Needle exchanges save lives | Letter

Maine Veteran’s 2003 Death Highlights Gaps in Harm‑Reduction Services
Lewiston, Maine – In the spring of 2003, a Navy veteran who had long struggled with alcohol and heroin addiction lost his life to liver cancer linked to hepatitis C. The man, who was 57 and nearing his 58th birthday, was a resident of Lewiston and had been a U.S. Navy serviceman before his health problems deepened.
He had complained of abdominal pain and loss of appetite for several years. In 2002, a Veterans Affairs (VA) doctor finally diagnosed him with terminal liver cancer. He later reflected that earlier attempts to have his pain managed were dismissed as “drug‑seeking behavior,” a frustration that echoes a broader issue of how people who use drugs are treated within the healthcare system.
The veteran’s liver cancer was the result of chronic hepatitis C, a virus often transmitted through shared needles. The father’s history of heroin use in the 1970s—when drug paraphernalia was heavily criminalized—made it highly likely that he contracted the virus from a shared injection.
“There were no needle exchange programs back then,” the father’s daughter, Siiri Cressey, wrote in a letter to the Maine News Now. “Activists who tried to provide clean needles faced imprisonment. But that didn’t stop people from using.”
The story raises the question of whether the lack of harm‑reduction services contributed to the father’s eventual death. Cressey, who grew up in Lewiston, has become an advocate for safer‑sex and safer‑needle programs. She believes that a single needle that isn’t shared can prevent the spread of hepatitis C and HIV. “That one person could be someone’s dad, mom, brother, sister, daughter, spouse or friend,” she says. “Everyone is someone’s something.”
Cressey also points to a common misconception: “It can be uncomfortable to be around people who use street drugs,” she writes. “Just because someone uses does not mean that they deserve to catch a deadly illness.” She acknowledges that addiction is complicated, adding that she knows people who became addicted to powerful pain medications during hospital stays.
While the father’s story is a personal tragedy, it is part of a larger trend. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, nearly 70 % of people who inject drugs in the United States have hepatitis C. In Maine, the state’s Department of Health reports that the rate of hepatitis C among people who use drugs remains a public health concern, especially in rural communities where access to healthcare and harm‑reduction services is limited.
Historically, Maine has struggled to implement needle‑exchange programs. In the 1970s and 1980s, the state, like many others, enforced strict anti‑drug paraphernalia laws. Only in recent years have some municipalities begun to adopt “syringe‑exchange” or “needle‑exchange” programs, often in partnership with local health departments and community organizations. The goal: reduce disease transmission and provide a bridge to treatment.
The VA has also taken steps to address pain management for veterans who use drugs. A 2020 VA policy change, for example, allowed for safer prescribing practices and the use of medication‑assisted treatment (MAT) for opioid addiction. However, many veterans still report barriers to accessing these services, citing stigma and the fear of being labeled as drug seekers.
Cressey’s letter serves as a reminder of the personal impact of these policies. “I’m reasonably confident that people use drugs for reasons that are very real to them; they stop for their own reasons too,” she says. The loss of a loved one to an illness preventable through harm‑reduction highlights the need for comprehensive approaches that combine medical treatment, addiction support, and public health interventions.
Local activists are calling for more aggressive harm‑reduction initiatives in Maine. The Lewiston‑Armstrong community has organized a “Safe Injection Education” workshop, and a nonprofit called the Maine Harm Reduction Alliance is lobbying for state‑wide needle‑exchange services. “We want to change the narrative that drug use is a moral failing,” says one advocate. “It is a public health issue that requires compassion and resources.”
Cressey’s letter also underscores a broader cultural shift. While some still view drug users with suspicion, others, like Cressey, see them as patients deserving of dignity and care. “Everyone is someone’s something,” she repeats. “We all have connections that matter.”
The father’s death, just before his 58th birthday, remains a personal loss for Cressey and a public call to action for Maine. If the state can provide safe‑needle programs and destigmatize pain treatment for people who use drugs, perhaps more families will avoid the tragedy that befell a veteran whose life was cut short by a preventable disease.




