Shooting Up chronicles Tepper’s childhood growing up in Madrid’s San Blas neighborhood, where his missionary parents founded a groundbreaking drug rehabilitation center during the height of Spain’s heroin epidemic. It is a tale of addiction, recovery, and loss seen through the eyes of an American boy navigating between his family’s dedication to helping others and the harsh realities of AIDS during a time of needle sharing. With lyrical prose and sharp-eyed honesty, he delivers an exceptionally powerful story of love and compassion. Shooting Up is a quietly devastating coming-of-age memoir that is as unsettling as it is unforgettable—a haunting exploration of belief, belonging, and the costs of sacrifice.
ADVANCE PRAISE "Shooting Up is an extraordinary memoir of a unique childhood among heroin addicts during the AIDS epidemic, but it is a universal story of love and loss that is powerfully moving." George Stephanopoulos, political commentator and Good Morning America and ABC Sunday News anchor
"Shooting Up is an astonishing work that opens your eyes—and your heart—to a whole new world, one that is as beautiful and inspiring as it is gritty and harrowing. Jonathan Tepper is an extraordinarily gifted writer who has somehow managed to write a memoir that is at once heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, and joyous." Amy Chua, Yale Law professor and author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and The Golden Gate
“Jonathan Tepper’s gut-wrenching, inspiring memoir Shooting Up immerses you so deeply in its characters that you feel as if you’re living—and suffering—alongside them... this gorgeously crafted coming-of-age story is both luminous and profoundly humane. An unforgettable read that’s impossible to put down.” Joseph Luzzi, author of My Two Italies and In a Dark Wood: What Dante Taught Me About Grief, Healing, and the Mysteries of Love
“Tepper’s story about addiction, AIDS and his parents’ work with addicts in Spain in the 1990s is a one-off insanely entertaining and wild account. In fact it’s the most riveting memoir I’ve ever read." Frank Schaeffer, author of Crazy for God
BOOK REVIEWS "[An] extraordinary coming-of-age story" -- Spectator
"A terrific story . . . You want an evocative account of the missionary experience? Here it is. A bracing social history of Aids in Spain? It does that too. But if it's misery you're after, look elsewhere. This is a memoir full of hope." The Times
"A remarkable, true-life story about an American family offering salvation in Spain’s slums." "an unadorned coming-of-age memoir rooted in faith and humble acts of service." Our Verdict GET IT Kirkus
"Riveting memoir exploring missionary work, addiction, and human kindness... This rousing memoir chronicles Tepper’s upbringing with his missionary parents" Booklife
"In an age of declining curiosity and shrinking intellects, Tepper shows us a better way. It's rare to read a book that merits comparison with Alcott, Dickens, and Defoe, but he has done it. This book deserves a place on the shelf alongside those classics. It's one of the year's best books." The US Review of Books
"Told in straightforward, inviting prose, the memoir feels nearly like a conversation. It’s genuine and heartfelt and important." Virginia Reeves, longlisted for the Man Booker Prize
I wrote Shooting Up: A Memoir, of Love, Loss and Addiction. I grew up in Madrid in the 1980s, and my parents started a drug rehab among heroin addicts. Almost all had shared needles and were HIV+. They became my older brothers and sisters, and many died of AIDS. The book is a story of love and loss, but it is also a love letter to friends, family, and even learning.
I am the Chief Investment Officer of Prevatt Capital, an asset manager that makes deeply-researched investments in quality companies with a fundamental value-driven approach.
Previously, I founded Variant Perception, a company that provides investment research to asset managers. I started my investing career as an equity analyst at SAC Capital and then as a Vice President in proprietary trading at Bank of America. Along the way, with my friend and partner Turi Munthe, we founded Demotix, a citizen-journalism website and photo agency. We sold Demotix in 2012 to Corbis, a company owned then by Bill Gates.
I earned a BA with Highest Honors in History and Honors in Economics from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. After receiving a Rhodes Scholarship, I earned a M.Litt. in Modern History from the University of Oxford.
It’s been a long time since I finished a book and simply sat for a moment in silence, pondering the effect a brilliant and perceptive author can exert on our understanding of the world. Jonathan Tepper has written a masterpiece of a memoir - it both moves and motivates you to overcome life’s adversities, to live intentionally, and to love unfailingly. I read an Advance Review Copy in 3 days, and was blown away that a finance prodigy (he has written several New York Times business best sellers) can so beautifully distill his childhood memories as the son of missionary parents serving drug addicts in Madrid, in the chaotic and confusing early days of the AIDS virus. The author evinces a singular understanding of the themes that animate our fragile and fleeting lives (love, loss, grief, confusion, redemption, resilience and perseverance). Life has shoved at him powerful reasons to become bitter or cynical; instead, he unflinchingly faces and overcomes the insurmountable to then so poignantly honor the legacy of individuals who demonstrated the best of us as humans. This is a book you will remember…
I was privileged to read an advanced review copy of this moving memoir. On one hand, it's the story of an extraordinary childhood, with Tepper and his brothers suddenly deposited in a depressed and drug-ravaged Madrid neighbourhood. On the other hand, it's an essential memorial to victims of the AIDS epidemic, reminding readers of a time when there was no treatment which could stop a painful death for those infected.
