Forty-four.

That’s the number of people county officials know for sure have died from opioid-related drug overdoses so far this year. The real number is likely higher because officials must wait on toxicology reports for confirmation of cause of death.

But despite the steady and tragic accumulation of overdose deaths (there were 74 last year), the county has rarely, if ever, seen what it saw on Tuesday night: a spree of six overdoses in nine hours — all of them within the City of Butler.

The rash of overdoses spared no gender, age or area of the city. The drugs didn’t care if anyone else was around (one woman overdosed in an apartment with two young children home); or whether police, firefighters or EMTs were the ones to pull victims back from the brink of death.

Luckily, no one died — only it wasn’t because of luck that the lives of these people were saved. It was the quick and selfless work of the police officers, firefighters and EMTs who rushed to the scenes of these tragedies and administered a life-saving antidote (Narcan). The same can be said for the three overdose victims revived Wednesday night by emergency responders.

By now it must seem like we’re in familiar territory.

You know that reports show thousands of Pennsylvanians are dying like this each year. You’ve been to one of the county’s forums on the drug epidemic. Perhaps you’ve lost someone you love to the crisis. You know that a once-rare form of death has turned into an everyday occurrence — and not just here, but across the country.

Does it feel normal these days?

Because it’s important to remember that this is not normal. If there’s something good to take away from Tuesday night, that might be it: this is not normal. It’s not acceptable. It’s not American. It’s not who we are.

But reversing this crisis is an urgent task that’s going to take more than pronouncements.

The state desperately needs expanded treatment services for addiction. It needs legislation mandating so-called “warm handoffs” for overdose survivors, to prevent addicts from simply walking away after being revived — as happened after every one of the six overdoses Tuesday night. It needs more readily-available public information on the crisis itself. It needs anti-drug programs that actually work and reach students earlier.

The economic and social costs of this crisis are staggering: thousands of people dead for years on end and millions or billions of dollars in lost wages, productivity and sunk health care costs. The vast scope of the damage can be numbing.

Tuesday night can help remind us that it’s far too easy to become numb. It can remind us to look to the men and women who rush out and save these people if we’re searching for the characteristics that should define our own responses.

Whether we’re a friend, a neighbor, a stranger, or an elected official, we could all learn a lot from their dedication, strength and compassion. We need to, if we’re going to push back against this epidemic.