Sunshine poured through the windows Sunday afternoon at the Deep Ellum Community Center, casting a spotlight on about two dozen people celebrating a vending machine born through collaboration and a call to combat a problem.
Instead of being stocked full of snacks and drinks, this vending machine is filled with life-saving medicine that reverses drug overdoses. And the treatment is free to those who need it.
As a DJ played “Kiss” by Prince and people sipped fruity cocktails in a room surrounded by vibrant artwork, local photography and exhibits on the neighborhood’s history, the vending machine rotated in the middle of the room. Blue lights pointed at the rectangular metal box decorated with graffiti-type artwork and gold detailing, including the words “FREE NARCAN” in a Gothic font.
The Narcan vending machine isn’t the first of its kind in the country, or even Texas, but it’s the first in Dallas, according to the nonprofits that installed it.
During its reporting for “Deadly Fake” — the newspaper’s award-winning project about fentanyl’s grip on North Texas — The Dallas Morning News reported on a similar effort in Austin and found examples of other vending machines that had been installed throughout the state, including in Galveston. Cynthia Pursley, who runs Livegy, has also donated and distributed several packages of Narcan to bars and restaurants in North Texas sans a vending machine.
Pursley was at the unveiling to discuss how to use Narcan and conducted two demonstrations showing best practices for administering the drug, such as having the person who is overdosing lay on their back. Packages of Narcan were also available for attendees to take with them.
She said although the community is becoming more aware of the dangers of fentanyl, people still seem nervous or afraid to use Narcan.
“They’re afraid they may do something wrong,” she said. “Don’t be afraid to use this. It’s easy.”
Narcan is a well-known brand name for naloxone, a medication that rapidly reverses opioid overdoses. Each nasal spray bottle contains a single dose of the medicine.
Vending machines like the newly operating one at the community center combat drug-poisoning deaths by making the medication more accessible. In addition to the increased accessibility, this option also allows people to obtain the naloxone in a more anonymous manner.
An immediate need
Fentanyl is a problem that needs to be addressed in a hurry, according to the nonprofits.
The U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration reports that seven out of 10 pills seized by the agency are laced with a lethal dose of fentanyl — a fact some attendees gasped at out of surprise.
More than 770 drug-poisoning related deaths were recorded in Dallas-Fort Worth in 2022, according to data from the Texas Department of State Health Services. Though, medical experts and officials have said data on how many people die from drug poisonings is delayed and lacking the full scope.
Pursley said people who are “boots on the ground” are able to see where the needs are faster than data can keep up at the moment.
The Deep Ellum vending machine was installed through a partnership between nonprofits Livegy and Conscience Conduit. A number of other organizations and people helped, including the Association for Individuals Impacted by Addiction, Regular People, Parkland Health, Jerry Fernandes (who refurbished the vending machines), former Garland council member Deborah Morris and others. Artists Ace Cordell, Kaia Beggs and Tyson Summers also designed and created the machines.
Anthony Delabano with Conscience Conduit said he saw the need for something like this and instead of waiting he said, “Let’s just do it.”
It took about a month from him proposing the idea to make it a reality, he said.
“My hairs are raising up,” Delabano said, pointing to his arm. “It was a little bit of blind faith to jump in and do something like this — it costs money and resources — but you just have to do the right thing and this is that.”
Delabano said the rising number of public discussions surrounding fentanyl and initiatives like the vending machines are a “new level of D.A.R.E,” referring to the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program first rolled out in schools across the country in the 1980s.
“This is extremely important and we need to do it,” he said, looking down at his 9-year-old daughter, Autumn. “I’m doing this for them.”
His wife, Ashley, and their other child, 7-year-old, Fitz, were also at the unveiling.
“He’s famous,” Autumn said while munching snacks as Delabano spoke to the crowd.
“He’s compelled,” Ashley said, patting her daughter’s hair. “It’s his passion and he wants to fill the need that’s most immediate.”
