The question that sparked today’s blog post came from a viewer who asked something simple, honest, and deeply important:
“How did these lawsuits even happen in the first place?”
t’s a question a lot of people have, especially those who’ve lost someone, those trying to understand the crisis, and those who keep hearing about billions of dollars in “opioid settlement money” without any real sense of where it came from or where it’s going.
This blog post is my attempt to answer that question as clearly as possible, while also acknowledging the parts of this story that no family should ever have to live through.
Because the truth is this:
Behind every lawsuit…
behind every settlement…
behind every dollar moving across a state ledger…
is someone like my son Logan.
And that reality matters.
How We Got Here: The Crisis Before the Crisis
To understand the lawsuits, we have to start long before fentanyl. Long before counterfeit pills. Long before the poisoned drug supply became the public health emergency it is today.
The modern opioid crisis began in doctors’ offices.
In the 1990s and early 2000s, prescription opioids, especially OxyContin, were marketed as safer, less addictive, and more appropriate for long-term use than the medical community had ever believed before. Sales representatives were trained to deliver polished talking points that minimized addiction risks. Doctors who hesitated were encouraged to prescribe more, not less, often based on the now-debunked concept of “pseudoaddiction” , the idea that drug-seeking behavior wasn’t addiction, but “undertreated pain.”
We know now what families were already feeling then:
This wasn’t medicine.
This was a business model.
Prescriptions skyrocketed. Addiction followed. Then overdoses. Then the shift to heroin. Then fentanyl. Then synthetics. The system buckled under the weight of its own consequences — yet it took years for the truth to surface.
Families suffered long before the lawsuits ever made headlines.
The Purdue Pharma & Sackler Story: The Lawsuit That Changed Everything
When people ask about the origin of the lawsuits, this is where the story leads: Purdue Pharma and the Sackler family.
Purdue launched OxyContin in 1996 with messaging so aggressive, and so misleading, it became the cornerstone of one of the largest public health failures in American history. Communities trusted their doctors. Doctors trusted Purdue. Purdue trusted profit.
Internal documents later showed:
- Purdue knew misuse and addiction were happening.
- They knew the pills were being crushed, snorted, injected.
- They knew addiction rates were rising.
- They continued pushing higher doses and longer prescriptions anyway.
States, counties, tribes, and families eventually sued Purdue and the Sacklers personally. They argued that the company’s deceptive marketing fueled the opioid crisis and caused irreparable harm.
The lawsuits exposed decades of manipulation and billions in revenue built on human suffering.
In the end:
- Purdue filed for bankruptcy (a strategic shield against additional lawsuits).
- The Sacklers agreed to contribute billions — without admitting wrongdoing.
- And they fought for immunity from future civil suits.
For many families, it felt like the wealthy were buying their way out of accountability. Still, this case laid the foundation for how opioid settlement funding works today. Billions of dollars now flow into states because we forced the truth into the light. But nobody should ever forget where that money came from:
Pain. Loss. Death. Desperation. Broken systems. Broken families.
Including mine.
The Fentanyl Era: A Crisis Without a Corporate Villain
The lawsuits may have begun with OxyContin, but the crisis didn’t stop there. When prescriptions dried up, people already dependent turned to the street supply.
Heroin.
Counterfeit pills.
Then fentanyl — the synthetic drug that changed everything.
Today’s fentanyl crisis is decentralized, global, and nearly impossible to litigate. The supply chain includes:
- precursor chemical companies overseas
- illegal production labs
- pill press operations
- trafficking networks
- low-level dealers
- online marketplaces
- social media channels
- encrypted messaging apps
There is no single corporation to sue.
No Purdue.
No Sackler family.
No headquarters.
No executives in suits.
That’s why you don’t hear about “fentanyl lawsuits.” Criminal cases happen, yes — often labeled “drug-induced homicide.” But those cases don’t generate community funding. They don’t uncover corporate deception. They don’t reform systems. They don’t pay for treatment or prevention. They don’t hold global suppliers accountable. The families keep burying their children. The drug supply keeps getting more dangerous. The lawsuits stay rooted in the past, in the prescription era. It’s complicated, painful, and deeply unfair.
Where Opioid Settlement Money Comes From
Settlement money comes from civil cases against:
- manufacturers,
- distributors,
- and pharmacy chains.
