By Trenton's mom, Lynette
My son, Trenton Munn, died August 21, 2016, from an accidental heroin overdose. He was 31 years old.
Trenton suffered from drug addiction since his late teen years. He first became addicted to Oxycontin, and when that became hard to come by, he turned to heroin. It was a cheaper, easier to find an alternative.
When his son, Harley was born in May 2012, Trenton tried to quit cold turkey. He wanted to get clean for his son. Trenton also suffered from anxiety and depression. During the past four years Trenton tried repeatedly to get off heroin.
This past March we discovered that Trenton had advanced to shooting up heroin. Even though he had said he would not stick a needle in his veins.
After many failed attempts in treatment, with everyone telling us we had to do tough love, we decided to remove Trenton from our home. It broke our hearts having to put our child out on the streets.
Trenton was then taken in by a friend. The friend promised he didn't condone heroin and there'd be none of it in his home.
Throughout this past summer, Trenton would come to our house for his parental visits with his son. Since his son's mother had gotten in trouble with the law, Trenton was given full custody of Harley. Trenton also had just began a new job, was looking healthier and had gained some weight. We thought he was kicking his addiction. Things were looking up.
Due to Trenton not having a car, we were driving him to and from work. The last day we saw our son was Saturday, August 20, 2016. We picked him up from work at 4:00 p.m., as usual. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, other than Trenton not asking what I was making for supper. He normally would come to have dinner with us.
When we arrived at the friend's house where Trenton was living, he told us he'd see us in the morning and that he loved us. He didn't text or call us that evening.
The dreaded call came at 4:21 a.m. from the friend Trenton was living with. The friend began with: "I think you need to come out here!" I asked him what was wrong and he replied, "I think Trent's overdosing!" I hung up the phone immediately, jumped out of bed screaming. I told my husband we had to go. His dad wasn't moving fast enough so my daughter and I left without him.
As we were getting into my car, the friend called again. My daughter asked him if he had called 911 - and he had not! So she called. She had 911 on one ear and the friend on the other. I drove as fast as I could. We arrived at the friend’s home in a matter of minutes. The police and the ambulance were already there. We were met by an officer on the porch of the house. It was too late. My precious baby boy was dead.
My son was found by his friend, slumped over, leaning up against the couch, between the kitchen and living room. The friend had laid him out, to attempt CPR, but couldn't get his mouth open. Trenton was already gone. At that time, it became a criminal investigation because no one saw Trenton shoot the heroin up himself. In addition, the authorities had a feeling, and due to how the scene looked, that our child was placed there by others. They believe Trenton received what they call a “hot load”: heroin laced with fentanyl.
That same weekend, over 75 overdoses were reported in Ohio. The heroin was laced with elephant tranquilizers.
This has been the worse pain we ever felt. Nothing or no one can ever bring our son back. Our grandson is going to grow up without his father.
We have been waiting on the official toxicology report. It's now been 10 weeks.