In the fall of 2006, David Lee Edwards and his wife, Shawna, decorated their front door for Halloween. But if trick-or-treaters made it to the couple's home, a storage unit in Riviera Beach, no plastic ghost was as scary as what they'd have found inside: two pale, withered junkies from Kentucky living amid dirty clothes, rotting food, and their own filth.
And these were lottery winners.
Today, with David on what could be his deathbed and much of his $27 million prize squandered on big-boy toys and drugs, the saga of the Edwards clan is like the Beverly Hillbillies replayed as tragedy.
To a modern-day Euripides, the point would be that those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make suddenly rich.
The Edwards' story is all the more compelling because of the distance the family traveled, like a rocket that shoots into space and, slowly at first, then faster and faster, tum
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