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Charging drug dealers for overdose deaths is controversial. For one family, it brought justice.

2018-07-09T14:39:31Z

Twelve-year-old Jarryn Myers prepares to pitch. Two years ago, Myers lost his father to a heroin overdose. Jarryn helped police to find the man who sold his dad the fatal dose. (Brett Sholtis/Transforming Health)

When it comes to Little League baseball, 12-year-old Jarryn Myers loves to talk about his pitching style.

"I like to throw fast, but not too fast that it goes out of control," he said, seated at a picnic table at the local pool in West Manchester Township, York County. "I like to hit my spots."

His father, Ryan Myers, was a pitcher in high school and played baseball for a year at college. He taught Jarryn how to pitch, worked with him on drills and was his biggest fan at games.

Like many boys, Jarryn bonded with his father through sports. He smiled as he remembered the day his father took him to his first NFL football game when he was 10, where his favorite team, the Baltimore Ravens, defeated the Cincinnati Bengals.

But when he recounted what happened later that day, he struggled to find the right words. That evening, Jarryn found his dad in the bathroom at home with a needle in his arm. His father, who was 30 years old, died in the hospital two days later.

When police wanted to know where Myers bought the fatal dose of heroin, it was Jarryn who helped them. "I knew exactly where we went...so I knew how to help out," he said.

Eighteen-year-old Kevin Cruz-Cuebas of York was arrested and later found guilty of drug delivery resulting in death.

Ryan Myers

That charge had been unheard of until the opioid crisis hit hard in the region, according to Pennsylvania District Attorney Association President John Adams. The case against Cruz-Cuebas is part of a growing push to charge dealers when the they sell drugs that kill someone, Adams said. Since 2013, district attorneys have filed the charge at least 412 times, according to March 2018 data from the Administrative Office of Pennsylvania Courts.

"It finally dawned on us that we need to use this statute as a tool in our toolbox to combat the drug dealers who are distributing the dangerous drugs that cause death," he said.

Not everyone agrees with this approach. Lindsay LaSalle is an attorney with Drug Policy Alliance, a nonprofit fighting the law enforcement trend.

LaSalle said there's no evidence that charging dealers reduces drug sales, drug use or overdose deaths.

There's a disconnect between society's sympathy for users and the way they look at drug sellers, LaSalle said. It's good that society has begun to understand that opioid addiction can happen to anyone. In contrast, those who sell drugs are often still seen through stereotypes. In fact, their circumstances are often as desperate as drug users' circumstances.

"And I think that it plays out along racialized lines," LaSalle said. "And now we see this kind of flip, where you have the compassion for the person who used but you want to throw the hammer at the person who sold. And this is an absolutely false dichotomy. The distinction between user and seller is often patently false."

District Attorney Association president Adams said charging dealers is a useful investigative tool that can help detectives staunch the flow of heroin into a region.

In addition, charging dealers gives families some measure of justice, Adams said.

"I'm going to say that I hope that there is some deterrent effect out there," Adams said. "I'm not quite sure that I can say I can measure that effect."

Cruz-Cuebas couldn't be reached for a recorded interview per York County Prison policy. His attorney didn't respond to requests for comment.

Twelve-year-old Jarryn Myers pitches at a little league game in West Manchester Township, York County. After Myers lost his father to opioid addiction, he helped police to find the dealer who sold his dad the fatal dose. (Brett Sholtis/Transforming Health)

For Jarryn's mother, Suzanne Yorty, Ryan Myers was never someone defined by his drug addiction, even as it spiraled out of control, leading to several stints at rehab.

Long before that first dose, she knew Myers in high school as an outgoing teenager who excelled in school and sports.

Everything changed after he had surgery for a shoulder injury and was prescribed OxyContin, she said.

"If I remember correctly, he went through his prescription in like a week and a half, and he went back to the doctor, and they gave him more," Yorty said.

Nothing will bring Ryan back, including pressing charges against the dealer, Yorty said. But for her, the process has helped her son to take some control of the situation.

It goes back to a promise Jarryn made to his father as he lay in the hospital, a ventilator keeping his lungs breathing.

"He asked everyone to get out of the room...that was when he had his breakdown," she said. "But it wasn't until two days later that he told me what he said. He said, 'I told him that I'm gonna get the bad guy.' So that was very important to carry that out."

Sitting at the picnic table next to his mom, Jarryn looked down as he contemplated what his father might think about everything he's been through and everything he's done to help.

"I don't know," he said, and he paused. "I think he'd be pretty proud."

As overdose deaths rise, more children are growing up without parents

2018-01-30T19:50:39Z

Denise Shanahan, right, walks with her friend and neighbor Mike Schaub, who pushes Jorden and Kaden Shanahan in a stroller. Denise Shanahan is raising her grandchildren after losing her daughter Bryanna to a drug overdose. (Brett Sholtis/Transforming Health)

Jorden Shanahan is like many five-year-olds: He loves playing with toys, laughing at funny TV shows and showing off his drawings and other prized possessions.

They include a picture of his mother, Bryanna, smiling, holding him when he was infant. It's a reminder of one way in which his childhood will differ from many others his age.

Two years ago, when Jorden was three, he found his mother dead of an opioid overdose in her bedroom.

He refers to her as "my mommy who died," or "my mommy in heaven." Her presence is found throughout the house in pictures and home movies, but it stands to reason that Jorden would have almost no memory of her.

