dylan’s journey with substance abuse started out innocent enough. “He didn’t just wake up one day and decide to shoot heroin,” said Davis. He experimented with marijuana in middle school. From marijuana Dylan moved onto harder drugs and eventually settled on his high of choice, heroin. By that time, Dylan, although still maintaining the facade of normalcy, lost part of himself to his addiction.

Relationships with his friends and family began to strain, until the Dylan Gross that stood in front of them, was no longer the Dylan Gross they knew and loved. Therein lies the real tragedy of this story.

“That’s why I hate looking at pictures of us from high school,” said Davis. “He got skinny because of the drugs. I like the middle school pictures a lot better. The [pictures] where we’re both a little pudgey, but happy.”

That’s how we should remember Dylan Gross. Like his friends and family, we should remember the real Dylan Gross. The Dylan Gross untainted by his disease.

“My fondest memory of Dylan was two years ago on our family trip to the Bahamas,” said his mother. She explained that he spent the whole time exploring and hanging out with his cousins. Dylan did every activity possible that trip. Fishing, canoeing, snorkeling, he did it all. “That’s how he was,” she said. “Dylan wasn’t afraid to do anything.”

What Davis and Bastida both remember about Dylan was his fascination with places like Chickies Rock and Top of the World. Especially Top of the World.

For those unfamiliar, Chickies Rock is an outcropping of rocks above the Susquehanna River and Top of the World is an outlook where you can see almost all of York city from above. Both are known for their amazing views and opportunities for awesome instagrams.

“I know it’s basic, but he loved [Top of the World],” said Davis. “He loved looking at the city and at all of the big houses. He wanted to be [like the people who lived there], rich and famous.”

Dylan Gross was a complex person. Happy and sad, healthy and sick, hopeful and hurting. Dylan embodied contradiction. Although struggling with addiction himself, he shared the dream of one day becoming an addiction counselor with Davis.

“It’s ironic, but Dylan really wanted to turn his life around. He wanted to help people who struggled like him,” said Davis, who plans to attend Shippensburg in the fall to study criminal justice to become a counselor for drugs and alcohol.

Most of all Davis said, “Dylan would want people to tell his story. He would have wanted his story to mean something to someone one day.”

The Prowler offers its deepest condolences to the friends and family of Dylan Gross. If you or someone you know struggles with addiction, please seek help. You can call the confidential Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Helpline at: 1-800-662-HELP or visit their online treatment center locator at: https://findtreatment.samhsa.gov/. You can help someone you love get the treatment they deserve.

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