Powerfall

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, tumbles back to Earth.

Liftoff happened toward the end of the summer of 2001, as much of the country was gripped by Powerball mania. Eighteen drawings had failed to produce a winner in 21 states and the District of Columbia. The Powerball pot had swelled to more than $280 million, the third-biggest in U.S. history.

On Saturday, August 25, David walked into Clark's Pump 'n Shop, a convenience store and gas station in Westwood, Kentucky. He was 46, a high school dropout, an ex-con who had robbed a gas station 20 years before. He'd spent a third of his life behind bars. Now he was on unemployment and owed child support. He had chronic back pain from a 1988 car accident. He lived nearby in Ashland, Kentucky — a fading steel town, population 25,000 — in a home without running water.

He spent $7 on lottery tickets.

That night, when winners were finally drawn, David was one of four, scoring $73.7 million. He could have taken that in annual payments of $2.9 million over 25 years — but that was perhaps too safe, too conservative. Instead, he took a one-time payout of $27 million.

On Monday, August 27, David appeared at the Louisville Slugger Museum in Louisville, Kentucky, to receive his ceremonial check. He had his long hair pulled back in a ponytail and was doing his best to look natural in a suit. Reporters peppered him with questions.

Yes, he'd made some mistakes in life, he said, speaking slowly, trying not to sound too country. Yes, he was no stranger to the inside of a jail cell — but from now on, folks could leave poor out of poor white trash when they referred to David Lee Edwards.

Shawna Maddux, his 27-year-old girlfriend, stood by his side. The mother of three boys, she had her own demons — she already had a history of substance abuse — but under the TV lights at the museum, she looked plump and healthy, if awkward.

"You know, a lot of people, they're out of work. Doesn't have hardly anything," David said solemnly.

"And so I didn't want to accept this money by saying I'm going to get mansions and I'm going to get cars, I'm going to do this and that. I would like to accept it with humility.

"I want this money to last, for me, for my future wife, for my daughter and future generations."

Then he said he had his eye on a Bentley. And Shawna wanted a Ferrari.

"We need a new everything," they said, one repeating after the other.

"We're going to be the new and improved David and Shawna," Shawna predicted.

The day he heard he'd won the lottery, David said, his ex-wife, Gail, remarried.

"Congratulations, hon!" he said, gloating.

The Edwards rocket was accelerating. David sought advice from lawyers in Ashland and hired James Gibbs, a 31-year-old Morgan Stanley broker, as his financial adviser. The first thing Gibbs did was arrange a $200,000 loan so David could celebrate in Las Vegas while awaiting the Powerball payment.

After six days in Vegas, David was broke, says Gibbs, speaking by phone from Ashland. (David Lee Edwards could not be reached to comment for this article.)

When his lottery payment came, on September 10, 2001, David was like a kid in a candy store — that is, a kid whose favorite treat was OxyContin, the narcotic painkiller.

When long-lost acquaintances turned up asking for money, David was generous.

David decided he needed a new home, in a place where his wealth wouldn't be so conspicuous. So in November 2001, he bought a 6,000-square-foot house in a gated golf and tennis community in Palm Beach Gardens. Price: $1.5 million.

David began to travel back and forth from Florida to Kentucky. On several occasions, he spent $8,500 for a private flight. He sometimes brought an entourage.

This was torture for Gibbs: "I'd be over there grittin' my teeth, with the calculator, saying, 'David, you gotta stop this.'