[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 162 (2016), Part 12]
[EXTEN]
[Pages 16713-16715]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




     RECOGNIZING FAMILIES AFFECTED BY THE NATIONAL OPIOID EPIDEMIC

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. ANN M. KUSTER

                            of new hampshire

                    in the house of representatives

                       Thursday, December 8, 2016

  Ms. KUSTER. Mr. Speaker, it is my honor to include in the Record 
today the personal stories of families from across the country that 
have been affected by the opioid and heroin epidemic. In the U.S. we 
lose 129 lives per day to opioid and heroin overdose. In my home state 
of New Hampshire I have learned so many heartbreaking stories of great 
people and families who have suffered from the effects of substance use 
disorder.
  Earlier this year, my colleagues and I were joined by many of these 
courageous families who came to Washington to share their stories with 
Members of Congress and push for action that will prevent overdoses and 
save lives. Since then, we passed both the Comprehensive Addiction and 
Recovery Act and the 21st Century Cures Act to provide much needed 
funding and critical policy changes to fight this epidemic.
  The advocacy of these families truly is so important to leading to 
change in Washington and I am proud to preserve their stories.


           James R. Masciantonio, Jr.--Indian Shores, Florida

       James R. Masciantonio, Jr. (Jim) was born November 27, 
     1984. He was beautiful inside and out and a true gentleman. 
     Jim was kind, loving, intelligent, and could always make me 
     laugh with his witty sense of humor and contagious laughter.
       Jim was first put in ice skates at the age of three, and he 
     went on to play ice hockey all through high school. Jim 
     excelled at everything he tried. He had an unbelievable 
     ability to totally recall life events, movie quotes, and 
     sport statistics--he was a walking encyclopedia. Jim also had 
     a true gift of writing narratives and an imagination to write 
     creatively. He was later given the opportunity to conduct 
     interviews for the cagejunkies.com, which reports on MMA and 
     UFC News; this job was a true highlight in Jim's life.
       Unfortunately, Jim had the dreadful disease of addiction, 
     coupled with bipolar disorder. Jim first started using 
     marijuana at the age of 11 and graduated to heroin by 17. He 
     finally found recovery in 2009, at the age of 26, and was 
     dedicated to the program. Soon after, Jim fell in love and 
     fathered a child in May of 2010. He was a proud, dedicated, 
     wonderful, and loving father--filled with goals and dreams 
     for his son.
       In February 2011, Jim needed to have surgery. In the 
     following months, Jim's recovery slowly became no longer a 
     priority, due to dealing with stresses caused by pain from 
     his surgery, demands of work, and family life. By December 
     2011, his girlfriend requested for him to leave their home--
     separating Jim from his son. From that day Jim was 
     heartbroken, defeated, and lost, as he struggled to get back 
     on the path to recovery. There were countless hurdles and 
     obstacles he had to overcome and, like the warrior he was, he 
     tried his hardest.
       The system failed Jim repeatedly. From the time he was 18, 
     Jim was in over 35 treatment centers. The Florida County Drug 
     Court, created to give my son an opportunity for recovery, 
     ended up making his life worse. On February 24, 2015, Jim 
     suffered his first overdose on heroin. The paramedics worked 
     on him for an hour, finally taking him to a Florida hospital 
     that allowed him to leave against medical advice (AMA) after 
     an hour of being there. His family was never contacted or 
     told about this incident. Three days later, on February 27th, 
     Jim was found alone in a motel after injecting heroin but 
     this time the heroin was laced with fentanyl.
       Jim was clean and sober for six months prior to these 
     incidents.

[[Page 16714]]




