I was born and raised in Williamsport. I lived there for 23 years before I felt the need to leave, something I never thought I would do. Since leaving three years ago, I have always felt a fondness for the place I called home. Its charm from old homes and beauty from the river was something I was longing to come back to.
Returning to Williamsport for my youngest sisters funeral two weeks ago made me feel ashamed that this place I called home essentially killed her. I feel naive thinking that this was a safe and welcoming place. As I drove around the streets that I learned to drive on, I looked out the window wondering if every person I passed was a heroine user, seller or addict.
How many of these people were innocent young people before a substance stole it from them? What has happened to my home? I had no idea that there was such an environment like this in a place as small as Williamsport. How many more of Williamsport’s children will die before a change is made? I plead with the city that more of an effort is made to prevent more deaths and more lives stolen.
Submitted by Virtual Newsroom