Benefield: Sonoma State University student’s death inspires opioid education program

Early in his freshman year at Sonoma State University, Trevor Leopold called his parents at home in Marin County and invited them to dinner.

“He said, ‘I’m not sure college is right for me,’” Trevor’s mom, Michelle, remembered her son saying.

So, before heading north to meet for a sushi dinner, Michelle Leopold went to the library. She checked out the seminal career and life guide, “What Color is Your Parachute?” as well as some information on trade schools.

She wanted her son to feel supported, to know he had options.

Trevor’s dad, Jeff, couldn’t make it, but Michelle drove to the school in Rohnert Park, she said.

As he promised, Trevor paid . Michelle left him the books and pamphlets she had picked up.

“He was really positive and upbeat. He had figured out a path,” Michelle said.

Less than two weeks later, Trevor, who had struggled with marijuana addiction in high school, was found dead in his dorm room.

He died from an unwitting overdose. It was fentanyl poisoning.

Michelle said her son believed he was taking Oxycodone, a pain pill. The single pill he took was laced with enough fentanyl to kill him, she said.

When Michelle drove north this time, it was so she and her husband could clean their son’s dorm room, collect his things and bring them home.

In his room they found notes from a meeting he’d had with a counselor the week prior. They found his to-do list, which outlined date reminders for paperwork to withdraw from school, a reminder to find a therapist/psychiatrist, a note to get a job in the meantime and to find clubs, “get connected.”

At the bottom of the piece of paper, Trevor wrote, in all caps, “Next appt: Friday @12.”

Trevor had plans.

“Unfortunately, he died before that,” Michelle said.

She saved the note.

“I have it framed just to remind me that he didn’t want to die,” she said.

‘He might be alive today’

Nov. 17 will mark four years since Trevor died.

Since that day, the Leopolds have become advocates — for education about fentanyl, for understanding about addiction, for erasing the stigma around naloxone , an opioid-overdose antidote, also known under the brand name Narcan.

Michelle Leopold wears a button on her sweater that reads, “I carry naloxone.”

There should be no shame, no stigma associated with carrying Narcan, she said.

Advocates liken it to learning how to administer CPR.

“If the person (Trevor) was with might have known what the signs of overdose were and had Narcan he might be alive today,” Michelle said.

This fall, at SSU’s freshman orientation, Michelle Leopold told Trevor’s story.

Her story.

In the presentation to more than 600 students, Michelle showed enlarged photos not only of Trevor, but other young people also lost to overdose.

“My main thing is sharing Trevor’s story, because that is what I know and what I lived,” she said. “For me, that is a way to honor my son.”

So powerful was Leopold’s talk, some students excused themselves, said Mo Phillips, director of student involvement at SSU.

It was Phillips who had been in touch with Leopold, who knew she wanted to do more, to reach more students, so she invited her to speak in front of her largest audience to date.

“That morning, when she spoke? They were paying attention. They were quiet,” Phillips said.

Freshman Emma Beckerle heard Leopold’s story. More accurately, she felt it.

“I was 16 when I lost my very close childhood friend to fentanyl poisoning,” she said. “He overdosed on Percocet laced with fentanyl.”

So, when Leopold concluded her talk, Beckerle, who grew up in Las Vegas, approached her.

“I just thanked her immensely because it was a very touching speech and then I shared my experience with her,” she said. “I obviously don’t understand the magnitude of losing a child … it’s just different when you have that kind of connection with someone who has had a similar loss. She’s just an amazing human being.”

The two started talking. Beckerle wondered how to put what she was feeling into action.

Leopold gave her a few resources and the two talked of launching a chapter of End Overdose on campus. The national organization promotes access and training in the delivery of naloxone.

Naloxone, approved by the Federal Drug Administration for over-the-counter use this year, is a nasal spray used to reverse the effects of opioid overdose.

It comes as opioid deaths continue to soar in the U.S.

According to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 220 people died of opioid overdose every day in 2021 — an increase of 16% over the year prior.

Over 75% of the nearly 107,000 drug overdose deaths in 2021 involved an opioid.

“Emma is great. She’s passionate,” Phillips said. “She’s goal-driven. She really wants this to happen.”

There are a number of requirements fledgling clubs need to meet in order to be sanctioned by the university and to be able to take advantage of access to banking, grants, tabling, promotional materials and space to meet on campus.

Beckerle is ticking off the requirements one by one, Phillips said.

“She’s close to having everything she needs,” she said.

‘I really hope it saves a life’

Beckerle’s work with End Overdose falls in line with SSU’s efforts to comply with Senate Bill 367 that requires the California Department of Public Health provide education and opioid reversal medication at no cost on California’s public universities and colleges.

The bill went into effect Jan. 1

Chaka Morrison, a registered nurse and SSU health educator, has trained about 30 students so far this fall on how to administer naloxone.

“I’m so passionate about this project,” she said. “I really hope it saves a life.”

Students cannot get naloxone from school officials without undergoing the approximately 30-minute training.

But it’s in that time that Morrison can answer questions, can put students at ease, can make them feel confident that they have the tools they need should an emergency situation arise.

The program is voluntary, but “it would be great if we could get all students trained,” Morrison said.

Morrison said she has set up group trainings, one-on-one instruction — whatever students request, she wants to meet them where they are.

Sonoma State senior Lin Nash walked away from Beckerle’s End Overdose information table last week with information, but truth be told, she was already educated.

The pre-med, kinesiology major is well-versed in the benefits of education and the power of having naloxone readily available.

“It’s way simpler than people expect it to be,” she said of the administration of the nasal spray.

Information, and ultimately better understanding of what naloxone does, will help reduce any stigma associated with a student carrying it or having it available, Nash said.

“Ultimately, it’s like somebody learning first aid. If we are including it with first-aid training, it would really help with the opiate crisis,” she said.

For Leopold, naloxone is one piece of the fight against accidental overdose.

But the key piece, she said, is continued education — about mental health supports, about addiction, about drug abuse and dependency.

“Narcan is part of the conversation, but in my opinion education is way more important,” she said. “Narcan is … helping someone from drowning, but education is teaching them how to swim so they are not going to drown.”

For Leopold, connecting with Beckerle and seeing the End Overdose club get off the ground on the very campus where her son died is bittersweet.

But she seems buoyed by talking with students, answering questions and telling Trevor’s story, surrounded by photos of her son.

There is one photograph in which Trevor, wearing a fully loaded backpack, looks over his shoulder, a great expanse of high desert behind him.

In another, mother and son lean close together. Their heads touching, Trevor’s right arm is draped around his mom.

In it, they are forever smiling.

You can reach Staff Columnist Kerry Benefield at 707-526-8671 or kerry.benefield@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @benefield.