Tag: crime and public safety

After 8-year legal battle, Dracut doctor pleads guilty in landmark opioid case

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WOBURN — A case that stretched more than eight years reached its conclusion this week, as retired Dracut physician, Dr. Richard Miron, pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter and other charges tied to the illegal prescribing of opioids that led to a Lowell patient’s death.

Attorney General Andrea Campbell’s office said Miron, 83, became the first doctor in Massachusetts to be convicted on involuntary manslaughter for prescribing opioids — a conviction that stemmed from the 2016 death of 50-year-old Michelle Craib. He also pleaded guilty to defrauding MassHealth and illegally prescribing medication to patients for no legitimate medical purpose.

Miron was ultimately sentenced in Middlesex Superior Court in Woburn on Monday to what amounts to five years of probation, allowing him to avoid prison time.

Miron’s attorney, Stephen Weymouth, said on Wednesday that he was prepared and confident to go to trial in a case that has faced a series of delays over the years, but after a conversation with his client earlier this month, the main concern became the possibility of serving time behind bars.

“From the very beginning he said, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong, and I want to go to trial,’” Weymouth said about Miron. “But then he said he did not want to go to jail.”

Weymouth pointed out that Miron was facing 47 charges, and any one of them could have resulted in a jail sentence. He said that prosecutors had previously sought four to five years in a plea deal, and the involuntary manslaughter charge carried a maximum of 20 years.

“Going to trial would have been a mistake because all it would have taken was one guilty hook and he would have gotten a pretty lengthy sentence, and I just couldn’t do that. I just couldn’t take any chances,” Weymouth said. “If he had gone to trial and lost, who knows what would have happened.”

Miron was indicted by a Middlesex County grand jury in December 2018 following an investigation that began in September 2017 by the AG’s Office, then headed by now-Gov. Maura Healey. Aside from involuntary manslaughter, he was charged with 23 counts of illegally prescribing controlled substances and 23 counts of filing false Medicaid claims.

From September 2015 to February 2016, the AG’s Office said Miron, a solo practitioner of internal medicine, was the largest provider of high-dose, short-acting oxycodone prescriptions among all MassHealth care providers statewide.

The Chief Medical Examiner’s Office determined Craib’s death was caused by acute intoxication from the combined effects of fentanyl, morphine, codeine, and butalbital — all prescribed by Miron. The AG’s Office said Miron was aware that Craib had previously overdosed on opioids he had prescribed, yet he continued to issue large doses to her on multiple occasions leading up to her death.

Prosecutors also said Miron illegally prescribed opioids to several other at-risk patients for no legitimate medical purpose. The illegal prescriptions Miron issued led pharmacies to unknowingly submit false bills to MassHealth for medication.

MassHealth terminated Miron from its program in September 2017, and he stopped practicing medicine in November 2018, following an agreement with the Massachusetts Board of Registration in Medicine.

In 2023, Miron’s daughter, Linda Miron, penned a 17-page letter to the AG’s Office urging that the case be dropped. She argued that prosecuting her father — who had already relinquished his medical license and lived under pretrial probation since 2018 — was not in the interest of justice.

“To bring this flawed case to trial does not seem to me to be the best use of the Commonwealth’s resources, and I urge you to drop your prosecution of this case in the interest of justice,” Linda Miron said in the letter. “More broadly, I fear that prosecuting someone who was willing to take on disenfranchised, medically and psychologically complicated patients here in the Commonwealth, when some other physicians refused to take on MassHealth patients, will further discourage other physicians from treating these patients who deserve compassionate care.”

The case marched on until Monday, when Miron appeared in Middlesex Superior Court before Judge Cathleen Campbell, where it was finally resolved.

According to the AG’s Office, Miron was sentenced to two and a half years in a house of correction on illegal prescribing, suspended for five years — meaning he will serve the term as probation rather than prison time, unless he violates probation, in which case the sentence could be imposed. He was sentenced to five years of probation on the involuntary manslaughter charge. For Medicaid fraud, Miron was sentenced to six months in a house of correction, suspended for five years.

As part of his probation, Miron was ordered to pay full restitution to MassHealth and barred from practicing medicine or seeking reinstatement of his license.

According to Weymouth, Miron was glad to put the case behind him and most of all to avoid prison time. He noted that Miron had already given up his medical career and had no intention of practicing again.

“I’m glad it’s over,” Weymouth added. “I know he’s glad it’s over.”

In a press release announcing the case’s conclusion on Tuesday, the AG’s Office said the case reflects their “commitment to addressing the root causes of the opioid crisis and holding companies and individuals accountable for their role in contributing to the nationwide epidemic.”