But really want lingers in the mind long after reading are two sets of extraordinary characters. The first are the author's parents, who tread the line between idealism and recklessness. They situate their large family in a desperate situation with little plan beyond their deep faith, and somehow manage to construct an international network of self-sustaining rehabilitation clinics which last to this day. They shrug off dangers to their children and their household with breath-taking alacrity. The other set of memorable characters are the addicts who grow to be leaders of the ministry. Their transformation, the fire of their belief, and finally their courage in the face of death are moving and unforgettable. It's of such credit to the author that his own memoir serves primarily as a testament to these characters, and the people of the neighbourhood, rather than being mainly a story about his own development.
If you're looking to cry in empathy with an author's grief and hardships yet sense an undercurrent of hope, this memoir might be the book for you. Jonathan Tepper grew up as a missionary kid in Madrid, Spain. His parents tried to "save" people for heaven in a new church, but failed. Then they pivoted their ministry to help people overcome heroin addiction, and they slowly grew a church and social service. However, the HIV/AIDS crisis hit in the 1980s, and intravenous drug users were among the most vulnerable groups to the deadly disease. Until HAART treatment mitigated AIDS, Tepper's childhood was spent grieving fellow church members who deteriorated and died.
If that hardship isn't enough, his family experienced some turmoil as well. They experienced personal loss. At times, they had trouble affording missionary school for their children. The children didn't grow up around scientific labs but focused on books alone. Tepper found his world in books, always present in their well-educated parents' home. His father was at Harvard Business School before following a missionary's path, and both parents' love of learning rubbed off in the Tepper children's lives.
To conclude his tale of youth, Tepper became a Rhodes Scholar at the University of North Carolina to study for two years at Oxford University. This scholarship is the most prestigious academic honor in the United States after an undergraduate degree. The entire story, though defined by hardship and death, is told with a resilient hope amidst the grief. Instead of just advertising hardship, it captures universal human themes like finding meaning in suffering.
This book should find a wide readership. It will appeal to religious and philosophical types, those valuing education and self-learning, anyone who loves an underdog story, and public-health types who appreciate the pandemic of HIV in the 1980s and early 1990s. It left me with tears across multiple chapters yet with my heart warmed. There aren't a lot of books about the HIV crisis among intravenous drug users, and this book gratefully fills a gap in the literature about this issue. Above all, it addresses the deep, human question of what to do with too pervasive human suffering. With all these themes coalescing in one tale, I hope the best for its launch.
I was able to read an ARC and have already pre-ordered 2 copies on Amazon.com. Without a doubt I'll be ordering more as gifts.
The author has written with transparency, clarity and in such a way to keep me enthralled page after page. It was seeing a side of the life of ministry among drug addicts in a foreign country. It was an encouragement, challenge and blessing to experience via the written page what God was pleased to do through a family so dedicated to this ministry.
I received an Advance Review Copy (ARC) of Shooting Up… and I’m so grateful I did.
Some books inform. Some impress. This one bears witness.
Jonathan Tepper doesn’t write about addiction from a safe distance or with borrowed outrage. He writes from inside the neighborhood… inside the living room… inside the complicated, holy mess of a family that chose proximity over comfort. He grew up as a boy in San Blas, Madrid, at the epicenter of Europe’s heroin epidemic, where needles were as common as soda cans and the line between danger and daily life was paper thin. And yet this memoir never slips into spectacle. It feels disciplined. Trusting. Earned.
If wine can carry notes of tannin and tension, Shooting Up carries notes of Hemingway and Frank McCourt.
Hemingway, in the restraint. In the clean, unshowy sentences that refuse to beg for emotion and somehow draw it out anyway. The prose has grip. It slows you down. It makes you stay with what’s on the page.
McCourt, in the tension. In the child’s-eye view that allows innocence and brutality to share the same space without explanation or apology. Humor survives here, not as relief, but as evidence that suffering hasn’t won. You laugh… then realize why you’re laughing… and feel the weight of it.
What struck me most is how Tepper writes about his parents’ calling without polishing it into a brochure. Their compassion is beautiful… and costly. Their convictions are real… and sometimes sharp-edged. The mission is stunning… and the collateral is not ignored. That honesty is what gives the book its authority. You’re not being sold a triumph story. You’re being entrusted with a true one.
And the characters linger. Addicts, criminals, mothers, missionaries, friends… rendered with surprising dignity. Even when choices are tragic, the humanity is never stripped away. There are scenes here that stay with you not because they are sensational, but because they are sacred in their honesty.
Shooting Up is gritty and luminous.
Sometimes heartbreaking and yet somehow full of joy.
A memoir shaped by addiction, belief, and becoming… yes. But more than that, it’s a witness that something redemptive still finds people, even in the shadows.
I have read an advance review copy of this book. At first it is a bit like a memoir of someone who grew up in a family genuinely devoted to serving others and instilling values in the next generation, without embellishment or self-aggrandizement, and it is quite interesting. But before you realize it, you are in a sobering eyewitness account of love and loss, first of the personal impact of the AIDS crisis in Spain – as an ominous cloud, then a devastating tidal wave – and second, the time when the author’s family became “the others” who experience tragedy. The author weaves the honest journey of a young man growing up exposed to the brokenness of the world into a compelling story of deep love, shattering loss, and profound hope. This is a great book.
