So much for an emergency! Portland piously sounded alarm on fentanyl crisis promising a crackdown – but the reality is junkies on every corner and paramedics taking over 20 minutes to respond to ODs

Within an hour of arriving in downtown Portland to investigate the city’s recently declared “state of emergency” over the fentanyl crisis, I’m on the phone calling 911.

One of the dozens of homeless drug addicts lining the sidewalks has just been hit in plain sight by a piece of aluminum foil and collapsed into a lifeless heap.

In a province where overdoses caused more than 200 deaths in 2022 alone, I fear something will happen again right before my eyes.

The 911 operator asks for a location – Everett Street and Fourth Avenue in Chinatown – a description of the patient, a black man probably no older than 30, and takes my contact information. “We’ll pass it on,” the handler responds calmly and hangs up.

But almost twenty minutes later, there is still no first responder on the scene. By this time, the man begins to stir and eventually stumbles to his feet before sliding away.

He survived – this time. But given the 533 percent explosion in overdose deaths in Multnomah County, where Portland is located, since 2018, there is a frightening possibility that his next hit could be his last.

And after just a few hours here, I think: so much for the emergency.

Oregon Governor Tina Kotek had made the dramatic declaration on January 31, along with Portland Mayor Ted Wheeler and Multnomah County Chairwoman Jessica Vega Pederson.

“The next 90 days will bring unprecedented collaboration and targeted resources focused on fentanyl and provide a roadmap for the next steps,” Kotek stated.

But on this dreary Tuesday morning, there’s nary a cop, support worker or city official in sight in downtown Portland — and even reporting a suspected overdose to 911 doesn’t seem to get a response.

Block after block is filled with homeless addicts who openly use fentanyl and other hard drugs in broad daylight. Many users are cowering or bent double in a zombie-like state – the telltale sign that someone is high on fentanyl.

Is this what “unprecedented collaboration and targeted resources targeting fentanyl” looks like?

There were tense scenes as Kotek and her colleagues informed provincial officials of the state of emergency on Thursday, February 1.

During the meeting, Dr. Sharon Meieran, an elected Multnomah County commissioner, accused the leadership of a “pathetic…weak attempt to govern by press release.” “It won’t solve anything or accomplish anything,” she told them.

In an interview with DailyMail.com, Meieran, an emergency room doctor in Portland, was annoyed when she said the announcement didn’t even constitute “a plan for a plan.”

There is actually little substance in the statement, other than creating a “command center” whose objectives remain vague. Leaders haven’t even decided how they will measure the success of the latest plan.

“There is no element that indicates an emergency except the title of the statement,” Meieran said.

“We need to see people responding in some way, whether it’s getting medical services, getting law enforcement involved, diverting people to treatment, whatever that is. And there isn’t any of that.

“A lot of what we’re seeing shows that this is all really politically driven, rather than substantively driven.”

The explosion in drug deaths and fentanyl addiction in Portland has been linked by critics to the decision to decriminalize essentially all drugs in 2021.

Last November, Oregon voters supported Ballot Measure 110, which changed the law so that instead of arresting drug users, police issued summonses forcing them to seek treatment.

Instead of reducing drug use and helping addicts, deaths increased as fentanyl swept through the state. Law enforcement officials have said that only one percent of people issued citations actually received treatment.

The policy has also been accused of enabling the spread of drug use in the public sector. Users no longer fear arrest or punishment; their lethal drugs are not even confiscated.

Meieran said the seizure of drugs, including fentanyl, which can be purchased in pill or powder form for just a few dollars per hit, “should happen.” She also called for more work to address the drug’s supply chains.

“I think there is no doubt that decriminalization, especially because it was implemented without any planning or resources, or apparent foresight, was a disaster,” she said.

Meieran, who was elected as a non-partisan, also called for expanding support services for addicts whose lives have been destroyed by drugs.

She proposed an amendment to the emergency declaration that would add goals such as a 25 percent reduction in fentanyl deaths and overdoses, and an increase in treatment services.

In the center of this once booming city — which, like San Francisco, was once seen as a liberal haven — businesses are also grappling with the fallout from the fentanyl crisis.

Many storefronts are boarded up and some stores that remain open are even locking their doors, forcing customers to knock so an employee can let them in. The situation has been exacerbated by the pandemic, which has caused office vacancies and visitor numbers to fall.

Justin Machus, the owner of the MACHUS clothing boutique, said he believes the state of emergency announcement is little more than “lip service” to give the impression that something is being done.

Machus, who has owned businesses in Portland for 22 years and moved to his current department two-and-a-half years ago, told DailyMail.com: “It’s gotten worse and worse. It’s more overt and it’s in your face now. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, it was different drugs: cocaine and heroin.

“Fentanyl changed everything. It’s just in your face all the time. There is no fear of anything.’

He said addicts often hang around his store, but police refuse to take them unless they are actually on the premises. These days, he keeps a can of bear spray behind the counter for self-defense.

Moments before the interview, two drug users were sheltering in the outdoor area of ​​a restaurant a few doors away from the store. They were hunched over a piece of aluminum foil preparing a hit of what appeared to be fentanyl.

Machus and two of his associates said they voted in favor of Measure 110 three years ago but did not expect it to contribute to the current situation. Their intent was to prevent lifelong criminal records for people who use small amounts of recreational drugs.

“The use of (fentanyl) so openly in public, that was never considered. We just don’t want people using drugs in public,” Machus added, acknowledging how shocking it was that something had to be said so seemingly plainly.

Braxxton Dahm, one of Machus’ staffers, added wryly: “It’s very easy to declare a state of emergency in an election year.”