Recovering heroin users transform drug den into ‘Serenity House’

Newsrooms across the commonwealth have spent years documenting the opioid crisis in their own communities. But now, in the special project State of Emergency: Searching for Solutions to Pennsylvania’s Opioids Crisis, we are marshalling resources to spotlight what Pennsylvanians are doing to try to reverse the soaring number of overdose deaths.

WITF is releasing more than 60 stories, videos and photos throughout July. This week, you will find stories about treatment facilities and recovery.

(Pittsburgh) — Shoot, another hypodermic needle – the third that turned up in half an hour as Gus DiRenna’s crew tore the filthy carpet out of a house on Carrick’s Kirk Avenue.

“Put it in the mailbox outside,” DiRenna said. “It’s our drug disposal thing right now.”

DiRenna, 59, of Whitehall, isn’t squeamish about needles – he’s a recovering addict and former drug dealer. On a May day, he was leading a crew, all in recovery, in renovating what he calls a “Serenity House” in one of Pittsburgh’s most opioid-plagued neighborhoods.

He was facing cracked windows, crumbling plaster, a charred kitchen, a shower wall held together with tape … all the features you’d expect in a 117-year-old, five-bedroom house that ended up on the block watch’s list of drug hotspots.

“See, when I look at this, I see opportunity, job training, kids making a little bit of money,” said DiRenna, recovery director of the ARK Allegheny Recover Krew. “There’s going to be a lot of laughter and fun going on in here.”

While the opioid crisis spurs dozens of policy prescriptions, DiRenna has a simple formula: A person in recovery needs a decent room, a job and a sponsor. He arranges for all three.

“One year today!”” shouted crew member Billy Golya, 31, of Jefferson Hills, referring to his “clean time.” He said he had lived and worked with DiRenna, on and off, for two years, slowly rebuilding his familial ties, finances and dignity.

Golya arrived at one of DiRenna’s Serenity Houses, in Pittsburgh’s West End, with “not a dime” and barely any healthy relationships, he said. Now he has a place suitable to host his four-year-old daughter.

“Knowing I can bring her there, she can spend the night, she can run around in her underwear if she wants to, because little kids love to do that – it’s OK!” he said. “I don’t have 10 other guys in the house.”

He recently bought a motorcycle. More important, he reclaimed himself.

“As an addict, your ego gets cut down and you don’t feel good about yourself when you come around,” he said. DiRenna “helps build you up,” he added. “I can look myself in the mirror now when I shave my face.”

DiRenna runs three Serenity Houses, with 19 tenants, each paying around $450 a month. He expects them to work – for someone else, or for him – and to participate in recovery groups.

DiRenna’s ally, Rev. Jay Geisler, of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in nearby Brentwood, bought the Kirk Avenue property for $13,140, using funds inherited from his father. DiRenna is covering the renovation expenses and supplying the crew. The two hope that by summer’s end, they’ll house five people in recovery and one manager.

In 2015 and 2016, Carrick saw more fatal overdoses than any other city neighborhood, and the area along Brownsville Road remained one of the county’s three worst drug death zones in 2017.

As Pittsburgh Councilman Anthony Coghill toured the Kirk Avenue house with DiRenna, somebody offered a new moniker: “Recovery Road!”

“Recovery Road! I love it. That’s a great handle,” Coghill answered.

“You know there’s 18 active recovery houses in Carrick, as it stands now,” the councilman said. “Some are good, some are bad. … This is definitely what we’re looking for, in this community, guys like Ray and Gus here, who come in and do what we feel is positive recovery.”