"He's been with me since he was two," says his 56-year-old grandmother, Denise Shanahan, who is raising Jorden and his two-year-old brother Kaden at her home in Stewartstown, York County.

Jorden's father also has struggled with heroin addiction, and Shanahan got custody of Jorden while Bryanna was still alive. Shanahan says Kaden never knew his father, and is still too young to understand what happened to his mother.

Shanahan's circumstances are becoming more and more familiar to those on the frontlines of an opioid crisis that took 64,000 lives nationwide in 2016 alone -- a number higher than the death toll of U.S. servicemembers during the Vietnam War.

Early reports show 5,500 Pennsylvanians died of drug overdoses in 2017. That's more than any year on record and continues the year-over-year trend of record overdose deaths.

Nationwide, overdoses have replaced suicide as the number one cause of death for people under 50 years old.

Despite federal and state efforts to address the emergency, experts say overdose deaths are expected to increase in the next couple years before they might begin to level off. That's because people already addicted to prescription drugs are likely to turn to heroin, which is increasingly being laced with powerful synthetic opioids like fentanyl.

It's less clear what all this means for the thousands of children who will grow up without parents, as well as for the grandparents who will spend their last years taking care of those children.

Bryanna Shanahan holds her son Jorden. Bryanna died Dec. 16, 2015 from an overdose of drugs laced with fentanyl. (Submitted)

Shanahan remembers her daughter as a spirited girl who made the mistake of trying prescription drugs when she was 14 years old.

Bryanna didn't know her own father. Shanahan says, she raised Bryanna and her sister as a single mother.

Bryanna was able to get clean for about a year, but eventually returned to heroin.

"We suspected she was using again," Shanahan said. "[My daughter] Krista said, 'Look in her diaper bag.' And the first time I do, there's a needle."

Within a year, Bryanna was dead.

Shanahan worries what effect the loss will have on Jorden and Kaden. She says Bryanna was using drugs while pregnant with Jorden, and although he appears to be unharmed by it, she worries that he could be prone to addiction as he gets older.

She also worries about the psychological fallout from the loss.

"A couple times [Jorden] said he wishes we would die, and I said why, and he said so we can visit her," Shanahan said. "That really gets to you, because they just don't know."

At Olivia's House in York, program director Julia Dunn says sentiments like that are actually quite common for children who have lost a parent.

"Believe it or not, a common feeling in that age group is, I want to be in heaven with my father, or I want to be with him in the afterlife. And they're not saying they're planning to complete suicide. They're saying I want to be with him."

Olivia's House helps children deal with grief and loss. Shanahan says it's been a great resource for Jorden, Kaden and her.

Dunn says as the opioid crisis has worsened, an increasing number of children have come to Olivia's House after losing parents to addiction. Dunn says Olivia's House gets five to ten calls each day, and 75 percent of those calling have lost someone to drugs.

"We're seeing grandparents having to raise their grandchildren because the parent dies to an overdose. And it's always young -- they're three, they're five."

Dunn says for many children, it's an eye-opening experience just learning that they're not the only person who lost a parent. In a recent group, four of five boys had lost a parent to an overdose.

Bryanna Shanahan sits in the hospital after delivering her son Kaden. Her older son Jorden is in the foreground. Bryanna died at age 26 from an opioid overdose. (Submitted)

Marolyn Marford is a child psychologist based in State College. Marford says, though the death of a parent is devastating, all children process things a bit differently.

"We don't know if the child has incorporated that information as something damaging until we observe the child and ask the child what their response is," Marford says.

She says children who have lost a parent to drugs often have already endured experiencing the parent's addiction. "Children can experience a lot of different things. A car accident. Observing violence. Observing their parents in altered states of consciousness. It doesn't necessarily mean they're traumatized by this."

She notes children around five year old Jorden Shanahan's age are just beginning to understand the concept of death. As a child grows older, he or she will revisit what happened and wrestle with what it means to lose a parent.

Denise Shanahan tries not to worry, but she often finds herself paying close attention to her boys and wondering if they're grieving or struggling to understand.

"My biggest thing is, now through life they have not a mother, not a father. I mean, they have people who love them, but not a mother or father."

Real Life l Real Issues: Juvenile Justice

2017-12-28T20:37:44Z

Join us for a behind-the-scenes look into Pennsylvania's Juvenile Justice System on Real Life l Real Issues: Juvenile Justice. Watch as we follow one juvenile offender through the system in Cumberland County and meet key players along the way. How do they work to deter juveniles from entering or reentering the system. This thirty minute documentary broadcasts January 26 at 8:30pm.

Real Life l Real Issues: Juvenile Justice will be followed by an encore broadcast of Frontline: Second Chance Kids. A fight over the fate of juveniles in prison for murder, following a landmark Supreme Court ruling. The film examines the impact of the order to re-evaluate thousands of juvenile murder cases and follows two of the first convicts to be released. Watch Frontline January 26 at 9pm.

See previous stories on this topic...

Midstate women's obituary includes a poem she wrote about addiction struggles

2017-07-07T13:40:43Z

(Photo: Submitted)

(Selingrove) --The parents of a 23-year-old Snyder County woman who overdosed on heroin have included a poem in her obituary that she wrote about struggling with addiction.

The obituary for Delaney Farrell was published in The (Sunbury) Daily Item. The Selinsgrove woman died last Saturday in the bathroom of a hotel where she worked in Williamsport. She'd also been staying in a halfway house.

Farrell's poem begins, "Funny, I don't remember no good dope days. I remember walking for miles in a dope fiend haze."