This is a moving and powerful story of a young USAmerican growing up in Spain, the son of missionary parents who worked with drug addicts. The story was engaging, keeping me eagerly turning the pages. It is well-written from a literary and stylistic perspective, although I found myself needing to take breaks because it was emotionally intense. (I also lived in Madrid at the same time and knew the family, so the details about some of the sad events were especially impactful to me personally.) I was fascinated, challenged, edified, and humbled. I highly recommend "Shooting Up." Note: I received an Advance Review Copy (ARC), which is how I have already read this yet-to-be-published book (due to be released in February 2026).
I was able to read an advanced copy of this book. One of the best books I have ever read. The writer takes us through a time and a place that few of us have ever thought about or imagined. Through his writings, we gain insight into lives that serve as the ultimate example of the human experience, illustrating what it means to be meaningful, and witness the impact that the most humble of persons can have.
If you want to be challenged with what you have been able to accomplish with your time here on earth, this is the book to do it. Its both humbling, awe-inspiring, and intoxicating. Read it or miss out.
Occasionally, I hear from authors of upcoming books, wondering if I’d be interested in reading and reviewing their work. While not all books catch my eye, something about Shooting Up reminded me of similar stories I’ve read, and I was intrigued to get to know this family’s experiences, and hopeful of an encouraging, uplifting read.
What I didn’t expect was how much I would find myself in these pages. Like Jonathan, I grew up as something of a “missionary’s kid”, and though our lived experiences are quite different, I could relate to having a preacher father and not being sure in which culture I really belong after a while. As Jonathan put it, he was too Spanish to be American, and too American to be fully Spanish—it’s an awkward position to be in, but it’s also a beautiful thing to learn and hopefully keep the best from multiple cultures!
I did struggle with this story, though, despite loving the setting and unusual history it contains. There were little things I didn’t appreciate, such as mentions of looking at what I would consider pornography (or talking about a more innocent picture as if it were pornography), or the occasional bit of language.
From a broader perspective, I struggled with the faith element of the book. As someone who loves Jesus, I have read many biographies or memoirs of missionaries over the years, and I find their faith and love for Jesus inspiring and uplifting. For some reason, I didn’t get that same sense with this story. Though there was hope for physical help and change throughout the book, it always felt like we were getting the perspective of an outside observer. I loved seeing how the gospel transformed Raul and Jambri’s lives, but was saddened that the gospel didn’t seem to touch the author’s life in the same way—so for that reason, I struggled, on the whole, to connect with the narration in this story.
Even though I may not agree with the author on faith issues, I did appreciate the way he related some of the more difficult parts of his story. The subtitle of the book hints at loss, and while I can’t go into it for fear of giving spoilers, I can say that that part of the story deeply touched me. Having lived through something similar, I found it fascinating to relive parts of my experience through Jonathan’s eyes. My heart broke for this family, and gave me pause to reflect on what my family has walked through—and reminded me again of how much I have to be thankful for. Of the many different stories related in this book, this was the part I connected with the most, and I was grateful Jonathan was willing to work through it all again to share it with us.
I found this story to be a fascinating portrait of Spain at a unique time in Spanish history. As a Christian, I found the story of this family’s work to start a church and help people who were dying from drugs and AIDS encouraging. I also value the perspective we are given on the importance of choosing the literature that shapes our world, and I loved that reading was a main facet of the Tepper family culture. If you enjoy reading memoirs, especially ones about people who have vastly different lived experiences from “normal”, you’d probably enjoy this book.
I was given a complimentary copy of this book, and this is my honest opinion of it.
Though not ordinarily a topic I would gravitate towards, an email review request from the author intrigued me. How could a memoir about drug addicts and HIV in the 1980s and 1990s possibly have a hopeful slant? But Jonathan Tepper was right; I was wrong.
This story truly begins with a Harvard student's LSD trip when he sees a vision for his life's work - to be a missionary devoted to helping drug addicts get clean. The student is the author's father, who then moves his wife and four young sons to an impoverished neighborhood in Madrid. Living off unpredictable and sometimes meager church contributions, the entire family begins recruiting local addicts (who are sometimes also convicted criminals) off the street to share their home and food, to get treatment, and to find God.
Shooting Up details the author's life over the next roughly dozen years. The children attend school only when finances permit. Much of their education comes from home-schooling, provided by two parents who encourage them to follow their individual passions. Fortunately, these are intellectually curious kids with strong self-motivation. Perhaps not surprising when their father chose unlikely books to read aloud to them, like Dante Alighieri's THE DIVINE COMEDY, Thomas à Kempis's THE IMITATION OF CHRIST, John Bryan's PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, and Saint Augustine's CONFESSIONS and THE CITY OF GOD.
At the same time, these children have to share both their parents with a growing community of people with many needs. Not easy for children who often feel they come second to their parents' missionary work.
The boys have few peers. Most of their close friends are the adults that surround them, those trying to stay clean and rebuild their lives. Yet these friendships offer the boys surprising depth and structure.