                  Miles Anthony McEntee--Austin, Texas

       Miles was everything a parent could ask for in a son. He 
     was sensitive and caring. He loved animals and they loved 
     him. He enjoyed music and fishing; particularly ice fishing 
     with his dad and stepmom. He was a passionate skateboarder 
     and was very good at it. Miles was close to his cousins and 
     younger sister, Taylor.
       While in high school, Miles experienced serious pain, which 
     stemmed from breaking the scaphoid bone in his wrist. He 
     celebrated his 21st birthday in a hospital bed, recovering 
     from surgery. Even after three surgical procedures, Miles 
     still had considerable pain and very limited range of motion 
     in his wrist. Miles started a ``Go Fund Me'' campaign to 
     raise money for physical therapy and to hopefully see another 
     doctor but it never happened; he was all out of money.
       Miles then discovered a cheap alternative for his pain 
     relief, black tar heroin, and soon the pain didn't matter 
     anymore. Things got out of hand very quickly. Miles lost 
     jobs, wrecked his car and moved into the dining room of his 
     mother's one bedroom apartment. His mother knew that as long 
     as he was under her roof, she knew he was safe. His mother 
     spent countless sleepless nights worrying about him riding 
     his bike or skateboarding home from work in the middle of the 
     night.
       As she looks back over the year or so he lived with her, 
     things were mostly wonderful. We were very close. We had a 
     similar sense of humor and shared many laughs. He was my best 
     friend and always did his best to make sure his mama was 
     okay. He made sure I had food everyday. Many nights, Miles 
     would bring home pizza on the bus after his shift working at 
     a pizza parlor: We would talk, eat and laugh. We loved 
     watching storms together--Miles dreamed of being a 
     meteorologist, something he was never able to become due to 
     his addiction.
       In a very short time Miles became addicted. He told his 
     mother he wanted to stop using because of the challenges that 
     came with it and many of his friends were dying. They did not 
     have the money to get him into treatment.
       After a while, things seemed to be getting better for 
     Miles. He moved into an apartment with his sister. She was 
     not aware he was using heroin. On the morning of June 2, 
     2015, Miles' sister woke up and found Miles in his room. He 
     was already gone. Just 18 days before his 25th birthday.


                  Lawrence (Larry) McNeill--New York,
                                New York

       Larry McNeill was amazing, charming, funny, popular and a 
     extremely talented drummer. Larry was very close with his 
     twin sister. They planned out their lives together. When they 
     were very little and said their prayers at night, they used 
     to ask God if they could ``go to heaven at the same time'' 
     because they couldn't stand the thought of either one of them 
     having to live without the other.
       Larry's sister received a phone call the night Larry 
     overdosed and was told that he wasn't going to make it. When 
     Larry died, a big part of her died with him. All of their 
     hopes, their dreams; she had lost her best friend. Larry 
     struggled with drugs for many years but it was their family 
     secret. They had nowhere to go to for help and didn't know 
     what to do. They lived in fear--knowing that Larry was going 
     to die and there wasn't anything they could do about it.
       Larry had a son (he was one year old when Larry died), who 
     was then adopted and raised by his sister. At the age of 
     fourteen, his son started smoking weed and couldn't stop. 
     Larry's sister wasn't going to let this happen again. She was 
     able to get help and he went into a residential treatment 
     program. Today he is clean and sober and Larry's sister is 
     proud of him.
       Because of everything that the Popper family had been 
     through, Larry's sister shares his story with as many 
     families as possible--they need to know that they are not 
     alone in this. Families need to know that they can get help 
     for their loved ones who are struggling with this disease. 
     Larry's sister works in advertising and has created anti-drug 
     commercials for ONDCP and The Partnership for Drug Free Kids. 
     She has also been a Parent Coach for the Partnership, helping 
     families that call their hotline. She wants to do whatever 
     she can to ensure that no family goes through what her family 
     did.


