Woman Who Lost Brother To Heroin Works To Fight Opioid Crisis

It was on the afternoon of Saturday, April 19 in 2014. Dane County received a 911 call alerting them to a 24-year-old male who was non-responsive on the 100 block of Lauryn Court in the Village of Mount Horeb. 

Upon arrival, Mount Horeb Police found Jesse Dennis Cordts deceased on the floor of a bathroom as the result of a heroin overdose. At the time, his mother described him as “a wonderful teddy bear” of a man who brought smiles to the faces of those in his too-short life. 

Five years to the day later, his sister, Bobbie Rogers, fondly recalls her little brother’s dimple when he smiled, and the pride he took in being a loving uncle to her young children. But she hasn’t forgotten his tragic death. And she has been working diligently to do whatever she can to prevent other tragedies from occurring, as a well-documented wave of opioid-related deaths sweeps the country. 

“He really wanted to be somebody,” she says of Jesse. “He wanted to do something with his life. He was just at that crossroads where you think about those things.”

Heroin robbed Cordts of that future. It snatched a son away from his mother, and a brother away from his sister. For others, it erased a good friend. But it did not erase the bonds they shared. It is those bonds, says Rogers, that helped inspire her to take action to try to curb the opioid crisis. 

In the days, weeks and years that followed, Rogers didn’t just grieve. She got to work. While the family doesn’t believe Jesse’s heroin use began with a prescription drug problem, they are well aware that thousands of people find themselves mired in addiction once they accidentally grow dependent on painkillers and other drugs. 

“Even though Jesse didn’t have a prescription drug problem, he didn’t start that way, many people do start that way,” she says. As a nurse who knows the inner working of healthcare, and sister grieving for a brother, Rogers found herself uniquely situated to take action.

“I just was like, ‘What can I do?’ and as a nurse I felt like I had to do something,” she says.

“When it comes to opiates, healthcare started the problem, so healthcare needs to help fix it,” she adds.

Rogers joined a task force created by Safe Communities of Madison/Dane County, an award-winning nonprofit coalition of over 350 organizations working together to save lives, prevent injury and make the community safer.

“We talked about what we can do to battle this [public health crisis],” she says.

One step is to make sure “drop boxes” are readily available to the public. These receptacles provide a secure place where citizens can anonymously drop off old or unused prescription drugs. 

“The idea is to keep prescription drugs out of your house, our of landfills, and out of the waste stream,” she says.

“My feeling was, if you don’t have one [in your community], you should have one,” Rogers continues. “That’s how I first reached out to Safe Communities.”

When Rogers first approached the Mount Horeb Police Department about installing a drop box, the chief of police explained that he had concerns about having a box located in the then-headquarters of the police department, a space shared with the Village of Mount Horeb’s Recreation Department and frequented by children at 222 East Front Street. But when the police moved into a new, $6.1 million station  at 400 Blue Mounds Street in early 2019, both the chief and Rogers agreed it was time to install a drop box. That box has arrived at the station, and it will be open for use once it has been securely bolted to the floor. Check back soon for an update about its status. 

Another initiative being pursued is intended to make doctors rethink the way they prescribe certain medications. 

“We’re making some strides,” Rogers says. “There have been big improvements to prescribing practices, and I’m really proud.” 

Rogers says that she remembers being sent home with painkillers after she had her wisdom teeth pulled, but her own daughter was only sent home with an unfilled prescription. “They told us not to fill it unless we had to,” she says. “I ripped it up.”

Yet another important offensive in the battle against drug addiction is making sure Narcan, which - if administered quickly - can immediately save the life of someone who would otherwise have died from a heroin overdose, more available. Progress has been made there, too. 

But perhaps the most important progress isn’t any specific initiative or device. It’s simply the fact that today, five years after Jesse Cordts died, people are talking openly about addiction. A subject that was once taboo, or that people thought wouldn’t effect them due to class or economic status, has been brought out into the open. 

“I think so,” says Rogers when asked if the conversation is helping. “I mean, there will always be some people who are in denial or think it will never happen to them, but there is definitely a heightened sense of awareness for most people now.” 

The more people talk about addiction, from inspiring stories of survival to crushing ones about the death of a young child or sibling, the more people will realize that help is available, according to Rogers. 

“People don’t realize what’s out there,” she says. “There are so many resources. If you are ever concerned, get involved, get online, reach out, make a phone call - get help.”

None of this will actually bring her brother back. 

“I think, with great certainty, that my brother could have been saved,” Rogers reflects. “I’m proud of what we’re doing, [but] it’s hard.”

And she says Jesse would be proud of her work.

“Oh sure, of course he would,” she comments. “He would have wanted to help other people, too. I’m sure. I know he would, I know he is proud of me.”