Pubdate: Tue, 05 Jul 2005 Source: Portland Press Herald ( ME ) Copyright: 2005 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc. Contact: http://pressherald.mainetoday.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/744 Author: David Hench, Portland Press Herald Writer Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/pot.htm (Cannabis) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/heroin.htm (Heroin) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?136 (Methadone) WOMAN DRAWS ON EXPERIENCE TO CARRY MESSAGE OF RECOVERY Addiction left Ronni Katz's personal life in a shambles, even as she achieved professional success as a musician, a counselor and Nashville's youth program coordinator. Her apartment was a wreck, her car a clunker and she was incapable of sustaining a relationship. She worked to convince young people that staying clean was key to a meaningful life. Eventually, she listened to her own message, joining Narcotics Anonymous in 1997. Now Katz oversees Portland's Overdose Prevention Project, hoping to keep drug users alive so they at least have a chance to change course. "We weren't going to get everybody into recovery, but we had to figure out how they can protect themselves and stay healthy even if they were still using drugs," Katz said during a recent interview. Katz's experience of drug use and recovery, along with her professional qualifications, led the city's Health and Human Services Department to choose her in 2003 to lead its fledgling effort to reduce the number of accidental drug deaths in Portland. The program was created after 28 people died of overdose deaths in 2002, almost twice the number the year before. Rather than burying her past, Katz draws on it to give credibility and passion to her efforts. "I've never met anybody more dedicated to helping others," said Portland police Sgt. Scott Pelletier, who supervises the Maine Drug Enforcement Agency in southern Maine. "She's very forthright about her past with addiction and truly committed about sending the message that you can recover. . . . It's not easy and oftentimes it's a lifelong endeavor to get better, and she's living proof of that." Pelletier says Katz also has succeeded in bridging some of the perceived antipathy between social service providers and police. "She's broken down all those barriers," he said, and the Overdose Prevention Project serves as a role model for collaboration that other states should mimic. The program has used outreach workers and volunteers to teach drug users to recognize overdoses in their friends and to call rescue workers if they do. The education campaign appeared to work, and complemented other city initiatives such as equipping all fire engines and ambulances with naloxone, a drug that can reverse the effects of opiates like heroin. Drug deaths in Portland dropped sharply, and fell somewhat in the rest of the state, as the problem gained attention. Now, the number of overdose deaths appears to be climbing again across Maine, though less so in Portland. Portland's Overdose Prevention Program is renewing efforts to educate drug users about the dangers of strong heroin, of misused pharmaceuticals and of diverted methadone, trying to keep drug users alive until they can help themselves. Teenager In The 60S Katz started using drugs as a teenager in the 1960s, beset with all the typical insecurities and alienation of that age as well as a nasty divorce brewing at home in suburban Queens, where the family had moved from a housing project in New York City. She started with marijuana and alcohol and the common perception that neither was dangerous. In time, she experimented with harder drugs. Katz was protesting the war in Vietnam and playing guitar, and by the time she was 18 she was performing professionally with an all-female country-rock band. It was a lifestyle of late-night parties, drinking and drugs. After graduating from Queensborough Community College, she became an English teacher, though she eventually abandoned teaching to concentrate on her music career full time. Over the years, the people she was spending time with, partying with, changed. "I saw so many of my friends just grow out of that stage and I saw my circle of friends getting narrower and younger," Katz said. And she found that she was typically alone at weddings and special occasions. She was often jovial, but also prone to bouts of anger and rage. "You get to a point where it's no longer about the substance. It was about the addiction and filling that hole," she said. "It's very easy to blame it on everybody else. Denial is like a protective shield." Ironically, she became a high school substance abuse and prevention counselor, and found she could help young people make better choices. It was while working with kids that she first realized she needed to change her own life. Those teenagers also showed her the power and potential of making life changes. "I still hear from some of those kids that everyone had given up on. One graduated from Cornell, another is graduating from the University of Arizona, another is in law school." Clean Since 1997 It was while she was working with high school students, that hypocrisy, that led her to change. She did change scenery, leaving New York for Nashville and what she described as her dream job. She was director of the city's after-school programs, which she helped grow from a handful of sites to a dozen serving hundreds of youngsters. Still, she took no vacations and bought no new clothes and stayed in the same run-down apartment for years. She used drugs less, but drank more. One night, she found herself in an on-line chat room with another woman in recovery, and realized she needed help. She joined Narcotics Anonymous and has been alcohol and drug free since 1997. "They say when you get sick and tired of being sick and tired, is when you get help," she said. Katz knows many of the people targeted by the Overdose Prevention Project often are in more dire straits than she endured, but they weren't always. "There's a large population of functional addicts out there like I was. That doesn't mean they'll stay that way," she said. Breaking the grip of addiction is often a matter of life or death. "It's not easy, but it winds up being a much better and easier life over time," she said. Now 53, Katz has a stable relationship, a house filled with three cats and three dogs, and a mission to promote survival, hope and recovery. "I need to carry that message. A lot of people keep it quiet. It's become part of my work," said Katz, whose tight silver curls frame a frequent smile, despite the somber aspects of her job. Staying clean and sober has made her life better, but she also hopes it has helped improve other lives, as well. "I know what I've got inside, no one can take away," Katz said. "I also know I can help other people more."