As the treatment program expands (it is now the organization called Betel International), participants grow and change. They find meaningful work. They earn trust from those around them. They get second chances. Even find love. All reasons for hope, even when the HIV epidemic strikes this population of high-risk former users. Remember, at this time, HIV was thought to be a fatal disease confined to gay men and intravenous drug users.
The book may start out like a basic first person memoir but it quickly becomes much more emotional with the consideration of various weighty topics. It does become more difficult to read (though not as much as I expected) but also deeply encouraging, and yes, hopeful. Fundamentally, it's about our universal humanity and resilience. You will be astounded by the tragic circumstances human beings can survive and also how relentlessly generous and loving they can be.
There were moments when I questioned the laissez-faire childrearing style of these parents, particularly in such a challenging setting. But more often, I couldn't help but admire them.
Shooting Up is without question the most compelling memoir I have ever read. There's so much to think about. The deep glimpse inside the world of addiction. The devastation brought by HIV. The fascinating exploration of how this unconventional family launches such important humanitarian work abroad. And perhaps the biggest takeaway of all - the recognition that criminals and drug addicts, those we so often stigmatized, are just like the rest of us. They respond to kindness, honor responsibilities, offer friendship, and behave generously. We all just want to be loved.
It’s impossible for me to write an objective review. While the Tepper boys grew up in Madrid, I lived 90 minutes away, observing from a distance the birth of Betel and the heroes that emerged. Thank you, Jonathan, for sharing your side of the story, and for capturing the essence and life of each of your friends and family. You ignited amazing memories for me, many of which you described just as I remember them.
“It is the love of family, of friends, and even the love of learning that changes the world around us, and most importantly transforms us. It is love that makes us who we are and makes us whole.” & /// “We don't do it alone. It is our family and friends who give us the tools to become ourselves. …And even when they are gone, we hear their familiar voices speaking, encouraging, and guiding us.”
I truly have no words for how breathtaking this book is. Every page is eye opening, raw, honest, and offers a lesson in love, loss, faith and hope. The entire book reads as an intimate love letter to childhood, to growing up, to friends and family, and to humanity on its best and worst days.
My grandmother’s brother died during the AIDS epidemic, and while I’ve heard my family accounts of what this was like for them as Cuban immigrants, this book allowed me to reach a new, unique understanding of the disease and epidemic as a whole. It was a difficult read but a necessary one, and im appreciative that the account was raw and honest if also hard to encounter. It also offered a glimpse into and knowledge of addiction I would not have imagined having had I not read this book. I feel truly enlightened on so many topics (beyond these two) and grateful I was able to expand my understanding in so many ways through this book. I felt myself growing in eagerness to learn about so many topics I had not given much thought to prior.
Truly, I am SO happy I stumbled upon this book and feel both gut wrenched and inspired having finished it. Jonathon’s own gratitude for his upbringing and heartbreak for his losses seeps into every page, and I found myself often crying alongside him, a testament to the power his story as well as writing has. Perhaps the most powerful lines in the book come from the epilogue (which I reread a few times and will surely return to) — “I wanted to tell my friends stories. I hope the memory of my friends might be a blessing to others.” It absolutely was for me, and I know will be for so many others <3
Shooting Up is truly captivating and an amazing account of a unique upbringing. I couldn’t put it down and was at once inspired, encouraged, grief stricken and renewed as the pages evolved. Please read and come to understand that “the answer is always more love”.
I was fortunate to receive an advance review copy of Shooting Up. Tepper's exquisite mixture of the topics of the depravity of drug abuse, the tragedy of loss, the nobility of sacrificial service, the beauty of redemption and the value of family culminates in the most exhilarating story I've ever read. And to think it was real! I thoroughly enjoyed the literary style and vocabulary. Refreshingly real, to the point and eloquently presented.
Thanks for giving us a window into your life and choices that formed you, Mr. Tepper. My spirit was beautifully enlightened, my heart deeply touched, and my mind just a bit jealous that I had not walked a more difficult and disciplined path to reach such heights.
My favorite quote: “Suffering itself is meaningless. It is our response to it that gives it meaning, and that is not an easy task. The answer to suffering is always more love.”
Excellent book! I seldom finish a book in two days, but this book was different. The writing style is riveting, but more than that the message of hope and helping was deeply touching. Thank you for writing this, Jonathan!
A week ago I finished this memoir. It had me laughing, crying, pondering my own life. The writing was gripping, clear and laced with the attractive dynamics of Spanish.
The moral of the story gave a plausible perspective to the tectonic changes of now, for the author is both trained historian and practical economist. His formative grounding immersed him in his parents’ practice of Presbyterian social work. This , combined with his fastidious abilities in procuring accurate sources, make this account remarkable.
The book opens with him, aged 7 and his brothers (sounding Mexican but looking Swedish) handing out evangelical, homemade leaflets to heroin addicts in San Blas Madrid. On these is the invitation of ‘Ven’ with their home address.
This interactive social engagement in a childhood of the 1980s & 90s was the solid rock which fed his infectious hunger to understand all the intricate workings of the world from encyclopaedias, egged on by equally gifted brothers. Later the three of them would be graduating from Oxford on the same day, with Timothy their youngest brother with them in spirit.