                   Brian Mendell--New York, New York

       Brian was a loving child, full of smiles and light. Like so 
     many children, as he entered his teenage years, Brian tried 
     marijuana. And like far too many, this led to experimentation 
     with drugs to which he became addicted. For almost ten years, 
     Brian battled the disease of addiction and struggled through 
     its cycle of shame, isolation and failure. During that same 
     time, Brian's father and family were also fighting to 
     navigate the complex and confusing web of treatment programs 
     and therapies. If you know someone who has struggled with 
     addiction, you know all too well the pain and anguish of 
     watching a loved one in the clutches of this disease.
       Through it all, Brian remained loving and compassionate, 
     and expressed that no one should have to suffer through this 
     devastating disease. During a visit home in the summer of 
     2011, Brian and his father were sitting on the back porch one 
     night when Brian spoke about the stigma of addiction and the 
     shame he felt:
       Dad, 300 years ago they burned women on stakes in Salem, 
     Massachusetts because they thought they were witches. Later 
     they learned they weren't and stopped. Someday, people will 
     realize that I have a disease and that I am trying my 
     hardest.
       This turned out to be Brian's last visit home. Four months 
     later, in the middle of the night on October 20, 2011, 
     Brian's father got the call that is every parent's worst 
     nightmare. Brian was dead.
       Brian's passing was, and continues to be, excruciatingly 
     painful for his father. Perhaps just as tragic is the fact 
     that it was not just the physical addiction that claimed 
     Brian's life, but also the shame that Brian felt every 
     morning when he opened his eyes and felt the weight of this 
     disease. That same shame led Brian to wake up that morning in 
     October, research suicide notes online, light a candle and 
     take his own life. He died alone.
       Brian died of a disease that afflicts more than 22 million 
     Americans every day, as well as tens of millions of family 
     members that love them. That's one quarter of American 
     families. Over 370 people die every day from addiction 
     related causes, shattering countless lives. Like Brian, the 
     majority of those with substance abuse disorder (nearly 8 out 
     of 10) develop this disease before they turn 18 while their 
     brains are still developing. We, as a society, are not 
     protecting our children when they are most vulnerable to 
     becoming addicted and unable to protect themselves. Evidence-
     based methodologies exist that could have saved Brian and 
     countless others like him, but they are not being implemented 
     in our communities and schools.
       Addiction should be treated like the chronic disease it is. 
     Communities should be offering evidence-based and tangible 
     resources for prevention, treatment and recovery. As a 
     society, we need to foster tolerance and compassion, and 
     dismantle the discrimination and judgment associated with 
     this devastating disease.


                Zachary (Zach) Morgan--Phoenix, Arizona

       Zachary (Zach) Morgan struggled with drug addiction, went 
     through rehabilitation, relapsed after a period of sobriety, 
     continued to battle his addiction, and ultimately lost his 
     life in a drug-related shooting in 2009. He is more than just 
     one of the 129 people who are losing their lives to this 
     epidemic.
       Zach was the oldest of three siblings. He always seemed to 
     be saving or hugging just about everyone. Zach took his 
     ``cool older brother'' persona into high school too. He was a 
     member of the National Honor Society, active in youth group, 
     a community volunteer, and a lifeguard. He swam and played 
     football, basketball and golf. Zach was someone people felt 
     they could talk to because he was understanding and 
     compassionate. He always had a big grin, an open mind and the 
     best hugs.
       In high school, Zach became friends with a group of kids 
     who he thought would relieve him of the ``good kid'' labels. 
     At 15, this group of friends introduced Zach to marijuana. 
     Despite our open household and the ease of conversation 
     within our family, Zach began to use marijuana more 
     frequently, which led him to become closed off and secretive. 
     After Zach was arrested for drug possession at the age of 16, 
     his parents decided to place him into rehabilitation at 17 
     and moved him to a different high school. This transition was 
     difficult for the entire family. At home, Zach found himself 
     in a new family dynamic and at school, he had new friends, 
     new classes, and new dress codes.
       As Zach's addiction hung over his family, they decided it 
     would be best to move to Arizona for a fresh start. Around 
     the time of the big move, Zach began to spend time with the 
     same group of friends that had gotten him into trouble in the 
     first place. He started using drugs again, and his drug use 
     followed to Arizona.
       After a combination of several police visits, calls from 
     the high school and strange visitors--my brother left our 
     home and dropped out of high school before graduation. He 
     moved to Flagstaff, which is well-known in Arizona for its 
     drug scene. On December 23, 2009, Zach was shot and killed by 
     a fellow heroin user. His entire family was shattered and in 
     the midst of their grief, they had to go through the grueling 
     process of a trial against Zach's murderer. Zach was only 21 
     years old.


                      Adam J. Nolan--Chardon, Ohio

       Adam J. Nolan, whom was raised by his grandmother, Carole, 
     passed away on November 17, 2012, from a heroin overdose. 
     Adam would have been 20 years old the following month. Adam 
     was a very talented musician and artist. He could make 
     friends with anyone and was very well liked among his peers. 
     Adam was an absolute joy to be around when he was not using 
     heroin.
       Adam had been in treatment many times and participated in 
     various Intensive Outpatient Programs (IOPs); he received 
     just about every kind of treatment that was available at the 
     time. After being out of jail for almost three weeks, Adam 
     tried hard not to respond to the calling of the drug but, in 
     the end, it was too much for him to resist.
       On November 17th, Carole received a call from the local 
     hospital saying that Adam