It ends: "I remember constantly obsessing over my next score but what I remember most is asking God to save me cuz I don't want to do this no more !!!"

Bridget Farrell says she included the poem because it showed what her daughter was going through the last few weeks of her life.

Juvenile Justice: Brandi's Long Road

2017-05-24T08:51:28Z

Real Life Real Issues Juvenile Justice: A prosecutor and judge weigh in

2017-05-24T08:15:14Z

What to look for on Smart Talk Wednesday, May 24, 2017:

WITF's Real Life Real Issues Juvenile Justice series continues on Smart Talk Wednesday as we hear from a judge and a prosecutor talking about the system.

Cumberland County Commons Pleas Court Judge Tom Placey, who hears juvenile cases, and Cumberland County District Attorney David Freed appear on the program.

The juvenile justice system is much different than adult criminal court. Judge Placey explains the differences with perhaps the biggest one being juvenile cases are decided by the judge without a jury. Although, the justice system is an adversarial one between the prosecution and defense, there is much more of a team effort to doing what's right for the crime victim and the juvenile offender.

The district attorney is a big part of that team. Freed tells us that he reviews every juvenile case in Cumberland County to determine how to proceed and what's best for the community, the victim and the offender.

Those we've talked with this week indicate the priority is truly on making sure an offender turns his or her life around and doesn't re-offend. Of course, the safety of the community is also a priority.

As the juvenile justice series continues this week, we look at the role of the family on Thursday's Smart Talk.

Real Life Real Issues: Juvenile Justice series begins

2017-05-22T00:44:21Z

What to look for on Smart Talk Monday, May 22, 2017:

WITF begins a multipart, multimedia Real Life Real Issues series on the juvenile justice system Monday. Smart Talk kicks off the project with an overview of juvenile justice.

Most people don't know much about the juvenile justice system. One of the reasons is that unlike adult criminal court, court proceedings and records are not open to the public. The idea is to protect the identity of the young person accused of a crime or breaking the law.

There are other differences too. A single judge hears juvenile cases with no jury. The probation department, prosecutors and defense attorneys often work together to determine what's best for the young person while taking crime victims and public safety into account as well.

WITF was given unique access into Cumberland's County's juvenile justice system, including following one young woman in the system for six months.

Brandi and her mother

Throughout the week on Smart Talk, we'll hear from a district attorney, a judge, the head of a probation department, a public defender and others.

Appearing on Monday's program are Richard Steele, Executive Director of the Pennsylvania Juvenile Court Judges' Commission, Samuel Miller, Chief Juvenile Probation Officer in Cumberland County and Ron Turo, a juvenile public defender in Cumberland County.

Richard Steele - Executive Director, Pennsylvania Juvenile Court Judges' Commission / Ron Turo - Juvenile Public Defender, Cumberland County / Samuel Miller - Chief Juvenile Probation Officer, Cumberland County

emails

- Do you put abusive or negligence parents on probation as well? Child/ren can't be expected to model behaviour they haven't had the chance to learn. Schools teach lots of do's & don't that may temporarily stop conflict, but that is not conflict resolution. - anon

- The juvenile system does a lot of work for kids in the system helping them with their present situation as well as setting them up for a better future, but what about steps the System and the BAR are doing to prevent children from committing crimes to begin with? Reaching out to Middle and High Schoolers before they commit a crime. - Dominic, Carlisle

Hearing to focus on grandparents in Pa. caught up in the opioid crisis

2017-05-08T08:47:58Z

Photo by Nick Weiss/WITF

FILE PHOTO: Legislators, experts, and some members of the public gathered at the Yorktowne Hotel to discuss solutions to the heroin crisis in Pennsylvania.

(Harrisburg) -- The plight of grandparents caught up in the opioid and heroin epidemic in Pennsylvania is slated to be the topic of a hearing at the state capitol this week.

In 2015, nearly 89,000 grandparents across the state were the primary caregivers for their grandchildren -- a 10 percent increase since 2000, according to data from the U-S Census Bureau.

Chairman of the Center for Rural Pennsylvania, Republican state Senator Gene Yaw of Bradford County, says many grandparents have to take care of their grandchildren because the parents have overdosed or are suffering from addiction.

"That just creates all kinds of problems for them. For example, they really have no legal authority to get medical care for their grandchildren or to put them in school and things like that," he says.

The hearing scheduled Wednesday morning will gather testimony on ways the commonwealth can make it easier for grandparents to assume the role of primary caregivers.

How more lives could be saved from heroin in York County

2017-03-27T22:12:56Z

"I couldn't believe it. Really. I was in shock. I thought for sure I was not going to get a job," said Emily Bielawa, seen here working the register at Brew Cumberland's Best in New Cumberland. The 26-year-old mother of one was required by her participation in drug court to find a job and has been with the coffee shop for nine months. (Photo: Jason Plotkin, York Daily Record)

(York) -- In a York County courtroom, a judge asked Emily Bielawa how things were going.

Smoothly, she said.

"I'm getting used to life without drugs," the 26-year-old mother added.

That life seems drastically different from when she struggled to go more than a few hours without heroin, and when, as a waitress, she would forge tip amounts to pay for the drug. In early March, she was approaching one year clean. She credits that recovery at least in part to a drug treatment court.

"I could be dead," Bielawa said. "The heroin that they have out now ... people are dying left and right."