Who would teach, in any of our great schools of finance , that a sound business model could involve being of sacrificial service, with an open invitation of love as central motto, to outcasts of the streets? Who would imagine that having a robust practice of music could also become essential to understanding the rudiments of success?
The story tells us of the addicts who become part of his family in the district of San Blas Madrid some of whom later continue to co -lead in the running of their Addiction centre. Some had been so hooked, they had stolen from their mothers or been made so ill by weakened immune systems, that having some relief in being cared for in the final stages of terminal illness, was the most they could hope for.
The Teppers housed, healed and mourned them , encouraging them to turn towards Christ and away from drug addiction . That old expression of ‘mi casa e su casa’ has forever altered its meaning for me after reading this.
It made me ponder the tragedy of contemporary life. We are educated to think that what is unpredictable and messy in life (as well as in death ) needs to be eradicated. The burden of social care of human beings is often shrouded from view, if not quantified , regulated and monetised.
What we uncover here, on the other hand, is that this burden could be the epitome of our being. In not abnegating responsibility, we are indeed nurturing our own spirit, which is our true and priceless asset. To comprehend such a transformational fire, we might then witness such growth and active light within.
The mass of humanity now seems regarded by the current dominant system as being non vital, expensive, expendable, obsolete and lumbering, whether we be outcast addicts or not. The miracle in evidence here is that an old fashioned thing called love, which becomes present when a fellow vulnerable human is held to the heart and words are recited of solace along with acts of ablutions and maintenance. These are beyond any financial benchmarks of companies. Daily requirements appear unglamorous as described here, but we will realise them as they are invaluable and irreplaceable and one day we and our most precious loved ones will be in need them too. If there is any such a thing as a divine, these acts of compassion are just that. The author describes such states of being in himself when he tragically loses a few of his closest loved ones.
Seeing the author apply himself to the study of history and old languages, not exactly business oriented pursuits, is illuminating. From this his hands-on feeling for the evolution of ideas has been distilled. We see the major moments of crisis and the times of challenge to both culture and society in a new light. I learned from him of characters like Castlereagh and Canning born of the peripheral lands in Ulster and their role in the reshaping of continental Europe in the early 19th century. This was a fresh find, being from Ireland myself and ignorant of their historical impact. The author’s knowledge of languages like the Ladina (medieval Spanish Hebrew) and the early Italian poetry of Dante, is a delight to encounter, capturing an energy and beauty of our past oral and written histories, mostly neglected now.
The lessons I gleaned from the book (as well as from the previous book (The Myth of Capitalism) confirmed my own bias and interest. I tend to favour nature and the organic far above machine or synthetic culture. To create my own analogy as inspired from his story, I might say it is like needing to be an agronomist in order to run a successful patisserie. So if you are interested in producing a strong business in the production of decent apple strudel , first you should develop mineral rich soil in order reduce drought risks and get optimum nutrients in your apples; then you need to consider the spectrum of flavonoids in your grain, maybe a perennial rye, for your quality pastry . So the cultivation of orchards and old grains, yields long term quality rather than short term quantity.
This all seems common sense yet ignorance and lack of scholarship seems to be our perennial undoing through the ages. Economics is but one branch on the tree of ecological life, so wiser to care for roots, to love both the tree and humanity as a whole, so we each can blossom in abundance.
Thank you to NetGalley and Infinite Books for providing me with an ARC of this book. All opinions are my own.
It’s not often that you read a book that mirrors so many parts of your own life. I believe the author and I are part of a very small group of people who can say we were raised by missionary parents who worked with heroin addicts. And yet, I count myself extraordinarily privileged to have been protected from much of what the author witnessed, as he lived in a time when so many were killed by AIDS/HIV.
I have to thank the author for writing this book, the memory of his friends shared in these pages is truly a gift. The way the author interrogates doubt, faith, and love is clear-eyed and honest. His descriptions of his parents—flawed, but led by a fierce love and compassion, were moving. The writing in this book is unembellished, but it succeeds at painting a larger-than-life picture of the community that shaped the author into who he is. The sense of place is so strongly conveyed, the descriptions of individual people, and the grief of their loss, are so deeply felt. This is memoir writing at its finest, the kind of memoir that makes you turn over stones in your own life, examining the moments that formed you and the questions that linger.
This is an incredible book, not only because of the story that is being told, but because of the undercurrents of truth that speak so deeply to the human experience. It is one that will stay with me for a long time.
Shooting Up is a non-fiction account of Jonathan Tepper’s upbringing in a missionary family in San Blas, Spain. His parents devoted their lives to rehabilitating heroin addicts.
What makes the book particularly compelling is its structure. The writing grows more emotional as Tepper experiences the loss of friends and family. It leaves you conflicted. At first, I was almost revolted by the upbringing his parents chose for their children, but over time I found myself genuinely admiring the values of love, respect, and care for others that they managed to instill.
An incredible read of a family that built their life around helping others and one that really pushes you to reflect on your own life and what it means to be more altruistic.
