When I was growing up, we had an AA kid in the school from 4th grade on. He was my nemesis in grade school, became a friend in HS, and my best friend after I got home from the Army. He did a lot of pot, but tapered waaaay down in the last few years. He even was working at a local program for troubled youth/families. About two months ago, he was working at the center on an overnight shift. Apparently, he felt sick and went into the bathroom . . . and never came out. He had a massive heart attack. His first heart attack, and his last. He was three days younger than I.
No, he wasn't really a primitive-type, either. But it scared the Hell out of me, and unsettled me. I'm still somewhat unsettled from it. I'll survive; I've got my wife and daughter to ensure that.
It scared--and still scares--the Hell out of me.