When I was hired, I specifically chose to work at McPherson because I understand what it's like where substance use disorder. And I wanted to use as a guide for my work. But before I get to that, I want to share what it was like to witness this epidemic. Like many other communities, We began to take notice addresses from nearby and upstate counties and then slowly out-of-state ones. People from Arkansas, coming to Philadelphia for cheap heroin. People began to linger longer, causing us to pay than to our daily responsibilities because it was an accessible place. One day our toilet clogged. We were forced to close because the culprit of the clog. For a while prior to that incident, we had been asking for a sharps and after that, the library administration along with hiring bathroom monitors. And as the weather warmed, we struggled to respond. People began camping out. You could walk outside to find multiple groups of people and children playing in between them. The amount of needles collected from 100 to 300 to 500 to 800, to over 1,000, with many found on our front steps. Then there were the overdoses. So many occurred outside in the park, some inside the library. Sterling, our guard, would spend his time and throughout the park, constantly making sure everyone was safe, because at times, our fear of having someone. One overdose in particular. So the library was full of kids. And in all of that, we heard the thud. When we opened the door, He was pulled out kids, teens, adults, families. Someone on staff called 911. Someone else escorted the kids. Somebody went to flag down. And the rest of us -- we just waited. This had become our overdose drill because at the time. So we waited and we watched seize up. He was dying. I don't know how many of you, but it's horrific. Because you know the gasping for air, the loss of color in someone's face, is a timer running down. But luckily for this man, the ambulance arrived and he received a dose. And I remember he jolted and he pulled the needle out, and he told the paramedics to back off. And then he stood up, and he walked out. And we -- we went back to work. Because people were still asking, kids still needed help with their homework, and this was our job -- our purpose. I think that incident stays with me. It made me feel helpless. And it was that feeling of helplessness. Before I was born, It made our lives chaotic and unstable: promises being made and constantly broken, their fighting, the weight of our secret kept so much. Every time we'd be dropped off I'd be stuck on the thought. Every time we'd be left in a car, I'd cry. And every time I saw those El tracks -- the same ones I take from the backseat of a car, I'd be angry, because even kids know when their parents. There was so little I could do that that feeling of helplessness. I struggled in school, struggled to read. I was prone to anger and depression. When I was 11 years old, which shortly after led to my own. I convinced myself that my parents' past. But eventually both of my parents and maintained recovery from opioid use. And their strength and their commitment provided support and stability. And it was those personal experiences Choosing to be a librarian and choosing to be at McPherson was me letting go and finding ways. And one way to provide support was learning how to administer Narcan. Public libraries respond and not knowing how to utilize Narcan was a disservice. We were on the frontlines and desperately needed. So finally in late February of 2017, after much advocating, we finally received training. And about a month of so later, I utilized Narcan for the first time. It was after school again, and Teddy came into the library and said someone was overdosing. Someone on staff called 911 again, and I grabbed the Narcan kit. The woman was barely in her 20s. Her friend was frantically in hopes of reviving her. I administered the Narcan nasally, and thankfully she came to. But before the ambulance arrived, she and her friend ran off. And when I finally turned around, I saw the kids -- kids that come into the library some that I have known for years -- standing on the steps of the building. They saw everything. And they didn't seem.