By Paul Martin
In Bakersfield, California Soluna Lora dropped off her two-year-old son, Ezekiel, with his father on June 3, 2023. The little boy adored his dad. He loved following him around the house and riding in the car with him.
Soluna never saw Ezekiel alive again. Kern County detectives later found fentanyl residue on a low piece of furniture in his father’s room. Just within reach of a toddler’s hands.
Cooper Noriega was 19. A social media influencer, with an aspiring career. Like millions of Americans, he struggled with anxiety. On June 9, 2022, he was on his way to a bible study in Los Angeles and decided to buy a Xanax from a trusted source. He died in his car minutes later. The indictment shows the dealer later texted the kingpin: “[m]y boy just died yesterday…[s]houldn’t be selling shit with fentanyl.”
Fentanyl is now the leading cause of death for Americans aged 18-45. According to a UCLA study, over 20 high school students die each week. America’s Poison Centers reports fentanyl exposure in children under 6 jumped from 10 cases in 2016 to 539 in 2023.
Hundreds of children like Ezekiel, every single year.
They die in one of two ways. A user overdoses on fentanyl similar to a user who overdoses on methamphetamine or cocaine. And then there are those like Ezekiel and Cooper.
The sinister reality of fentanyl is many of the deaths are poisonings, not overdoses. A 2019-2021 study by the Centers for Disease Control found that nearly 25% of fentanyl deaths for those ages 10-19 were due to counterfeit pills. Teens experimenting. Casual users taking what they think is a prescription pill. Then dropping dead.
I have the honor of working with Ezekiel’s aunt, Kia, and Cooper’s father, Harold. They are fighting for justice, as would you and I—like any family member whose loved one was a victim of injustice. Their argument cannot be debated in my view—out of greed, willfully and fully aware of the risks, people manufacture and sell fentanyl, killing thousands each year.
Harold said recently, “We’ve not in denial that our son made a choice and took a Xanax…but he didn’t have to die.”
I sometimes say it’s like deciding to have a beer, and dying from it.
For nearly two years, I’ve spoken with hundreds about this crisis, from bereaved family members to advocates like me. Some focus on supply, others on demand. What strikes me is a group that, often with passion, declares that we shouldn’t worry about supply. That it’s “futile.” Nothing we can do. Instead, we must focus on education, treatment, and harm reduction—that “as long as there is demand, there will always be supply.”
I always then ask these people whether it’s futile to fight the supply of trafficked minors, because of the demand for sex. Or if we should stop pursuing white-collar criminals because of demand for riches. Should we throw in the towel on thwarting terrorism, because bad guys will always be out there?
Not just that. We’ve seen a correlation. Sam Quinones in his book The Least of These writes,
The fentanyl-death outbreak of 2006 ceased with the closure of Distribuidora Talios. When supply halted, deaths fell. By 2007, the worst US fentanyl crisis up to that point ended. It was an example of supply reduction as the best harm reduction.
United Against Fentanyl fights on both fronts.
Because, yes we must fund treatment of substance use disorder. Yes, we must provide harm reduction. And, yes we should crush stigma. And…yes, we must work to stop bad actors in China and Mexico, as well as dealers, from peddling poison.
Across the nation today, we are actively supporting families, building a grassroots movement, and demanding justice for victims like Ezekiel and Cooper.
And we are advocating for treating demand, and stopping supply.
Because we must.