[[Page 16715]]

     had been taken there. When she arrived at the hospital, 
     Carole found out that Adam was already dead; he died in 
     another heroin user's house after falling asleep in a chair.
       The day Adam died he had come home for a shower and Carole 
     took him back to the house he was staying at. Before she 
     dropped him off, Adam told her he wished he could go around 
     to schools and tell kids: ``Do not take heroin, not even one 
     time; as it is the worst thing in the world. It hooks you in 
     even the first time.'' When Carole dropped him off, she told 
     Adam that she loved him; two hours later Adam was gone. He 
     never got the opportunity to tell his story, but maybe his 
     death can be used to stop someone who is thinking of trying 
     heroin for the first time.
       Adam was very much loved and is greatly missed.


                     Cora Marie O'Leary--Pawtucket,
                              Rhode Island

       Cora Marie O'Leary was born on October 5, 1994. She was her 
     parents second child and first daughter. Growing up, Cora was 
     so fun. She was spunky and never wanted to be like the ``in'' 
     crowd; she danced to her own beat. We knew early on she would 
     be special. Cora learned the love of reading, along with her 
     brother, as I read to them every night before bed. Her love 
     of reading became something very special between her and I. 
     One of my favorite memories is when we went to one of Jodi 
     Picoult's readings, met her, and got her autograph. Cora 
     would barely study or do homework, yet still aced tests and 
     classes.
       Cora was 16 the first time she tried heroin. Cora started 
     to seclude herself from everyone and everything, well before 
     she even dropped out of school. She then attempted suicide in 
     her high school's gym locker room with her best friend. From 
     that point on, the bullying started. People made fun of her 
     for trying to take her life and as a result she started to 
     self harm, and cut herself. This led to more bullying. When 
     she was younger, Cora was a cheerleader and a dancer. Cora 
     quit dance when she was young because she wanted to spend 
     more time with friends. Cora eventually went to an all star 
     gym for maybe a week, only to quit when she felt secluded 
     because she ``wore too much eyeliner'' and was ``too goth''.
       Cora left Rhode Island to enter a treatment center in 
     Florida and moving in with her grandparents afterward. Cora 
     later moved back to Rhode Island and moved in with a new 
     boyfriend; one who tried everything he could to help keep her 
     sober and off of heroin.
       Cora found a way out to get the drugs while her boyfriend 
     was at work, causing fights with her boyfriend, who was 
     trying to help her. Cora then moved in with her aunt and got 
     a job--only to use when she got her first paycheck. She had 
     been back in Rhode Island for only 52 days. On the night of 
     Friday, August 5, 2016, Cora was to go out with her friend. 
     As the friend sat in the driveway waiting for Cora, she 
     called me in a panic because Cora wouldn't answer the door or 
     her phone and everything was locked to the house. Everyone 
     was afraid to call 9-1-1, because if Cora wasn't using again 
     she would be mad that we didn't trust her.
       Cora was found by her cousin in the upstairs bathroom of 
     her aunt's house. The safest place she could possibly be. He 
     called 9-1-1. Even Narcan didn't work this time as it had 
     eight times before. She became one of the 129 on August 5, 
     2016. Our lives are forever changed.


                     Kent Edwards--Phoenix, Arizona

       Kent Edwards, 18 years old, died of an accidental 
     prescription drug overdose in 2003. One night during his 
     sophomore year of high school, Kent called his mother to say 
     that he was out with some friends and wasn't coming home that 
     night. He was calling because he didn't want to worry his 
     mother, but when they hung up she knew something was wrong. 
     Kent's mother waited for him when he came home at 6:00 a.m.
       Life changed for the Kent's family that morning. Kent went 
     to the doctor and tested positive for substances. His family 
     restricted and monitored Kent's activities. They made a lot 
     of changes that next year and Kent adjusted fairly well. He 
     transferred schools and graduated with ease. Kent got a job 
     he loved and spent time with his friends and family. His 
     family thought they had dodged the bullet--Kent didn't want 
     to be addicted to drugs so they mistakenly thought they were 
     in the clear. It seemed that all was well, but Kent's family 
     didn't know any better.
       Before Kent turned 18, he was scheduled to have his wisdom 
     teeth removed. His mother filled the prescription before his 
     surgery. As she was looking at the bottles, she noticed that 
     one of them had fewer pills in it than the other. When she 
     confronted Kent about it he admitted to having taken some.
       She asked Kent why and his answer was chilling. He asked 
     his mother to think about a time in her life when she had 
     felt ``Great''--``The Best.'' When she nodded Kent said, 
     ``The first time you get high, it's better than that. It 
     feels so good that you want to feel that way again--only it's 
     physically, chemically impossible.'' He explained how the 
     drugs alter your brain chemistry and why people take more and 
     increase their frequency of use in an attempt to get back to 
     the feeling of that first high.
       On a Monday in September, 2003, there was a knock on the 
     Kent's family's door and soon they heard the words: ``Your 
     son has died.''
       Kent and two other kids crushed some Oxycontin and washed 
     them down with beer. Kent got sleepy and the other two left. 
     As Kent slept, the drug slowed his respiratory system down 
     until it stopped completely. His roommate found him the next 
     day--already gone.