A beautifully written book about an extraordinary childhood. Jonathan Tepper writes about his experience growing up the child of American missionaries in Madrid as they built a system of drug rehabilitation centers. He describes being sent to walk through neighborhoods to find addicts to hand flyers to as a young child, being home schooled when money wasn't available to send he and his brothers to school, learning about HIV and AIDS in the early days of the epidemic, and the relationships he and his family built with people going through their centers who became like family. It is a beautiful story about trust in the good in people and a focus on life beyond oneself. I had to wipe away tears on his family's loss but came away with admiration for the author and his entire family's kindnesses and achievements. A beautiful read.
This is one of the best books I have read in a long time. I couldn’t put it down. It was encouraging to my heart and emboldened my faith. I highly recommend it.
This is a book that will stay with me for a very long time. Jonathan tells his story with such insight, grace, and compassion that I found myself moved from tears to laughter.
More than once, I’ve repeated his mother’s parting words to him when she dropped him off at university: “If you need any final words of wisdom from me now, then I haven’t done my job of raising you well.” (my paraphrase)
I even read snippets aloud to my children, who kept asking for "just one more page" whenever reading time was over. It’s that kind of book—warm, wise, and quietly unforgettable.
Shooting Up is a story of devastating loss - of the closest family, of friends, of a generation of heroin users in the teeth of the AIDS pandemic. It is a record of lives lost and a memoir of childhood, but it’s also a remarkable coming-of-age story. The loss in Jonathan Tepper’s astonishing book is transformative - the forge of a hard-won wisdom rooted in gratitude, hope, and wonder at humanity’s resilience and capacity for good.
I’ve read several accounts of the lives of missionary families, but nothing quite as brutally honest, raw and told through the eyes of a 7 year old growing through his young adulthood during Madrid’s HIV and AIDs coming of age. Filled with heartbreak, faith, courage, and tragedy, we grow with the Tepper family and their growing family of “yonkies” in a message of love and more love. A powerful memoir.
A needle-sharp memoir from Jonathan Tepper, taking a heady and brutal journey through and beyond the addict-scarred streets of 80s and 90s Madrid. You can take the missionary kid out of the ghetto, but you can't stop him writing a book as compelling and as beautiful as this one. (ARC)
Before we start this review, I want to take the time and thank Jonathan Tepper for sending me a free copy of this book to read and review. I always try to be neutral about the books I read and review no matter if I am reviewing an author I hate, love or I am brand new to. And this review wont be any different even thou I got a free copy of this book.
The plot in this book is very interesting and engaging for me personally. I personally am not religious, but I found Jonathan Tepper’s life which we get told in this book very interesting. Jonathan Tepper was a kid to missionary parents who moved to Spain and started centers to help drug addicts to get clean through religion, kindness, love and physical work of recovering old furniture people would donate to the centers.
A returning theme of this book is love, kindness and never losing the aspect of being hopeful. This book is very moving and emotional because Jonathan Tepper had grown up with drug addicts as his brothers and sisters because his parents were missionaries in Spain, and a lot of them had AIDS before medication for it was even created. So Jonathan Tepper describes that a lot of the drug addicts who had AIDS but who he also seen as good friends would die. So growing up he would struggle with the sense of death and how unfair death can be because even his younger brother had died in a fatal car crash.
At the same time the book has motivated me (at the very least) to overcome life’s adversities. Because the best thing we can do when someone close to us die is to keep living our lives and be as happy and hopeful as we can to honor their memories because real friends and family members would want us to be happy and not spend our entire lives in misery. This book also shows us that no matter what happens to us, we still have a chance at a good tomorrow as long as we don’t lose hope for a better future.
This book also gave me a lot of things to think about which I personally haven’t thought about before reading this book. The big theme of this book is of course helping other people who are struggling, and this book shows that we dont have to have tons of money or have the perfect life ourselves to help others. Sometimes the best help we can give other people who are struggling is to give them love, kindness, compassion and hope that they can get out of the bad places they have gotten into.
This book talks about HIV crisis amongst drug users in Madrid, Spain in the 1980s. All the books I have read about this topic didnt exactly give examples of lives where a person was struggling in real time with being a drug user / ex-drug user who have gotten HIV from being a drug user. And this book gives us exactly that, which made me pretty hard to read at times because of how honest and clear Jonathan Tepper was in this book. And because of it I just couldn’t stop reading this book, because it found to be SO interesting. Because this book shows how challenging it is to live with the illness, but also how challenging it can be to live along side drug addicts who are HIV positive while trying to help them.
Because of the heavy and emotional plot this book has, it has a lot of heartbreaking and depression moments yet Jonathan Tepper is able to also give us joyful and hopeful moments through this book. Which made it a very good read for me personally.
At the same time this book has a huge underdog vibe to it, because Jonathan Tepper and his real siblings didnt have a lot of money growing up, because they were a missionary family and most of the income their got from church or donations would go to the centers his parents created. Jonathan Tepper shows in this book that there was a period of time where this parents could send all of their kids to school, so they have also sent to school his oldest bother and Jonathan Tepper with his 2 other siblings would be homeschooled for a while. But he was still able to get accepted to a university in USA and eventually start his own company. And even thou his family didnt have a lot of money, they had some books at home which their parents would share with him and his siblings, which has ignited the urge in Jonathan Tepper and his siblings to be curious about learning and teach themselves things they were interested in.