These companies agreed to pay billions over several decades, with the requirement that the money be used for “opioid abatement,” meaning:
- treatment access
- mental health support
- recovery housing
- prevention programs for youth
- overdose-reversal medications
- support for families and children
- community services
- data collection
- education campaigns
On paper, it’s a step toward healing. But in practice? It depends heavily on whether a state manages its funds well. Some do. Some don’t. Some simply aren’t transparent. That’s why this next part is so important.
Where the Money Is Being Used Well: The Good Stewardship Stories
Let me highlight something I wish more people knew:
This isn’t all disaster. There are places using this money responsibly, compassionately, and effectively.
1. Naloxone Distribution Is Saving Lives
One of the biggest positive impacts of settlement funding has been expanding access to naloxone, the overdose-reversal medication. Schools, police, fire departments, community organizations, libraries, and even convenience stores have begun carrying it. Many experts believe that wider naloxone access contributed to the drop in overdose deaths in some parts of the U.S. in 2024.
It’s simple:
People can’t recover if they’re dead.
Naloxone saves time — time saves lives.
2. Arkansas Opioid Recovery Partnership (ARORP)
As someone from Arkansas, I’m proud to highlight this:
ARORP is one of the most effective models in the nation.
- They oversee settlement funds for all 75 counties.
- They’ve distributed $26.3 million so far.
- They’ve funded 142 community projects.
These projects support:
- schools
- treatment centers
- recovery housing
- law enforcement training
- youth education
- prevention programs
- overdose response programs
Arkansas reported a 13% drop in overdose deaths in 2023. Correlation isn’t causation, but it’s encouraging. This is what good stewardship looks like.
3. Transparency in California and Oregon
Some states publish full public reports showing where every dollar goes.
California:
- Received $362 million in one year.
- Distributed 61% directly to cities and counties.
- Provides detailed, public spending reports.
Oregon:
- Issues transparent spending reports.
- Ensures rural areas are not left behind.
Transparency builds trust — and trust saves lives.
4. Small Counties Making a Big Difference
In Benzie County, Michigan, officials used their settlement money to put 19 AEDs (defibrillators) into sheriff’s cars, EMS units, and public buildings. It’s not flashy. It won’t make the news. But someone will live because of that decision. This is what it means when money meets compassion.
Blood Money: The Truth Behind the Dollars
There is a phrase that keeps echoing in my mind every time I talk about settlement funds:
It’s blood money. I don’t say that lightly. These dollars exist because of lives lost, because of my son’s life, and the lives of so many others.
Settlement money is not charity. It’s not generosity. It’s not corporate goodwill. It’s the financial aftermath of a national disaster that never should have happened.
And it’s our responsibility — as families, advocates, and communities — to make sure this money is used to honor the lives that were stolen. Money cannot bring our children back. But it can prevent other families from joining our club of grief.
If — and only if — we insist on accountability.
Why This Matters to Me as a Father
I write and speak about this because Logan can’t.
Every breath I take in advocacy is an extension of the breath he no longer gets to draw.
Every truth I speak is a truth he didn’t get the chance to tell.
Every system I challenge is a system that failed him.
When we talk about lawsuits and money and accountability, it can feel like politics or policy or economics.
But to me, to us, it’s personal.
These lawsuits are built on the backs of our children.
These settlements exist because of their suffering.
This money exists because people died.
So when I ask, “Where is the money going?”
I’m really asking:
“How are you honoring the lives we lost?”
What You Can Do
You don’t need to be an expert to make a difference.
You can:
- Ask your county how they’re using settlement funds.
- Attend public meetings.
- Write to local officials.
- Support overdose prevention programs.
- Carry naloxone.
- Share your family’s story.
- Advocate for kids left behind.
- Push for transparency.
- Hold systems accountable.
Your voice matters.
Your grief matters.
Your advocacy matters.
And if nobody else has told you this today:
You are not alone.
Final Thoughts
This crisis began with lies.
It has continued through silence.
But it will only end with truth.
My son Logan will always be my reason why.
And as long as I have breath in my body,
I will speak for him, and for every family living this nightmare.
We deserve answers.
We deserve accountability.
We deserve transparency.
And we deserve a future where this crisis no longer steals the people we love.
If you or someone you know is struggling, please check out our resources page for helpful links. And watch the podcast episode about this topic.