As part of the program, people facing criminal charges can avoid prison time and have criminal charges dismissed or reduced in exchange for undergoing increased supervision outside of jail. The goal is to address mental health and substance issues that lead to them committing crimes. To graduate, they have to meet many requirements, including attend court sessions regularly, work at least 30 hours a week, comply with random drug tests, pay fines and weekly fees, and attend recommended counseling.

Some state lawmakers, including Democratic Gov. Tom Wolf and a Republican state representative from Luzerne County, are pushing for the expansion of drug courts as a key tool in fighting the heroin and opioid epidemic that claimed more than 100 lives in York County in 2016.

But there's at least one big hurdle: Money. County courts need judges to handle cases and meet with offenders. The courts need attorneys, probation officers and other staff members. Salaries, benefits and other costs could total hundreds of thousand of dollars or a few million dollars, depending on how many people the program accepts.

In York County, it's common for the court system to close off admission to its adult drug court and similar programs, also known as problem-solving or treatment courts. At least one person who died in a heroin-related overdose in 2014 was rejected from drug court months earlier because the program was full.

The county's adult treatment courts are capped at about 365 people total at any one time, which includes 150 in drug court and 150 in DUI court. All the adult treatment courts in York County - not just drug court - help people with heroin and other addictions, and Common Pleas Judge John S. Kennedy said the county has never had trouble filling the programs.

Last year, lawmakers approved a $1 million increase to help the Administrative Office of Pennsylvania Courts expand problem-solving courts statewide. And the governor's budget proposes expanding them further.

Pretty much all the costs for local treatment courts falls under the York County budget, and county commissioners are looking into expansion options. But Kennedy thinks the state should significantly increase its share of funding by closing state prisons, and if it did, York County's treatment courts could help 10 times as many people.

During a treatment court graduation ceremony in December, Kennedy referred to the limits. Looking out at the crowd of treatment graduates and their families, he talked about how he had reviewed the treatment court graduation applications the previous weekend.

"I almost want to cry because we don't have the funding to provide this opportunity to more people," Kennedy told the crowd.

'It works'

York County has more types of problem-solving courts than most counties in Pennsylvania. It has adult drug, DUI, mental health and veterans courts, plus similar programs for juvenile offenders.

Problem-solving courts are designed for tough cases, ones where the people are considered high risk and high need.

Some of those people don't finish the program or relapse after completing the program. York County's adult drug court graduation rate is 44 percent, while its DUI court graduation rate is higher, according to a recent treatment courts report.

Kennedy has gone to funerals for people he knew through a problem-solving court.

"We work with these folks. We 'treat' them," he said. When they die, "we feel a loss," he said.

Still, there are many successes. Kennedy and other backers of problem-solving courts point to research that shows people who complete the programs are less likely to commit crimes in the future.

Susan Byrnes, York County's president commissioner, told the York Daily Record editorial board in January that she has talked with Kennedy and the two other county commissioners about expanding them. In March, she said she did not have a set number in mind for how many more people she wants to add to the programs. But she said she was working on setting up a meeting with court officials and others to pursue expansion. She wants the program to be open to anyone that qualifies.

"I just know that it works," Byrnes said.

Part of the pitch of these programs is that they save lives and save money, because it is more expensive to house people in jails and prisons.

For instance, a 2016 report for York County's treatment courts said the average cost to get someone through drug court is $11,954.

So the 46 graduates of the program in 2016 represented a cost of nearly $550,000. But the report said those 46 still saved taxpayers hundreds of thousands of dollars because the program was cheaper than sending them to jail or prison.

Caps

It's not clear how many people meet the criteria for York County's treatment courts. Information from the York County court system describes 146 referrals to drug court in 2016 and 86 people being admitted. But the caps prevent some people from applying or being considered for the program.

There is no waiting list to get into drug treatment court, Kennedy said. When the court is at capacity, it puts out a notice that it's not accepting any more applicants.

Mark Elliot, 32, figures he has spent about six years in York County Prison on various charges since he was 18. He has done pain pills, Ecstasy, cocaine, crack, meth and heroin. He applied for drug court in December 2015 and again in February 2016 and was rejected both times because the program was full, according to court documents.

Later in 2016, as he was running out of time to continue his cases, he was accepted into the program. Without treatment court, he faced years in state prison on multiple charges, including possession with intent to deliver. Elliot said the supervision in the program is more intense than any of the times he has been out of jail and under court supervision.

The York County drug court program is designed to last 12 to 18 months. If people follow the rules, they can get an incentive, such as applause at one of the court sessions, a gift card to a grocery store or a water bottle. If they don't, sanctions can include increased supervision and time in jail.

If someone finishes the program, felonies generally become misdemeanors and misdemeanors generally are dismissed.

Among other things, for at least the first few months, people in the program must attend weekly court sessions, go to treatment or support groups daily, and meet other obligations. Court appearances and some requirements lessen as you complete different phases of the program, but they don't stop.

"All the things that they make you do, in the beginning, were, you know, a pain. ...And I thought they were just a hassle," Elliot said. But he thinks that structure helped save his life.

Throughout the program, people have to call a phone number that tells them whether they will need to provide a urine sample that day.

Elliot talked about that with Judge Michael E. Bortner during a recent court appearance.

Elliot mentioned he was feeling under the weather, and Bortner, who now handles drug court, said it looked like Elliot was congested. The tone was casual, and Elliot talked about how he was staying away from most medications to avoid any types of false positives on drug tests. Hot tea, they both agreed, was a safe option.

Overall, Bortner was pleased with Elliot's report.

