Temecula Dad's Ongoing Battle To Save His Son From Fentanyl

TEMECULA, CA — Jeremy Leahy's 23-year-old son is addicted to fentanyl. The 42-year-old father and business owner said he feels helpless watching his former Temecula Valley High School student living "like a zombie" in filth amid the city's homeless encampments and neighborhood streets.

It's hell, Leahy explained.

"I can't sleep. I don't like to eat because I know he's not," Leahy said. "It haunts me 24/7. It's like watching your child drown."

(At Leahy's request, his son's name is omitted from this article.)

It's been a years-long, unsuccessful battle to save his boy. Before fentanyl, his son had dalliances with other narcotics, according to Leahy.

"There were drug dealers at Ronald Reagan Sports Park, across the street from my son's high school," he said.

Marijuana, cocaine, but then in 2020 — long after high school — the fentanyl use began, but Leahy doesn't think his kid sought out the deadly drug.

"In the beginning, I don't think he knew. He probably thought he was taking something else, and it was laced with fentanyl. Now he's addicted," Leahy said. "Fentanyl is in everything."

Riverside County law enforcement agencies have repeatedly warned that fentanyl is commonly found in black-market drugs because the synthetic opioid is extremely inexpensive to manufacture and it gets users hooked. Many buyers are unaware, according to the officials.

"Fentanyl is a powerful synthetic opioid that is similar to morphine but is 50 to 100 times more potent," according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

"The brain adapts to the drug, diminishing its sensitivity, making it hard to feel pleasure from anything besides the drug," according to NIDA. "When people become addicted, drug seeking and drug use take over their lives."

It only takes about 2 milligrams of fentanyl to kill a human. In 2021, more than 400 people who willingly — or unwillingly — took fentanyl died from the drug in Riverside County, according to Jose Arballo, spokesperson for Riverside University Health System. By April, there were already 135 fentanyl deaths in 2022 — more than half of the county's 227 overdose deaths.

Leahy's son should have died many times over from fentanyl poisoning, but naloxone medication — which rapidly reverses an opioid overdose — has saved him, according to Leahy. First responders across Riverside County now carry the antidote (also known as Narcan nasal spray) due to the high number of fentanyl overdoses they're seeing.

Leahy said he knows of many times his son was revived, "and probably a lot more that I don't."

Riverside County's top law enforcement officers are now pursuing murder charges against fentanyl suppliers whose products kill, but the current cases — which number around 20 — don't appear to involve drug kingpins, based on court records.

Leahy thinks the current law enforcement effort does snare small fish but overlooks a bigger problem. The legal system, rehab facilities, and a failed approach to dealing with fentanyl addiction are letting families down, according to the Temecula man.

"It's a revolving door," Leahy said of the legal process. "My son gets locked up, is released within days, maybe hours, and is looking for fentanyl when he gets out. He hasn't even detoxed. He's been in county rehab facilities, ... then he disappears again."

In an effort to save his son, Leahy has worked with police, probation officers, hospitals, counselors, in-patient and out-patient rehabs, homeless outreach, the nonprofit Social Work Action Group and he's written letters to court officials and the governor's office, he said.

The old truism that an addict must first "want to get clean" doesn't necessarily apply to fentanyl users, according to Leahy.

"I don't think my son is capable of thinking that way. Fentanyl has damaged him," he said. "He didn't choose this life.

"It's a drug like nothing before it," Leahy continued. "People who are addicted are out of their minds and will do anything to get it."

Court-mandated involuntary treatment in lockup healthcare facilities to address all issues associated with fentanyl addiction is needed, and the care must be more than just days or weeks, according to Leahy.

He pointed to Florida's Marchman Act passed in 1993. The law provides a means to voluntarily or involuntarily commit those who are struggling with a substance use disorder.

California is too lax amid the fentanyl crisis, according to Leahy.

"My son is sick. He has a disease," he said.

Currently, there's a warrant out for his son's arrest stemming from a parole violation — an assault conviction tied to drugs garnered a prison stay, but that incarceration period was cut short because of California's inmate early-release policy amid COVID, Leahy said Wednesday.

The Temecula dad said he's pleaded with local law enforcement to arrest his kid on the outstanding warrant.

"They're tired of him, and I understand it. They say they don't have the resources to track him down, and they know that as soon as he's arrested he'll be right back out," Leahy said.

The Social Work Action Group is a nonprofit organization that works to get people off the streets and into shelters, including efforts in Temecula.

"For those most vulnerable living on the streets and not necessarily asking for help, we aim to provide services and linkage to substance abuse treatment, behavioral health, and housing stability to achieve independence; an environment that promotes accountability; and a community that offers compassion, support, and hope," according to the nonprofit's website.

SWAG coordinators told Patch whole homeless communities in the region have fallen under the influence of fentanyl, which makes helping them harder.

It's a situation Leahy is painfully familiar with. There's a stigma tied to addiction, he said.

"I know my son would be embarrassed if he really saw his situation. As a kid, he was happy, loved to laugh, and was so particular about his looks," Leahy said.

Now, when Leahy tries to contact his boy, the young man runs off.

"He doesn't want anything to do with me or his family. I never imagined this," Leahy said, worried that fentanyl will kill his child before he's helped.

His son, he said, is now "part of a whole community of people hidden in plain sight."

On Thursday night Leahy got a call that many parents would dread, but it filled him with hope.

"Great news! I just got a call from my son from the Vista Jail," Leahy wrote in an email to Patch. "He said he turned himself in today because he overdosed yesterday. He will be there 5 days and then transferred to the Murrieta Jail for his warrant. I am beyond relieved, for the moment."