When Charles Marotto was recently sentenced to five years in prison for providing a fatal hit of heroin to a man he considered a friend, few people left the courtroom happy.
Not Marotto. Not the victim’s father. Not the judge. Not the prosecutor. Not the defense attorneys.
Marotto, 28, of Silver Lake, was the 21st person in Summit County sentenced to prison for giving or selling heroin to someone who died from an overdose since 2013.
With 29 indictments during the past three years, Summit County is taking a more aggressive approach to prosecuting these cases than other like-size counties in Ohio, including Lucas and Montgomery with only a few cases each. Summit has even outpaced some larger counties, including neighboring Cuyahoga, which indicted about 15 people for heroin deaths in the past three years and has several cases pending.
The involuntary-manslaughter charges are a new approach in Ohio to punish those supplying deadly doses of heroin or other opioid drugs in an epidemic that has gripped the nation. But some local defense attorneys question whether the cases are fair — the person taking the heroin did so willingly. And even prosecutors, judges and victims’ families wonder if sending people to prison — some addicts themselves — will make a difference in the battle against a drug that claimed more than 150 lives in Summit County last year.
“This is one attempt to address the problem,” Summit County Prosecutor Sherri Bevan Walsh said in a recent interview. “It’s important to hold the dealers responsible. It’s not going to solve the problem.”
Not all of the people charged are big-time dealers. Some are addicts who sold or gave heroin to a friend to feed their own habits.
None of the cases in Summit County Common Pleas Court has gone to trial so far. The defendants pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter or a lesser charge and were sentenced to two to eight years in prison. Eight cases are still pending.
Victims’ families
The family members of those who have died from taking heroin range from vengeful to merciful.
Jacquelyn Keller, the sister of 62-year-old Georgia Speck of Akron who died in September after taking fentanyl that was sold to her by Renardo Owens, spoke kindly to Owens during his recent sentencing. Fentanyl is a powerful pain medicine often mixed with heroin.
“You’re young,” she said. “You can take this time and try to turn your life around.”
However, Brad Keen, Speck’s boyfriend, said Speck’s children and grandchildren will never see her again “because of him,” and pointed to Owens. This prompted an uproar, with one of Owens’ supporters being ejected.
Keen urged Summit County Common Pleas Judge Todd McKenney to give Owens the maximum 11 years in prison and called Owens a “bastard” before sitting down. McKenney went with the eight-year sentence recommended by the prosecutor.
During a recent sentencing hearing for Marotto, Stanley Carter, the father of Aaron Carter, 23, who died July 25 after taking heroin Marotto gave him, told Marotto, “I never wanted to see you put in prison.”
Rebecca Reger, Carter’s sister, however, delivered a different message as she tearfully recalled finding her brother’s body. She asked for more than the six years in prison being recommended by Assistant Prosecutor Joe Dangelo.
“I feel serving time is the least you can do for all of the life you sucked out of the people you sold to,” Reger told Marotto.
Marotto originally was sentenced to five years in prison last month by Summit County Common Pleas Judge Lynn Callahan, who later vacated the sentence because of a potential conflict of interest. Judge Tammy O’Brien subsequently handed down an identical sentence.
Defense attorneys
Some defense attorneys question whether these cases should be prosecuted at all.
Brian Pierce, one of two attorneys who represented Marotto, doesn’t think his client deserved prison time. He said Marotto and Carter were friends and fellow addicts who bought and shared heroin. Marotto took some of the same heroin that killed Carter.
“I understand the system is struggling with how to deal with this epidemic,” Pierce said. “They are trying to find a solution. I don’t think giving an addict five years in prison is the solution. It doesn’t make sense to me.”
Pierce thinks the money going to prosecute these cases would be better spent on prevention, education or treatment.
Scott Rilley, who represented Tydon Beaver, 20, one of three people charged in the January 2015 death of Brandy Amaro, 33, also has questions about these cases. Rilley pointed out that the involuntary manslaughter statute says the defendant caused the death of another person as the “proximate” result of committing a felony — in this case, providing the person with heroin. He said Amaro died from injecting herself with heroin, not from Beaver and the co-defendants giving her the illegal drug.
“I still think the proximate cause on all of them doesn’t match up,” Rilley said.
John Alexander, Owens’ attorney, said he understands why prosecutors are being tough. Owens was on probation for drug trafficking when he was charged for Speck’s heroin death.
“It is an epidemic and needs to be attacked from every angle possible,” Alexander said.
Prosecutors
Walsh, the Summit County prosecutor, said prosecuting heroin deaths is part of a multifaceted approach to addressing heroin.
“We are not picking this over treatment and prevention,” she said.
Assistant Summit County Prosecutor Brad Gessner said charges aren’t being pursued in every heroin death. Detectives make a presentation to assistant prosecutors who decide if charges are warranted.
He said there must be a link between the person who provided the heroin and the person who died.
“We’re being very careful in how we’re charging,” Gessner said.
Summit County is charging the defendants with involuntary manslaughter and corrupting another with drugs, both felonies, along with a lesser drug charge such as trafficking in heroin. All three of the charges have increased significantly in the past three years.
Walsh said the amount of time given in the cases varies based on the judge, who looks at a variety of information.
“If you are selling, you’re more likely to get more time than if you are a friend who is providing it,” Walsh said.
Defendants, families
Those charged with heroin deaths are apologetic, expressing regret to their own families and the families of their victims.
“My mother raised me way better than this,” said Brandon Bartoe, 20, one of three defendants incarcerated for the death of Amaro. “If given the chance, I would do things way differently.”
Kim Bartoe, Brandon’s mother, said her only son suffered from an addiction that treatment didn’t help.
“Addiction — it’s a disease, and it’s tearing our youth apart,” she said.
Beaver similarly apologized to his victim’s family and to his mother during his sentencing.
During his first sentencing hearing, Marotto turned to Carter’s family and addressed them directly.
“I loved your son,” he said. “He was my friend. I’m sorry.”
His mother, Elizabeth Marotto, said she is glad to see her son working toward sobriety. She said she feels bad for Carter’s family. After her remarks, she hugged Stanley Carter, Carter’s father.
Judges
The judges handling the heroin-death cases clearly struggle with them as well.
“This certainly isn’t about me, but I am so tired of these cases,” Callahan said during Marotto’s first sentencing, noting that several heroin-death cases have landed on her docket.
Callahan said sending the defendants to prison is “not helping anything.”
During Marotto’s first sentencing hearing, Callahan urged him to continue his sobriety.
“As remorseful as you are, you can never feel their loss,” she said of the victim’s family. “You can honor him by cleaning up and helping others. You are an addict and always will be.”
Likewise, Judge Todd McKenney said before sentencing Owens that he gets to see “the tragedies of people’s lives.” He said he mourns for both the victim and Owens and hopes Owens makes the most of his prison time.
“We cannot bring the victim back,” McKenney said. “From this, perhaps other people who deal drugs will understand a lengthy prison term comes with that.”
Stephanie Warsmith can be reached at 330-996-3705, swarsmith@thebeaconjournal.com and on Twitter: @swarsmithabj.