"Keep up the good work," Bortner told him.

The intense supervision that Elliot credits with helping save his life is also one of the hurdles to expanding.

"If we go over the caps, we cannot provide the quality of service that made York County treatment courts a nationally recognized program and a model of success," Michael Stough, a deputy director for York County probation services, said in an email.

For drug court and DUI court, the probation department generally has one probation officer for every 50 people in the program. To expand the number of people in treatment courts, the county would have to add probation officers, judges and case managers, Stough said.

Some magisterial district judges in York County have gone through treatment court training, so they could be available to serve as judges if programs expanded, Kennedy said.

The public defender's and district attorney's offices are both part of treatment court teams.

Tim Barker, an executive supervisor in the county district attorney's office, suggested now is a good time to revisit a strategic plan and what would be required for expansion for York County treatment courts.

Clasina Houtman, first assistant for the public defender's office, said in an email that research shows that a treatment court becomes less effective when the number of participants goes beyond 125 people to 150 people, so her office would support creating an additional drug court with its own team, including a judge.

If you expand a treatment court, you also have to consider whether there will be enough treatment services available in the community, according to P. Karen Blackburn, the Administrative Office of Pennsylvania Courts' problem-solving courts administrator.

State action

More than 100 problem-solving courts exist across Pennsylvania, and there were more than 7,000 participants in problem-solving courts from July 2015 to the end of June 2016, according to AOPC.

For this year's state budget, lawmakers approved an increase to help expand problem-solving courts through AOPC. That funding increased from $103,000 in 2015-16 to $1.1 million this year. For the governor's 2017-18 proposed budget, Wolf proposed continuing that funding amount.

Blackburn said that money is going to help add new problem solving-courts not expand existing ones. She said if funding isn't guaranteed, a court system could hire a probation officer who would be laid off 12 months later.

"You don't want to set programs up to fail because of something like that," Blackburn said.

The funding has allowed the state to pilot a regional drug court in Forest, Elk and Jefferson counties, and expand elsewhere so 53 of 67 in Pennsylvania will have some type of problem-solving court, she said.

More:Drug-related deaths go up for 2016

There are other ideas for ways the state could help with problem-solving courts. For instance:

For the 2017-18 budget, Wolf proposed $3.4 million to expand specialty drug courts, including assistance to communities with existing drug courts, through the Pennsylvania Commission on Crime and Delinquency. That proposal was included under a section of the budget about combating the heroin and opioid epidemic, along with a $10 million proposal to expand access to naloxone, which is used to treat opioid overdoses. Statewide, there were more than 3,300 drug-related overdose deaths in Pennsylvania in 2015, according a report from the Drug Enforcement Administration's Philadelphia Field Division. Heroin was the most frequently identified drug in those deaths.
Earlier this year, state Rep. Aaron Kaufer introduced a package of opioid-related bills. One of them would allow counties to impose a fee up to $250 on anyone who is convicted under the Controlled Substance, Drugs, Device and Cosmetic Act. The money would go toward a special drug court fund in the county. Kaufer did not have estimates for how much funding that would provide.
Kennedy suggested the state could save enough money by closing prisons to give each county court system about $1 million for problem-solving courts. "We send so many people to the state prison system who could be walking across the stage with a transformed life," Kennedy said in December. In January, the Wolf administration announced it would close a state prison in Pittsburgh and save $81 million a year, but the administration did not suggest using that funding for the kind of large-scale increase Kennedy wants. That closure was done because of a decrease in the inmate population and to address an expected budget deficit.

'Beautiful thing'

Bielawa started illegally using painkillers several years ago, and she eventually moved onto cheaper heroin. She stole to pay for drugs.

"It was definitely something I am not proud of. I mean, when you already feel so small as ... an addict and so weak - it just, it made me so much smaller," Bielawa said. "I just thought I would never be able to change, really."

She was arrested on forgery and related charges in York County in 2015, applied for drug court and and was ordered into the program April 2016.

Her life is different now in big and small ways.

She's physically active in a way she wasn't while on drugs. The former high school point guard goes to the gym pretty much every other day. She likes to hike. Bielawa wakes up before 5 a.m. to work at a job she finds fulfilling - an early shift at a coffee shop - and she is planning to go back to college. She feels like a good mom now. She helps her 7-year-old daughter with her homework, goes on bike rides with her and puts her first.

"And ... to just wake up and be happy without the use of drugs - it's a beautiful thing," Bielawa said.

In early March, she completed the second phase of drug court. She is on pace to graduate from the program by the end of the year. It will be a big day for her, if it happens.

And for someone else struggling with addiction, her graduation would open up another spot in drug court.

Heroin-related overdose deaths

The York Daily Record/Sunday News reviewed 127 heroin-related overdose deaths in York County, based on a list provided by the coroner's office, from 2014 and 2015. The review found that several dozen of the people who died had at least one criminal charge in a common pleas court in Pennsylvania. The review found about 10 people who applied for a problem-solving court in their two most recent criminal cases in Pennsylvania.

The listed included:

one person who was rejected in 2010 because she had a detainer in another county from a different case.
another person, who applied for the veterans treatment court and who faced an aggravated assault charge in 2012. Certain crimes involving violence are considered on a case-by-case basis. His rejection letters said that, among other things, the charges were not related to military service, and the nature of the offense was another reason to reject him.
and a man who applied for drug treatment court in September 2013 and was rejected because the program was at capacity. In November 2013, he pleaded guilty on charges of child endangerment and possession of drug paraphernalia. He was sentenced to probation. He died of a drug overdose in March 2014, according to coroner office records.

