'You Don't Know the Face of Heroin Anymore. It's Here. It's Your Community': Michael's Hope Founder

NORTH FORK, NY - Laurel resident Paul Maffetone spent his 27th birthday speaking to a group in Greenport about the night his brother Michael died at 29.

Michael died of a heroin overdose in their family's home — and Maffetone has made it his life's mission to spare other families that devastating pain.

To that end, he created Michael’s Hope, a not-for-profit group organized to raise awareness about the dangers of the escalating heroin crisis that's claiming a sea of lives.

Michael's Hope hosted a free Narcan training Thursday night at the Old Schoolhouse on Front Street in Greenport.

Greenport Village Trustee Doug Roberts spoke to the village board recently about enlisting the help of Michael’s Hope. Roberts and Greenport Village Mayor George Hubbard both agree that anything that can be done to stem the tide of heroin addiction is critical.

“I know it is uncomfortable to talk about but if we pretend that the heroin epidemic has not changed recently or grown in intensity, we are not doing right by our neighbors and kids who may be confronted with a decision to become drug-involved,” Roberts told Patch.”Paul Maffetone and his family have been through something terrible and his selfless dedication to the work of ensuring that another family never has to experience such tragic loss is commendable. I am thrilled that the village is inviting him out to provide this workshop which many in the community have expressed interest in attending.”

Roberts was the only village board member to attend the session.

The meeting began with a presentation by Nicole Chimento, prevention director, demonstrating what to do in the case of a witnessed opioid overdoses.

Stories of heartbreak and hope

Next, Maffetone and his team, including Trevor Murray and Jordan Stierle of Coram, Kristina Amato of Commack, and Samantha Paulus of Port Jefferson, spoke to the group and shared personal and painful stories of heartbreak and hope.

Stierle spoke of waking up after an overdose at the Smith Haven Mall, after being saved by two hits of Narcan. "I didn't wake up and say, 'Wow, these guys just saved my life.' I thought, 'I need to get more drugs.'"

After a long road, 20 institutions and a number of relapses, Stierle has been sober now for six years. "Narcan saved my life," he said.

As did the support and inspiration of the Michael's Hope group, he said.

Stierle said the problem is insidious and spreading. In Farmingville, 11 people were saved in one fire department in one week, he said.

"Everyone says it's not happening but this stuff is real. It's happening."

That's why he and his Michael's Hope teammates are taking their message on the road, speaking to school groups and communities; the group has taken off beyond their wildest imaginings. "This is all coming together," he said. "This is bigger than we can even imagine."

The Narcan training is critical, he said, because saves can happen anywhere, anytime.

Paulus spoke about growing up the girl who never thought she'd do drugs, with parents who were aware of the dangers of addiction and even refused to allow her to fill a prescription for pain medication after having a tooth pulled.

But she began drinking to deal with her grandfather's death and a breakup, and eventually moved on to drugs while in a relationship with someone who used. "One day I decided to get out of the relationship and couldn't stop. I still was unable to admit I had a problem. I thought people did heroin for fun. I couldn't figure out what was going on."

Finally, she learned about the grim realities of addiction and today, wants to use her experiences to help other young people by speaking at schools to educate.

"A year and a half ago I was one of those 'dirtbag heroin addicts'", she said, describing the all-too-often public perception. "My goal is to end that stigma."

Amato described her own experience of having had a traumatic brain injury at 10 and living for years with medication. When a doctor told her she'd never live without medication, she stood strong and found healthier alternatives; she hopes today to help young people find their safe zones. "We're all in this together. Together, we rise," she said.

Murray spoke about his idyllic childhood in Manorville, with a brother he adored and loving parents. Despite his strong foundation, he turned to alcohol and drugs. In rehab, while others around him told heartaching stories of losing parents and sexual abuse, when it was his turn to say why he'd started using, he said. "I was blank. I had nothing. I had no idea why I was the way I was."

The panacea of heroin and drugs blanketed his emotions; he never learned to "walk through fear," Murray said. "So when I got sober at 23 I was still a 15 year old kid," he said.

"My brother can't tell his story. So I tell it for him."

Maffetone said Murray's story and his brother's are similar. "The only difference is my brother can't tell his story. So I tell his story for him."

Another difference is the work-related injury that got his brother hooked on pain meds and a lawsuit that left him with a good "chunk of change" to buy pills as his addiction escalated.

"We replay his story every day in our minds when we're awake and when we're sleeping, too," he said.

Those who want to bury their heads in the sand and say addiction doesn't exist on the bucolic North Fork or on the East End, he said, are sadly mistaken.

An EMT in Riverhead, Maffetone said, saves at least one person with Narcan a month, and that's with only one eight-hour shift a month. "It's here. It's right here," he said.

While at a recent event at Mattituck High School, Southold Town Police Chief Martin Flatley said in the 70s, heroin addicts were perceived as"dirty", standing on the corners with needles; today, Maffetone said all that's changed. "That is not the face of heroin." Pointing to the bright young faces on the Michael's Hope team, he said, "You never would have guessed if you ran into them at the store. You don't know the face of heroin anymore. It's your community. The ugliest disease hides in the most beautiful people."

Local counselor Jeanine Warns also spoke, stating that heroin addiction is a brain-altering disease. "Nobody grows up and says, 'I want to be a heroin addict. I want to stick needles in my arms, steal my mother's engagement ring and hit my brother on the head and steal his money.' But the brain gets changed."

She agreed, "We have to debunk the myth. Heroin can be any child, any time." Clients have included rich and poor, she said; one child's mother was using her to deliver drugs to the school bus stop. "From third to sixth grades, she would carry those drugs. The moms would come, put money in her backpack and take the drugs."

Warns said communities need to change their outlook. "Every child is our child," she said. Kids need to be spoken to about the dangers of addiction at younger ages, she said.

And to those who have conquered addiction and joined Michael's Hope to spread the message, she said, "You are my heroes."