Family left to deal with drug house on their own

Bruce Miller starts his mornings the same way.

He brews coffee and takes the medication he needs to stave off the effects of an inoperable brain tumor.

Then he pulls on disposable gloves and heads outside to scour the front yard for dirty needles.

Miller and his mother, Constance, have lived in their brick ranch on Parsons Avenue since October 2018, but the search for syringes became part of their morning routine only this year, when a nice family moved out of the house across the street and new tenants moved in.

If you have ever wondered what it is like to live directly across the street from a drug house, thank your lucky stars that you don’t. The Millers can tell you what it is like.

They also will tell you that no matter how many times you ask for help from an array of city services, you will start to believe that you are largely on your own.

Since the nightmare neighbors arrived, the Millers’ hopes for a peaceful life on the South Side have withered.

There was the body found at the COTA bus stop across the street one June morning. The man, an apparent overdose victim, was found sitting up, as if staring back at the house that is the bane of the immediate neighborhood.

Another overdose victim made it farther, collapsing on the Millers’ front porch. They were summoned there by a thud, which turned out to be his head hitting their door.

As far as they know, he did not die. Neither did the man who overdosed in the house across the street on Labor Day. Drawn by screaming, Bruce Miller grabbed his supply of overdosereversing naloxone and crossed the street. A man, sweaty and blue, was seated on a couch in a filthy room surrounded by yard equipment, trash and 5-gallon buckets topped off with toilet seats.

Miller, an ER nurse until the brain tumor forced him to go on disability, said his career included years working in a burn unit. Never had he come close to the kind of nausea that swept over him in that house.

He saved the man’s life. And so once the man was conscious, the occupants of the house expressed their thanks by berating Miller for summoning authorities to their address.

The city promptly sent him a new supply of naloxone.

He had not asked for it.

“It’s living in fear, and I don’t like it,” his mother said.

It is also endlessly frustrating. The Millers have waited patiently while two city departments dickered over who must deal with the trash outside the house.

When Bruce Miller complained that 22 people were camping in the home’s front yard, a reply from the city attorney’s office began, “I will need to know whether or not the persons camping on the property are owners or lawful occupants ...”

Was he supposed to have crossed the street at 3 a.m. and collected IDS?

“At this point, it is in fact the criminals running the neighborhood, and the citizens are left to fend for themselves,” he said.

On Sunday, they witnessed yet another incident of domestic violence. Bruce Miller got some of it on video. No one was arrested. Officers told the Millers that they were under orders by police brass, Mayor Andrew J. Ginther’s administration, and City Attorney Zach Klein’s office not to make any misdemeanor arrests. The officers suggested that this was due to

COVID-19 and recent social unrest in the city.

Dumbfounded, Bruce Miller emailed the city attorney’s office again, asking if this was true.

This time, the reply came straight from Klein. He said his office had not issued any such blanket order, and he arranged for the Millers to speak about it and their experiences with his office and other city officials on Friday.

On Wednesday, the day after we spoke, Miller told me that the city had updated him to report that nuisanceabatement proceedings are afoot, a cleanup has been ordered, and a followup inspection is set for next week.

Bruce and Constance Miller dutifully agreed to participate in Friday’s meeting, but they are weary.

They know the cops are under pressure. They understand that addiction is complicated, and that these nuisance-property issues are snarled with legal entanglements.

But Bruce Miller is dealing with a grave health condition, remember. His mother has serious health issues, too.

The last thing they need is this, feeling like they have become political pawns in a game they have no time to play.

Aren’t all these people elected or hired to address these problems, rather than make excuses or point fingers at each other?

“In the end, does it make me feel safe, or does it make my mother who is about to turn 71 feel safe? No. We’re stuck in the middle.

“Will somebody, for the love of God, take ownership of this?” tdecker@dispatch.com @Theodore_decker