Another person was rejected twice in 2014. But then charges were reduced, and he was admitted into a treatment court. He died before completing the program.

This story is part of a partnership between WITF and the York Daily Record.

How many have been saved by naloxone in York County?

2017-01-23T16:15:39Z

Photo of the opioid overdose kit to be used by Franklin County Law Enforcement.(Photo: Franklin County District Attorney's Office)

Tracking saves is a difficult task, even as officials realize data is an effective tool to address the opioid epidemic

(York) -- Earlier this month, York City firefighters were sent to the McDonald's on George Street. But they weren't there to fight a fire. The late-morning call was for a drug overdose.

A man inside the restaurant was unresponsive and barely breathing. So a firefighter took out a dose of naloxone, a widely-used drug that reverses the effects of opioid overdoses.

He injected it into the man's thigh, much like an EpiPen allergy shot. Crews put a breathing mask on him. The firefighter gave him another dose of naloxone.

"Shortly after that, he came out of it," said Chad Deardorff, deputy fire chief of York City Fire/Rescue Services.

Saves like that one are becoming increasingly common across York County. First responders -- police officers, EMS and now some firefighters -- are equipped with naloxone and trained to revive someone if an opioid such as heroin causes an overdose.

Emily Weichert, 35, of Spring Garden Township, walked into a press conference where state officials filled prescriptions for naloxone to demonstrate that now, across Pennsylvania, everyone can acquire naloxone at any pharmacy that carries it. Paul Kuehnel

For York City Fire/Rescue, that was the first recorded save, just three days after they started carrying naloxone. The department got a grant to help cover the typically high costs.

But, even as the antidote has become more available, keeping track of the amount of saves county-wide is a difficult task, having eluded even officials who recognize data can be an effective tool as they try to address the heroin epidemic.

"It is being used so broadly and in so many different venues that it is hard to track that data," said Dr. Matthew Howie, medical director of the York City Bureau of Health and newly appointed leader of the York Regional Opiate Collective.

Naloxone is carried in some York County schools. Probation officers last year were trained to use it. York Hospital has it in its emergency department. York's many recovery homes carry doses. Not One More, an organization that raises awareness about heroin's dangers, uses grant money and its own funds to give naloxone to residents and to recovery homes for free.

Pennsylvania Physician General Rachel Levine filled prescriptions so any resident in the state can purchase naloxone at a pharmacy.

Part of Howie's work will be to collect data on naloxone saves as well as identifying other areas where data would be useful in the overall fight against the opioid problem.

"There is a real need to define how big the issue truly is in our area and develop the necessary counter-measures to most effectively respond," Howie said. "However, the number of our residents actively in opioid addiction and abuse is difficult to assess. Naloxone use in the field and in hospitals is one way to quantify the size of the epidemic, though admittedly it is a late marker."

He pointed to a California state dashboard, which uses statistics, maps and other ways of charting its epidemic, as an example of using data, saying that would ultimately be a goal of his and the York opiate collective.

"Our focus is public education," Howie said. "What I really want to focus on is maximizing that linkage to care and linkage to recovery."

Who has what data in York County

The most complete data comes from the York County District Attorney's Office. The office helps fund the county's many police departments that carry the antidote.

In turn, police departments fill out forms for the DA's office as they administer doses, noting the date, the person's age, sex, where the overdose happened and even what evidence, like needles or other drug paraphernalia, was found at the scene.

Officers recorded 232 saves in 2016, including 33 in December alone -- the most in a one-month period since police started carrying naloxone in 2015.

Data is broken down to show the age of the overdose victims, where they overdosed and when. For example, the majority of victims, 67 percent, were males. York City Police administered naloxone 66 times in 2016 compared to 41 by Northern York County Regional Police and 27 by Hanover Borough Police.

The age of victims varied, with many in their 20s, according to the DA's office. The youngest victim was 17; the oldest was 60, the data show.

At York Hospital, 230 doses of naloxone were administered in the emergency department between August 2015 and July 2016, said Dan Carrigan, a Wellspan spokesperson. Those were doses given to all patients -- including, for example, someone experiencing an "altered mental state" which may not be the result of a drug overdose.

"Naloxone is an old drug and we've had it in our treatment for a long time," said Dr. Erik Kochert, interim chair of the emergency department.

Recently, York Hospital has been able to connect people who overdosed to treatment. They have a "warm hand-off" program where they connect someone with the RASE Project, a nonprofit that provides support groups and other treatment for people in addiction.

The department had 17 people connected with the nonprofit in December, Kochert said.

At Memorial Hospital, naloxone was used "about once a week" for people with overdose symptoms, said spokesman Jason McSherry. He was not aware of the hospital tracking how many saves there were.

But pulling out that data -- how many doses were administered at hospitals -- could be problematic.

Technically, someone revived by a police officer and brought in to a hospital might have to be revived again with naloxone, which would lead to duplicate data, officials pointed out.

That could happen because heroin, especially if its mixed with fentanyl, a highly potent synthetic opioid, has a longer half-life and can have lasting impacts on someone's breathing.

No one, so far, has tracked the intricacies involved in this data, Howie said.

Naloxone save reporting concerns

Not One More helps supply recovery homes, said Alyssa Rohrbaugh, the chapter's vice president. Since December 2015, she said, Not One More gave out 600 Narcan kits, which carry two doses each.

