Daniel Hand High School graduate Joe Deane lost his life due to fentanyl poisoning in 2018 after numerous attempts to shake his addiction and get his promising future headed in a positive direction. Hunter Mayhew was Joe’s best friend, and Joe’s death still looms over Hunter, his friends, and especially the Deane family, who are all still grieving the potential of Joe that was lost forever.

Hunter spent his youth with Joe among a close circle of friends, playing sports and eventually becoming part of the Deane clan.

“I met Joe when we were really young. We had classes together, probably as far back as early middle school at least 5th grade. I really knew him for most of my life,” says Hunter. “Joe had one of those personalities where it was hard not to like him. He was always in a good mood. It was hard not to gravitate towards him. Growing up as kids, we were more like siblings. Things were not super great at home for me, and I spent a lot of time at the Deane house growing up and got to know the whole family really well. I still think of Joe’s brother as a close friend. Sometimes I struggle to put words to the bond Joe and I had, but he’s irreplaceable and, to me, he was a sibling—that simple.”

After graduation, Hunter pursued a business degree, but soon found that the corporate world was not his path in life. After transferring, he obtained a degree in Art Therapy, where he was involved in internships and gained experience in addiction recovery and counseling.

“I ultimately transferred to Albertus Magnus, which has a great art therapy program. That’s where I was exposed by an internship to a treatment program at the Stonington Institute. I did my first internship there during my junior year of college. As I got more familiar with art therapy, that’s when I started to consider a different degree,” Hunter says. “When I graduated, I took a job at Stonington doing clinical case management and, shortly after that, enrolled in [the Southern Connecticut State University] Masters of Social Work [MSW] program while starting a separate specialized education and training program for addiction counseling.”

Hunter says the devastation of his friend’s death had a profound impact on him, and he wanted to ensure that meaning and a positive narrative could be found in such a tragic loss. Despite a career path that forces him to confront the realities of addiction, Hunter says he is still learning to deal with the grief of Joe’s passing.

“His death hit me very hard. I had been working in the substance use field for a while by this time, was getting ready to start the MSW program, and was painfully aware of how dangerous and awful opioid use was becoming. Being around that kind of tragedy every day, you think managing that news might get easier, but it never does, and I did not handle it well. I think this is when I went from shock and dissociation to the most profound pain and sadness,” recalls Hunter. “For weeks, even months after the fact, it just didn’t seem real. Still, even to this day, all these years later, it’s a hard conversation to have. He was my closest friend. There will still be moments where I’ll go to text him and remember that I can’t anymore.”

Although Hunter was in the midst of pursuing his education, developing a plan as a counselor, and devoting himself to social work, the death of his friend drove home a crucial realization.

“The worst part is, I am not a mother, a father, or his legitimate brother—just a friend who loved him very much. I can only imagine how much more his mother and father and brother have suffered as a result of Joe’s death. The hardest part for me has been coping with how much regret I feel. As one of their son’s closest friends…I feel tremendous sadness and guilt for the family who always welcomed me into their home so openly,” says Hunter. “It hurts to accept that as one of very few individuals who might’ve had a deep enough relationship with Joe to where the right conversation at the right time could have made a difference, that I missed every chance because I didn’t know how to have that conversation and felt afraid of how it might affect our friendship.”

Joe now works as an addiction counselor at Root Center for Advanced Recovery, where he assists those who find themselves struggling, like Joe, to take control of their lives.

“Helping clients mitigate the risks associated with substance use is so important. If I had known then what I know now, I certainly would’ve been having more of these types of conversations with Joe,” says Hunter. “I took a job at Root Center for Advanced Recovery because they are one of the largest substance use and mental health providers in the state, and they have an awesome treatment philosophy. I love their treatment model. Opioid use disorder is a large problem and I feel that Root Center…is cultivating the resources to save lives. Good substance use treatment in any capacity, at its core, is patient centered, compassionate, and always growing to improve treatment outcomes.”

Following Joe’s death, his mother, Lisa Deane, created Demand Zero, an organization dedicated to pushing an educational agenda for those addicted, those in danger of falling into opiate addiction, and with elected officials. Lisa’s efforts also inspired Hunter to take part in several Demand Zero projects, including a new initiative, A Virtual Youth Assembly aimed at young adults that doesn’t mince words or put a pretty façade on the realities of addiction.

The project has been viewed by more than 10,000 Connecticut students thus far, and the organization is pushing for even wider access. Hunter says that speaking about Joe in the project was something he felt he needed to be a part of.

“Joe’s mother had called me and asked if I would do an interview with the Rendon Group to talk about my relationship with Joe, the impact of fentanyl addiction, our relationship growing up, and our perspectives. I really wanted to focus on education and convey how the decisions that we made or watched people make as adolescents had lifelong consequences because of the general lack of awareness and an absence of conversations about the dangers of opioids,” says Hunter. “In high school, nobody knew or believed then that we would grow up and start to see our friends, family, and so many people we love overdose, cycle in and out of treatment, and even die. I just wanted the kids to understand that opioids are going to be around, they are super dangerous, that it’s OK to have conversations about this huge global issue, and there are resources to access for help and information. Nobody deserves to feel hopeless and stuck.”

“Joe was the kind of guy who lived to make people laugh. He could literally influence the mood in whole rooms in the most positive way. There was no better friend you could have. He cared more about his friends than anybody I knew,” Hunter continues. “The reality is opioids can affect anybody, and they are just everywhere. Giving kids permission to talk to their parents about it, and helping parents find resources to educate or help their children is huge. At the end of the day, addiction is pervasive and complex, and all we can do is learn to accept that it affects everybody, nothing gets better if we do nothing, we need to be talking more about it even if its uncomfortable, and there’s help out there, and there’s no shame in asking for it.”

For more on Demand Zero, the Youth Assembly, and the organization’s other projects, visit: www.demandzero.org/.

If you or someone else you love is suffering from addiction, there are numerous avenues for help. The Root Center for Advanced Recovery is among many in the state that can assist. Visit www.rootcenter.org/.