Mayor, friend & fatal ‘attraction to opioids’
2 families left to suffer
MOUNT CARBON, Pa, Dec 9, (AP): Janel Firestone found her son – the 24-year-old, just resigned mayor of the Pennsylvania tiny town of Mount Carbon – in what she assumed was a deep sleep. She tried to wake him for his overnight shift at the local supermarket, but he couldn’t be roused, even after she sprinkled him with water from a wet washcloth.
She wasn’t concerned. Brandon Wentz been a heavy, heavy sleeper.
Recent days had been hard for him. The family had just moved to a nearby town, requiring him to give up his office, and he had agonized over his resignation letter. He felt like he was letting his constituents down.
It was a small thing, that letter, but Wentz’s inability to write it reflected his recent struggles.
“You could just see the stress and sadness in him,” recalled his mother.
Wentz finally submitted a rather perfunctory 180 words and met up with a close friend, Ryan Fessler. They hung out in Wentz’s room for a while, and Fessler left.
A few hours later, Firestone tried to roust her son. She gave up, deciding to let him sleep off a migraine. What she did not know was that her son was not sleeping – he was dying of a fatal overdose of heroin and fentanyl.
By the time Firestone found him at 6:30 am the next morning, foaming at the mouth, he was gone.
Wentz
had always
A police investigation was launched into Wentz’s death, and state troopers sought to question Fessler. But they would never get the opportunity. Fessler, too, would die of an overdose less than six months later.
Two friends poisoned by the same deadly cocktail – two families, left to suffer and to question who and how and why.
Wentz’s passing on Nov 9, 2017, came near the end of a year that saw a record number of drug overdose deaths – more than 72,000 nationwide, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Two weeks before Wentz died, President Donald Trump declared the opioid epidemic to be a “public health emergency.”
By that time, fentanyl had emerged as one of the biggest threats. A synthetic opioid both cheap to produce and more powerful than heroin, it has flooded the illicit drug market in recent years. The drug was implicated in two-thirds of Pennsylvania’s 5,456 overdose deaths in 2017, a 150 percent increase in just two years in one of the nation’s hardest-hit states in the ongoing opioid epidemic. Wentz’s family said they never saw it coming. “I never would’ve thought he had an issue,” said Firestone, speaking publicly about the circumstances of her son’s death for the first time. “Brandon made a mistake and paid the ultimate price.”
Wentz had a lot going for him. The young man known to all as “Honcho” was just 22 when he became mayor of Mount Carbon, population 87, a speck of a town in eastern Pennsylvania’s coal region. Wentz, whose grandmother had served as Mount Carbon’s first female mayor in the 1980s, relished the role and took it seriously, fielding constituent concerns and helping the volunteer fire department rebuild after its firehouse burned down.
“We greatly appreciated him. The compassion that he showed for us, I can’t even explain it. It was overwhelming,” said Mary Ann Sadusky, a fire department trustee.
Apart from his mayoral responsibilities, Wentz was a doting older brother, a professional writing major at Kutztown University, a hoops fan who covered the NBA for a sports website. Universally well-liked, he had a wide circle of friends and could make anyone laugh.
“He essentially was a mayor before he became The Mayor,” said a longtime friend, Brandon Radziewicz, who credits Wentz with bringing him out of his shell in high school.
But Wentz had another side. His closest companions were aware he was dabbling in heroin, which they frowned on but felt powerless to do anything about. They didn’t know how often he used drugs, and it was easy to tell themselves he had it under control , it wasn’t that bad or he could make his own decisions. They talked about going to Wentz’s family, but decided to let it go.
Once Ryan Fessler entered Wentz’s life, his behavior became more difficult to ignore.
A couple years older than Wentz, Fessler was artistic and musical, quick-witted and sensitive. He worked a succession of low-wage jobs, but never seemed to have a grand plan for his life.
“He just wanted to do his music,” said his mother, Kim Kramer.
Fessler’s own struggle with drugs started with the prescription painkiller Percocet and then, when that became too expensive and difficult to obtain, shifted to heroin. He asked his mother for money but she refused, knowing where he’d spend it.
By the fall of 2017, Fessler was profoundly addicted – a “lost soul,” according to Julie Sears, a friend from childhood who began dating him that summer.
Fessler and Wentz bonded over drugs, but their friendship went a lot deeper, according to Sears.
“They were the same person,” she said. “They both wrote, they both drew, they would make up funny raps together. They really did want the best for each other.”
Most of Wentz’s longtime friends didn’t see it that way. They were alarmed by his relationship with Fessler.
“He wasn’t a bad person, he was nice, but he had his own demons, too, and demons will invite more demons,” Radziewicz said. “I think they were good at fueling each other’s habits.”
Wentz’s family had no idea he was using opioids, but they could see that his life had taken a turn.
A few months after becoming mayor, Wentz was pulled over by state police, who found a small bag of marijuana and a glass pipe in his Pontiac Grand Prix. Wentz pleaded guilty to DUI and was sentenced to 72 hours in jail. He also lost his driver’s license, which forced Wentz, a commuter student, to take a leave from Kutztown.
It was his first and only brush with the law, aside from a couple traffic tickets, and it affected him deeply. He was upset his classmates were leaving him behind, and disappointed that he had let himself and his family down. He wrote a note from his jail cell, apologizing to his mother for what he had done.
Wentz had suffered anxiety and depression since high school, and now those symptoms grew worse. He began seeing a psychiatrist, but didn’t think the medication was working.