They walk along in silence, some with heads bowed. They push forward for a mile or so on a dark, rainy night, some in tears.

All hold candles to light the way and, if possible, to help lift the heaviness of heartache. It's a lot to handle because they're dealing with life-changing loss at the hands of demon drugs."This walk means so much to so many people," says organizer John Sienkiewicz of Tamaqua. He and wife Tammy lost their beautiful 23-year-old daughter Alexandria, "Alex," in April. She is one of 45 drug deaths in Schuylkill County so far this year."We're doing this to bring awareness," says Tammy Sienkiewicz, still trying to come to terms with a void in her life."She was a good kid. She was into gymnastics and volleyball. She always liked helping everybody."That was the Alex everyone knew, eager to extend her hand to help you out of a jam. But she just couldn't help herself.And it hurts because Alex was the kind of daughter any parent would love to have.Everyone, it seems, has the same story to tell. Each tearful tale has a similar ending, something akin to a loving son or daughter found dead in a bedroom with a needle sticking out of the arm."If we can't save the next generation, what will happen," Tammy asks.More than 250 people showed up Saturday at the pavilion of Tamaqua Bungalow Park. They took part in "Out of the Darkness, Into the Light," a candlelight walk to stop the silence, start a conversation, and speak the truth. The event was sponsored by Safer Streets for Little Feets, the new nonprofit with a cute, rhyming name.About 560 had registered to be there, according Michele Mehallic of Tamaqua, but heavy rainfall, which stopped in time for the walk, kept some away.Those who showed were determined to make a difference."I'm here to support the cause. I lived in town my whole life and know people who died from it," says Amy Walburn, who, like many, wore a raincoat.HeartbreakMost participants were parents and relatives of Tamaqua area young adults whose lives were cut short by addiction.Everybody carried scars of loss, each with a powerful story.Tears mixed with raindrops rolled down the face of Debbie Bitsko of Tamaqua as she held up a poster, representing her late daughter.Jessica Bitsko, 28, of Nesquehoning, lost her battle on July 23, 2015. The Jim Thorpe native was young, talented and beautiful. Jessica enjoyed fishing, four-wheeling, reading and crocheting, and was an avid Phillies and Eagles fan."She had a degree in criminal justice from Temple University," says her mother. But drugs put an end to great promise, breaking the spirits of Debbie and companion Barb Francis, and so many others.In an unthinkable tragedy, Mary Brode of Tamaqua lost two precious granddaughters within six months. Samantha Rose Durling, 24, passed away Nov. 1, 2015, followed by Nicole Pester, 27, on May 9, 2016."Samantha was kind, soft-spoken and always wanted to help everybody and loved her two children," says Brode.As for Nicole, "She was a free spirit, always happy. She loved going to concerts."How does a grandmother deal with losing those with whom she devoted so much of her time?"My heart died with them," says Brode. "They were precious angels. My life will never be the same."For Angela and Todd Sandefer of McAdoo, the death of daughter Carissa, 24, is just too hard to accept."She was a loving girl. She loved life," says Todd. He talks of a difficult time trying to accept Carissa's passing and not knowing how to heal his broken heart.Carissa died on May 8, Mother's Day.What next?Former Tamaqua councilman Justin Startzel says the candlelight walk from the Bungalow to the former CVS Pharmacy is a step in the right direction."Drugs have been epidemic for a long time but people are just starting to do something about it."In a keynote address at Bungalow Park pavilion, William Stauffer, executive director of Pennsylvania Recovery Organizations Alliance, says solutions must be found. Jail, he says, isn't the answer."We can't incarcerate ourselves out of this problem. We need to find ways to deal with it."Treatment and education are the key, Stauffer says, and federal block grants offer some promise, but funding has been cut.Stauffer has firsthand experience with the issue. He told the crowd he's in recovery from addiction and has lost family members and friends to drugs.Another in recovery, Travis Snyder, encourages everyone to hug the person to the left and right in a show of unconditional love. It's a first step toward healing.To end the night on a positive note, volunteer DJ Harry Sipler of McAdoo, owner of Harry C Productions, spins entertainment as participants enjoy pizza and refreshments.Before departing, family members ignite small blocks of wax fuel carefully nestled inside purple wishing lanterns. When released silently into the night, they float gently upward, piercing a black sky, reaching aloft with a kiss of light to dear hearts gone much too soon."They were good kids," says a tearful parent, gazing upward. "But now they're gone."