When a recovery home uses a dose, they can get a refill from Not One More, without any questions asked.

Rohrbaugh said the majority of the 600 kits were for families; recovery homes don't ask for refills as often, and some houses have never asked.

Rohrbaugh expressed concern if recovery home regulations, which are being discussed on the state level, called for homes to report naloxone saves. Not One More has done a lot to build relationships with the recovery home community, and she said improvements have been occurring internally.

"If you start mandating recovery homes (to report saves), kids aren't going to want to go there," Rohrbaugh said.

There have been naloxone saves at houses, she said, but that doesn't mean a house is performing poorly.

Plus, she said, she's heard of instances where someone nearby a recovery home used a dose for an overdose happening down the street. So she worried about tracking that data.

For Howie, tracking the public usage of naloxone saves is difficult.

He said he'd be able to find out how many doses pharmacies sold, but tracking how many times a dose is actually used to revive someone after it's purchased might be something impossible to track.

"There will always be certain areas that we'll be blinded to," he said.

This story is part of a partnership between WITF and the York Daily Record.

Overdoses in Beaver County linked to use of elephant sedative

2017-01-17T08:16:11Z

FILE PHOTo: This June 2016 photo shows printer ink bottles containing carfentanil imported from China. (Royal Canadian Mounted Police via AP)

(Beaver) -- Authorities in Beaver County are blaming two overdose deaths within the past few months on the victims' abuse of an opioid-based sedative for elephants and other large animals.

County coroner David Gabauer says the deaths, which occurred in Beaver Falls in late November and New Brighton in mid-December, are the first in Pennsylvania to be linked to carfentanil.

Carfentanil is considered 100 times more powerful than fentanyl and 10,000 times stronger than morphine.

Gabauer declined to provide information about the victims, citing the ongoing investigation being conducted by the State Police and the Beaver County District Attorney's office.

The number of overdose deaths linked to carfentanil began raising concerns across the country last year, when the federal Drug Enforcement Administration issued a warning about the potent drug.

Federal prosecutor tackles heroin epidemic that claimed son

2017-01-02T23:07:37Z

Interim U.S. Attorney Bruce Brandler poses for a photograph at his office in Harrisburg. The top federal prosecutor for central and northeastern Pennsylvania announced a strategy to combat the heroin and prescription painkiller epidemic. What few people know is that Bruce Brandler, a veteran prosecutor recently named interim U.S. attorney, lost his own son to a heroin overdose. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)

(Harrisburg) -- The phone at Bruce Brandler's home rang at 3:37 a.m. It was the local hospital. His 16-year-old son was there, and he was in really bad shape.

A suspected heroin overdose, the nurse said.

Brandler didn't believe it. Erik had his problems, but heroin? It seemed impossible.

Nearly 10 years later, the nation is gripped by a spiraling crisis of opioid and heroin abuse -- and Brandler, a veteran federal prosecutor recently promoted to interim U.S. attorney, suddenly finds himself in a position to do something about the scourge that claimed his youngest son's life.

Until now, he has never publicly discussed Erik's overdose death. It was private and just too painful. But Brandler, now the chief federal law enforcement officer for a sprawling judicial district that covers half of Pennsylvania, said he felt a responsibility that came with his new, higher-profile job.

"It's easier to cope with the passage of time, but it never goes away," Brandler told The Associated Press in an interview. "And, frankly, this whole heroin epidemic has brought it to the forefront."

Fatal heroin overdoses have more than quintupled in the years since Brandler lost his son. The illicit drug, along with highly addictive prescription pain relievers like oxycodone and fentanyl -- a substance more powerful than heroin -- now rival car crashes as the leading cause of accidental death in the U.S.

Erik's death proved that heroin doesn't discriminate, Brandler said. He urged parents to "open their eyes" to the threat and talk to their kids.

"I want to evaporate the myth that heroin addicts are just homeless derelicts," said Brandler, who, before his son's overdose, held that impression himself. "This epidemic hits everybody, and I think my situation exemplifies that."

The opioid crisis was already taking root when Brandler began having problems with Erik, the youngest of his three children. The teenager's grades dropped, his friends changed and he began keeping irregular hours. Brandler found marijuana in his room and talked to him about it, figuring that was the extent of his drug use.

Then, in spring 2007, Erik overdosed on Ecstasy and had to be treated at a hospital.

"That elevated it to a different level as far as I was concerned, a much more serious level, and I took what I thought were appropriate steps," Brandler said.

He called the police on his son's dealer, who was prosecuted. That summer, Erik completed an intensive treatment program that included frequent drug testing. Brandler thought his son had turned a corner.

He was mistaken.

On the night of Aug. 18, 2007, Erik and an older friend paid $60 for three bags of heroin. After shooting up, Erik passed out. His breathing became labored, his lips pale. But his companions didn't seek medical treatment, not then and not for hours. Finally, around 3 a.m., they dropped him off at the hospital.

At 5:40 a.m., he was pronounced dead.

This 2007 photo provided by the interim U.S. Attorney Bruce Brandler shows his son Erik. (Bruce Brandler via AP)

Five people were charged criminally, including Erik's friend, who received more than five years in prison.

Brandler still doesn't know why his son, who excelled at tennis, went to a good school and had loads of friends, turned to heroin.

"I thought about that, of course, but it's really a waste of energy and emotions to go down that road because I'll never know the answer," Brandler said from his office near the Pennsylvania Capitol, where a framed photo of Erik -- strapping, shaggy-haired and swinging a tennis racket -- sits on a credenza.

