Done with my shopping at Bon Aire Shopping Plaza, I decided to beat the traffic by using Delwood Drive behind the plaza.

A few minutes later, I found myself confronted by a small car at a standstill and across the road.

I knew something was wrong. As I approached the car, I saw that it had hit a speed limit sign. Because it was bent only slightly, I guessed the car must not have been going very fast when it hit it.

As I pulled closer, I could see a man’s body slumped behind the steering wheel.

Although I was expected soon at an appointment, I knew in good conscience I couldn’t pass by someone who might need help.

I began to feel that scared adrenaline rush you get when faced with an emergency.

I pulled over beside the car and put my emergency signals on. I grabbed my phone and fumbled getting it to the right screen to make a call.

I dialed 911 and my car’s bluetooth kicked in. I heard a man’s voice loudly say over my speakers, “911, what’s you’re emergency?”

I explained that I was driving up the street and found a man — I guessed in his 20s — slumped in the driver’s seat of his car. I said he appeared unconscious.

Two other drivers stopped. The 911 operator was asking me the name of the road, but I wasn’t quite sure.

I shouted out my window to the other drivers for the name of the road. One shouted back “Delwood Drive” and I repeated it to the 911 operator.

Once an ambulance was dispatched, we three drivers, all women, approached the car. Inside the driver was shaking from convulsions.

One woman suggested we open the door of the car to allow the man to get some air.

I didn’t say so at the time, but I wondered if this was a case of a drug overdose while driving.

Just a few days earlier, I had finished writing a news article about the drug addiction problem for Butler County Business Matters, the Butler Eagle’s monthly business publication.

It was our health issue, and I wanted to address the great number of drug overdose emergency calls that are plaguing EMS services and other health services.

In the article, I had reported statistics from a 2014 report on the 20 percent statewide increase in drug-related deaths from the previous year, while the 2015 report said that number had risen another 10 percent from the year before.

In Butler County alone, the report said there were 33 drug-related deaths reported in 2014 and 47 drug-related deaths in 2015, a 42.4 percent increase. The report attributed a majority of the deaths to opioid use and a majority were people in their 20s and 30s.

What I found most shocking was that Butler Ambulance Service reported it had responded to about 150 heroin overdose emergency calls in 2016. But as of only mid-March of this year, it already has responded to 73 overdose emergencies.

As we waited helplessly for the ambulance to arrive, several other drivers pulled over to help. One man and a woman had begun to direct traffic around the accident. A registered nurse pulled up in the back parking lot of the shopping plaza, crossed the street and began taking the man’s pulse.

As we waited, we talked about the heroin crisis occurring all across the nation. Almost everyone said they knew of someone who had been touched by the epidemic.

One woman said she knew of a mother who had buried her 20-year-old child because of an overdose of heroin that was laced with carfentanil, a drug normally used as a large animal tranquilizer. The young man who had died was unable to be revived even with multiple doses of naloxone, the heroin overdose antidote drug.

I have written many articles about naloxone. EMS professionals told me about the amazing drug which brings overdose victims back to life almost instantaneously, but I’d never seen it used.

I had also heard that naloxone will not necessarily revive someone who has used heroin laced with other drugs, such as the commonly-used fentanyl. Fentanyl is a powerful, synthetic opioid similar to morphine, but is 50 to 100 times more potent, according to the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA).

Carfentanil, however, is a synthetic opioid that is 10,000 times stronger than morphine and is considered deadly.

Last year after a rash of overdose deaths linked to carfentanil, the DEA issued a public warning to first responders about the health and safety risks of carfentanil. The report said carfentanil poses a “serious danger to public safety” because it can be absorbed through the skin or accidental inhalation.

After what seemed like an etenity, we finally heard the approaching sirens and my heart raced faster knowing EMS was on the way. It probably took only a few minutes for the ambulance to respond.

A state trooper and an EMS crew pulled up quickly to the scene and paramedics and EMTs went right to work.

With the escalating drug crisis, I began to realize these first responders must go through this heart-wrenching ordeal every day — even several times a day. I thought, surely they have to muster up the courage to go back out every day and fight this often-discouraging battle with drugs.

One of the paramedics gently reclined the driver’s seat and relaxed the man’s body back into the seat. Now we could see the man’s face and knew for sure he was a young man about 20 years old.

The man who had been directing traffic stepped over to us and confirmed the young man was being treated for an overdose.

About 15 feet away from the car, we watched quietly as the emergency crew administered the naloxone into the young man’s lifeless body.

Nothing seemed to happen at first until a paramedic shook the young man’s shoulder slightly and said, “Come on, buddy,” as if he was coaxing the young man out of a deep sleep.

Suddenly, the young man’s eyes opened and he sat up a bit in the seat looking stunned by his surroundings and the people who had gathered around the car.

I could see that there was a circular, washer-shaped object in his mouth, which I later discovered was a device EMTs used to keep his airway open while he was being revived.

A sense of relief washed over me and the small crowd of people stood stunned at the revival they just experienced, something so horrific and at the same time miraculous.

I had to rush off to make my appointment, but not without first thanking the other people who took time out of their day to stop and help a fellow human being.

While our community is experiencing a devastating drug crisis that seems to be spiraling out of control, it was refreshing to know the people of our community are still not ready to look the other way at the drug problem or hold it in disdain, but were ready to band together and do the right thing.

Beth Koop edits Business Matters, a publication of the Butler Eagle.