            Dylan Bradley Pearson--Saint Francis, Minnesota

       On March 11, 2013, Dylan's mother found out that her only 
     child was using heroin at the age of 18. By the time she 
     found out, heroin had already gotten ahold of him. Over the 
     next year, Dylan was charged with two felonies related to his 
     addiction. He was admitted to three different treatment 
     centers. In May of 2014, while Dylan was staying in a 
     treatment center that he had been furloughed to, Dylan's 
     mother received a phone call from one of his friends saying 
     that Dylan had overdosed and was in the ER. Not knowing 
     whether Dylan was alive or dead made the drive to the ER one 
     of the worst drives in her life. Luckily Dylan survived, but 
     36 hours after being admitted to the hospital, he was sent to 
     jail for 30 days.
       When Dylan was released from jail, he began the same 
     routine of using. Dylan's family tried to help him and keep 
     him at home but there was nothing they could do. They were so 
     desperate that at one point they took turns sitting in front 
     of his room, but when his mother got up for a second, Dylan 
     sprinted out the back door. They were helpless. His parents 
     never gave Dylan money but they let him live at home. Dylan's 
     mother talked to him every single day about his addiction and 
     told him much she loved him. Dylan didn't want to live the 
     life he was leading but he didn't know how to stop.
       In October of 2014, Dylan agreed to go to a treatment 
     center. The moment he arrived, Dylan didn't want to be there 
     anymore. When he walked out of the center, Dylan's mother 
     refused to bring him home. So Dylan partied for a few days in 
     a hotel with some other kids that had been kicked out of the 
     treatment center for using. Dylan then went to a halfway 
     house and waited there while he tried to get into another 
     treatment facility. Dylan received his completion certificate 
     from this treatment center on January 17, 2015, and was 90 
     days clean.
       Dylan tried so hard to stay clean but within a week of 
     being home, he stumbled again. Dylan went to court and was 
     going to be put on probation. Things seemed like they were 
     going to be okay. On the afternoon of January 30th, Dylan's 
     friend called because he needed to get rid of the rest of his 
     dope before he went into treatment. Dylan's mother could tell 
     Dylan was high when she got home from work, but he hung out 
     with her all night and they had fun. Dylan seemed fine when 
     she told him she loved him and went to bed after midnight.
       Dylan went to bed and never woke up. He died on January 
     31st, 2015. In his bed. In his parent's house. His parent's 
     worst nightmare came true--their only child was dead.
       Dylan's mother doesn't remember much about that day, but 
     she does know that her life will never be the same. Every day 
     when she walks into her house, she sees Dylan's shoes sitting 
     on the floor where he kicked them off and his jacket draped 
     across the banister where he left it. They will never have 
     another one of our midnight snacks. Dylan will never have the 
     chance to get married, have kids, travel, and do all of the 
     things that a 19 year old should be experiencing.
       Dylan was quiet, but when he did talk, he was funny. He was 
     a good athlete, loyal, handsome and genuine. Dylan and his 
     mother always knew what the other was thinking and we 
     talked--good talks--all the time. Near the end of his life, 
     his mother sent him what seemed like thousands of texts just 
     making sure that he was ok.
       Dylan's mother keeps thinking that she will wake up and all 
     of this will have been a dream. She cannot put into words the 
     pain that this loss has caused her family. Today, her mission 
     is to help change the system that we currently have. This 
     epidemic has killed too many young men and women. Let's do 
     all we can to help people with substance use disorder access 
     the treatment they need, break the stigma surrounding 
     addiction, and make some real change.

                          ____________________