I personally am not a religious person, but I feel pretty happy that other people who have struggled much more than me personally could find help and guidance from God which helped them to overcome their addictions. This book also talks about religion a fair share, and the topic which have resonated with me personally is that you dont have to agree with everything that the religion say, you can choose to believe in the good parts and still call yourself religious.
This book also talks about the fact that having missionary parents can be pretty hard at times, because the missionary parents can at times feel like they are spending more time with other people than their kids and that the parents belong more to other people than to their kids. Because of how much the missionary parents want to help other people who are struggling.
The writing style in this book is very good, because this book talks about some very heavy stuff, but the writing style in this book made it easier for me to read about those heavy stuff. Because the writing style in this book has something to it that made me feel that good things were just around the corner and not make me too depressed reading this book. The writing style was very easygoing and good, because it was in Jonathan Tepper’s perspective.
To end this review, I want to thank Jonathan Tepper again for the free copy. And say that this book is easily the best book I have read so far this year.
This is an important book. A memoir of Jonathan’s unusual childhood, his parents having been called to serve the drug addicts in Madrid in the 1980’s as Christian missionaries. His home life was soon shared with addicts, exposed to their chaotic lifestyles, criminality and pain, more so when the community was then consumed by the AIDS epidemic. The hope that he and his family brought into a dark world has been immeasurable. But at a cost. The service that Jonathan’s parents have given to the vision and development of what is now Betel International is truly commendable, and in fact I would love to read their stories too. Churches have rightly, for generations, sent missionaries to heal a hurting world, always at great cost to the individuals. But there can be a broader impact on the lives around them, which includes the children. They especially may not have chosen the path of a missionary and it is important for supporting churches to remember this. Jonathan and his brothers suffered in not knowing where they fit in. To their 'home' country or their 'host' country? What is their first language? Culturally? As a young child, Jonathan had to grow up very fast. Exposed to the lifestyle that surrounds the desperation of drug addiction, he quickly saw past the facade that often challenges our 'nice' Christian lifestyles, seeing souls as Jesus saw them, desperate people fighting the demons of addiction. Together they walked through the painful process of coming off drugs, into a place of freedom and restoration, physically and spiritually, that brought them together in deep friendships. But in the height of the AIDS epidemic, as they begin to pass away, Jonathan was regularly surrounded by tragedy. Many passed with hope, the hope of a better life to follow, but those left behind were grieving, and Jonathan experienced more than a lifetime’s grief through his childhood years. But as if this was not enough, a family tragedy also challenged them to the core, as well as rocking his own faith. Faith is a personal journey, and the more hard fought it is then the more precious it is. We can't inherit the faith of our parents. Yes, they can introduce us and nurture us, pointing us in the right direction. But faith needs to be our own. It needs to be discovered, ruminated and digested to create our own taste experience, our own nutrients, a personal sustenance. Shooting Up is a very well written book. Its brutal honesty makes it. It is no surprise to learn that Jonathan is exceptionally well-read, reflected in his writing style. I wouldn't be surprised if there are many more words within him, waiting to be let loose on a page. I hope that in writing this, there was something cathartic in the process. A healing that Jonathan could glean from getting it all down on paper. I think so. He does not look back on the experiences through rose tinted glasses – there is too much pain and grief for that. But it was foundational and formational to who he has become and I hope there are no regrets. He says that 'books shaped him". That they did, but they also gave him an escape. In books he could find comfort, peace and balm for his profound grief. Books enabled him to escape his childhood, to understand it and to become the man he was meant to be, his own man. A word of warning for more sensitive readers. This book does not hold back, and in my view it would be selling itself short if it did. There are upsetting scenes of loss and grief, drug use and occasional swearing. It is wholly in context and a reflection of the world that the author was immersed in. But some of the language is more explicit than the usual Christian books I review. See more reviews of Christian books at https://www.robseabrook.com/category/...
Shooting Up is Jonathan Tepper’s memoir of growing up as a blond American missionary kid in San Blas, a rough working class neighborhood in Madrid that became one of Europe’s main heroin markets during the AIDS crisis. He moves from childhood scenes of handing out tracts to yonkis in the park to the birth and growth of Betel, his parents’ faith based rehab community, and then into the years when AIDS, overdoses, jail, and sheer bad luck tear through the people they love. The book blends family story, street life, and spiritual struggle and it slowly tracks how those experiences shape Tepper’s own sense of faith, vocation, and home.
On the surface, the voice is very calm and clear, almost plain, yet underneath I could feel grief and shock moving like a current. Tepper writes about heroin, dirty syringes, and AIDS wards with a reporter’s eye and a son’s heart, and that mix hit me hard. The early chapters, where the kids fold pamphlets at the coffee table and then walk out among needles on the ground, feel almost playful until you realize what you are actually seeing. I liked how he lets small details carry the weight, like the sound of the lifts rattling in a housing block or a junkie’s burnt fingers from falling asleep with a cigarette. The style stays very readable, but it is not simple; it keeps coming back to the same people, the same corners of San Blas, and each return adds another layer of history and hurt. I thought of them long after a chapter ended, as if they were people I knew and might meet again.