What he can do is join his fellow prosecutors in tackling the problem

In September, the Justice Department ordered all 93 U.S. attorneys across the country to come up with a strategy for combating overdose deaths from heroin and painkillers. Brandler released his plan, covering 3.2 million people in central and northeastern Pennsylvania, last month. Like others, it focuses on prevention, enforcement and treatment.

He said his office will prioritize opioid cases resulting in death, and aggressively prosecute doctors who overprescribe pain pills.

Additionally, prosecutors will hit the road -- bringing physicians, recovering addicts, family members of overdose victims and others with them -- to talk to schools and hard-hit communities.

Parents need to know that "if you think it can't happen to you, it can," Brandler said. "If it happened to me as a federal prosecutor, I think it can happen to anyone, and that's really the message I want to get out."

Federal appeals Judge Thomas Vanaskie said it's a message that needs to be heard.

"Education is the most important thing to me," said Vanaskie, who helps run a court program that gets federal convicts back on their feet and who has been working with a former heroin addict who robbed a bank to feed his addiction. "We've got to prevent people from becoming users."

Vanaskie, who has known Brandler for years, commended him for speaking out.

"Hearing it from him becomes so much more powerful," Vanaskie said. "I know it causes great personal pain on his part, but he personalizes, humanizes this matter."

York County adds executive director for group fighting opioid crisis

2016-12-28T19:27:06Z

Photo by Ben Allen/WITF

Dr. Matt Howie, the new executive director for the York Regional Opiate Collaborative (formerly the York County Heroin Task Force).

(York) -- A midstate county is redoubling its efforts to fight the heroin epidemic - with a $300,000 investment.

York County's Heroin Task Force is changing its name to the York Regional Opiate Collaborative - and adding an executive director.

Nonprofits and an anonymous donor are contributing $100,000 a year for 3 years, to fund the work of the York Regional Opiate Collaborative.

Some of the money will be used to bring on Dr. Matthew Howie as a part-time executive director.

He says he'll work with groups around York to determine what resources are working, where more are needed, and other options for people who want help.

He says data is going to drive his work.

"The only way to be able to effectively communicate what those needs are is to gather that data, and then be able to reflect that back to the folks who make those decisions and say gosh we need more of this or actually we really just need connections between these entities and coordinated efforts between these groups."

Howie says the growing prevalence of the drug fentanyl - which is often cut with heroin and can easily kill - brings more urgency to his work.

"When this is used as one of the materials in there, one of the drugs that's in there, the risk is that much higher. It adds a sense of urgency, I don't know if it really changes a whole lot beyond that," he says.

Dr. Howie - who already works as York City's Medical Director - will also become the public health advisor for the county.

The York County Community Foundation's Memorial Health Fund, WellSpan Health, York County Bar Association, and an anonymous donor are funding the collaborative's expansion.

Midstate dad jailed on charges he supplied teen's heroin

2016-10-11T14:00:27Z

(Lancaster) -- A midstate man is jailed on charges he supplied the heroin that caused his 16-year-old daughter to overdose.

Lancaster police say Kerry Long's daughter survived, but only after paramedics administered four doses of naloxone, a chemical meant to reverse the effects of heroin intoxication.

The 35-year-old Ephrata man reportedly acknowledged supplying the drugs after the girl told police that her father gave her the drugs that led her to overdose at a Lancaster residence Saturday afternoon.

Online court records don't list an attorney for Long, who remained jailed Tuesday unable to post $1 million bail on charges of aggravated assault, corruption of minors, endangering the welfare of children and heroin possession.

He faces a preliminary hearing Oct. 21.

4 centers getting set up in midstate to better coordinate opioid addiction treatment

2016-07-14T17:06:44Z

Photo by Ben Allen/witf

DHS Secretary Ted Dallas says the "Centers of Excellence" will help address the root causes of addiction, not just the surface level issues.

(Harrisburg) -- People addicted to heroin will soon have a chance to get more help in the midstate: the state has selected 4 different sites for "Centers of Excellence".

Behavioral and physical health care providers, care navigators, and people who can help with housing and food will all work at the centers.

The idea is to better coordinate care, and address the root cause of a heroin or other opioid addiction.

"If you don't hit the underlying cause or the root cause and you're only treating the symptom, you're only going to be so successful," says Department of Human Services Secretary Ted Dallas.

"So if that person was abusing drugs because they have a behavioral health problem they're not getting help for, even if we detox them, if we don't help them address that behavioral health issue, the chances that they'll go back to using goes up dramatically."

Maryland, Missouri, Rhode Island, Vermont and Washington have all used similar models.

Dallas says the centers will also provide methadone or another similar drug, which is used to wean people off heroin.

"Medication assisted therapy is emerging as the standard of care and the thing that will treat in the most cost-effective way and most effective way, a substance use disorder, but you have to remember that everybody's different," he adds.

Providers in Berks, Dauphin, Lancaster and York counties won the money to set up the 4 centers. They are: New Directions Treatment Services in Berks, Pennsylvania Counseling Services in Dauphin and York counties, and TW Ponessa & Associates Counseling Services, Inc., in Lancaster.

A total of 20 will be up and running statewide by October 1st, and Secretary Dallas says he expects 4,500 people will come through the doors in the first year.

The state is spending $15 million on the centers, which are primarily for people with Medicaid, but will take private insurance as well.

Dallas is hoping to use more federal money to set up more Centers of Excellence, and expects an answer in mid-August.