I also liked the way the book handles faith and power. Missionary stories often slide into self-congratulation; this one does not. Tepper shows the costs of his parents’ calling on everyone in the family, and he lets the contradictions sit in the open. I admired his father’s courage and stubborn love, and at the same time, I felt uneasy at how the boys had so little say in the life they were given. The book lets me feel both things at once and does not tidy it up with easy lessons. I appreciated that the addicts are never just “souls to save” or cautionary tales; they are friends, tormentors, stand in uncles, people with awful choices and a strange kind of honor. The scenes in the rehabs and hospitals, and the constant roll call of who relapses, who disappears, who dies, left me tired in a good way, like I had walked a long road with them. When the narrative jumps forward, and we see what became of Betel and of Tepper himself, it felt earned.
I came away thinking of this book as both a love letter and a lament. It is a love letter to a very broken neighborhood, to parents who were flawed and brave, and to the addicts who trusted them enough to risk change. It is a lament for the lives that burned out in the years when heroin and AIDS cut through Spain and the state and the church were slow to respond. I would recommend Shooting Up to readers who care about memoir, about addiction and recovery, about faith lived in messy real life rather than in slogans. It will suit anyone who wants a story that is gripping and easy to read but not easy to shake off, and who is willing to sit with pain, compassion, and complicated gratitude all at once.
Shooting Up: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Addiction by Jonathan Tepper, is a remarkable memoir written by the son of an American Presbyterian missionary family who lived in San Blas, a drug ravaged slum in Madrid.
In 1985 Elliott and Mary Tepper, together with their four sons, arrived in Madrid during the midst of one of Europe’s worst heroin epidemics. Jonathan was the second oldest of four boys, and the story is told from his prospective. The Tepper’s early meetings were held in their living room, helping drug addicts, then expanded into an organization called Betel. As time went on, Betel wasn’t in just one place—they worked in shops, farms, even chicken barns. It became an international organization that has helped more than 200,000 addicts. Betel’s international headquarters is still in Madrid.
This story is about Betel’s beginnings and one family’s struggle and ultimate success in bringing hope and love to people ravaged by HIV and AIDS. (While HIV is a virus that may cause an infection, AIDS, which is short for acquired immunodeficiency syndrome, is a disease. Contracting HIV can lead to the development of AIDS, or stage 3 HIV, a complex condition with varying symptoms.) Many of Jonathan’s friends were ex-addicts who transformed their lives as a result of the Teppers missionary work. Jonathan was especially close to two of these friends, Raúl and Jambri, charismatic ex-addicts twice his age from whom he learned many of life’s lessons.
Growing up among drug addicts influenced Jonathan, as did his father’s love of literature’s classics. Jonathan and his family experienced many tragic losses, even within their own family, but they rallied and relied on their faith to bring love and encouragement to others.
Shooting Up is an extraordinary memoir of hope and promise. It’s a brutally honest story about an oppressively cruel disease. It’s also about love, love of God and subsequently love of all people, not just those like us, but people who despair, who need help even when they don’t want it, or who can’t see their way clear to ask for it. Jonathan’s story spans from 1985 through the 1990s, from his childhood to his college experience in North Carolina. It’s a memoir of a unique childhood, of the horror of addiction, and of the power of love. Shooting Up is not a particularly religious story, but rather a story borne of love for our fellow man, a precept of Christian beliefs.
Tepper's searing portrayal of life among the outcasts of 1980s San Blas captures the smells, the sounds, the light and love of a Madrid childhood like no other. Born to missionary parents who founded the BETEL drug rehab charity, Tepper writes with an unconscious elegance that fuses the emotional honesty of a child with the hard-won wisdom of a parent. Cursed by AIDS but resurrected by faith and purpose, the story of Raul and Jambri will live long in the hearts of readers. Who can say their best childhood friends were addicts? What lessons can we learn from a family motivated by the purest form of love: opening up their home to the helpless? At the beginning there is no plan, no funding - just faith and purpose. This dogged determination speaks to a higher truth: by simply placing one foot in front of the other, we can all find a way home. While rooted in faith, this is not an overtly religious book; it's unsentimental glare down the barrel of life, an unflinching portrayal of death and resurrection that obliquely mirrors the Christ narrative. The text is laced with wonderful quotes, many of them scripture, but also CS Lewis and others. My personal favourite was 'What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?' Matthew 16:26. Jesus asks believers to 'take up their cross and follow me,' and in the addicts of San Blas we find a real life reflection: a legion of lost souls who find redemption by helping others. The little boy who shot up has distilled their sacrificial truth into something remarkable.
Shooting Up is a raw memoir of an American boy growing up in Spain during the height of the heroin epidemic and the AIDS crisis. Told through the eyes of a missionary kid, the story centers on Betel, the Christ-centered residential rehab and work program his parents founded. The book refuses to romanticize ministry, showing instead how heartbreaking, exhausting, and uncertain the work can be—marked by relapse, loss, and the daily nearness of suffering. Faith here is not tidy or triumphant, but lived out in the midst of chaos and grief.
And yet, Shooting Up is deeply inspiring. Without minimizing the cost, it bears witness to a Jesus who meets people in their brokenness and to a kind of faith that stays when it would be easier to leave. The memoir invites readers to reckon honestly with what loving the lost requires, while still calling them to give their lives fully, for Jesus, and for those the world would rather ignore.