Earlier this year, the release states, Campbell helped negotiate a $7.4 billion settlement in principle with Purdue Pharma and the Sackler family, which is expected to bring up to $105 million to Massachusetts. To date, the office said they have secured more than $1 billion in opioid-related recoveries, with more than $390 million already received. Those funds are being directed to the state’s Opioid Recovery and Remediation Fund and distributed to cities and towns to support prevention, harm reduction, treatment and recovery efforts.

The AG’s Office added in the release that valuable assistance with the investigation into Miron’s case was provided by the Lowell Police Department, the State Police, the Drug Enforcement Administration, and MassHealth.

Follow Aaron Curtis on X @aselahcurtis, or on Bluesky @aaronscurtis.bsky.social.

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Aaron Curtis

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November 19, 2025
Slain sheriff’s deputy embraced life, realized dream of patrolling Rancho Cucamonga
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Sobs. Deep breaths. Tears.

Mourners exhibiting their depth of feeling struggled at times to pay tribute during the funeral service on Tuesday, Nov. 18, for San Bernardino County sheriff’s Deputy Andrew Nunez, who was slain as he arrived at a home in Rancho Cucamonga on Oct. 27 in an attempt to rescue a woman who authorities say was being forced into a car at gunpoint by her ex-husband.

Nunez, 28, had been a deputy for six years when a man identified as Angelo Jose Saldivar hid behind a building and fired a single shot when Nunez got out of his patrol car on Hollyhock Drive. Saldivar fled on a motorcycle and was arrested after a deputy used his car to knock over Saldivar’s bike as it sped away on the 210 Freeway in Upland. Saldivar has pleaded not guilty to murder, attempted kidnapping and other charges.

“There was a victim in distress, and Andrew got to her as soon as possible,” sheriff’s Capt. Mike Smith, who was Nunez’s commander at the Rancho Cucamonga station, said at the Toyota Arena in Ontario. “He ran toward danger to protect a victim he did not know. His life was taken by the senseless act of a coward.”

Nunez is survived by his wife, 2-year-old daughter and an unborn daughter.

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A San Bernardino County sheriff’s Honor Guard fold the flag a top slain Deputy Andrew Nunez’s casket during funeral services at Toyota Arena in Ontario on Tuesday, Nov. 18, 2025. Nunez was shot to death in the line of duty while responding to a domestic violence call in Rancho Cucamonga on Oct. 27. (Photo by Will Lester, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin/SCNG)

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The stage was adorned with photographs and flowers. An honor guard stood watch beside the casket draped with an American flag.

Nunez’s mother, Yolanda, described her son as having strong convictions, fearless, impulsive, “stubborn at times, yes … ready to embrace life with both hands. He always looked out for me, that I was loved, that I was OK.”

A supporter rubbed Nunez’s arm as she spoke through her tears.

“He loved praying. He loved playing golf …

“I can’t … Nunez said, unable to continue.

The supporter took over Nunez’s eulogy.

“I will forever carry the honor of having loved him and the even bigger honor of having been loved by him,” she said.

Nunez’s wife, Roxana, wore dark glasses as she spoke inside the 11,000-seat arena that hosted law enforcement officers from Southern California and beyond.

“He was an incredible father and loving partner,” she said. “He was ambitious and fearless, always pushing himself. But he had the softest heart when it came to our family.”

She inhaled deeply.

“He was proud to stand beside all of you,” Nunez’s wife said. “He made things lighter, he made things better. And if he were here now, he’d be laughing at us for crying. … I love you, baby.”

Andrew Nunez grew up without a strong father figure in his life, Roxana Nunez said, so as the eldest child in the family, he pushed his four siblings to “never give up and be strong. As he got older, he learned to step back a bit, but he never truly left. He was always there on the sideline, ready to help.”

When it came to sports, Nunez was rarely on the sideline. He played football, basketball and soccer, and he was a member of the football team at Los Osos High in Rancho Cucamonga, Deputy Chief Ernie Perez said. And Nunez was a fan of the Lakers and Dodgers.

“Especially the Dodgers,” Perez said.

Nunez dreamed early on of becoming a sheriff’s deputy and patrolling Rancho Cucamonga, where he attended church at the time of his death. He told anybody who’d listen, including co-workers at a cellular company.

“Andrew’s friend told me he talked too much to customers and he talked himself right out of sales,” Capt. Smith said, adding that Nunez made sure to tell his bosses when he exceeded sales goals.

Nunez graduated from the sheriff’s academy in September 2019 and worked in the jails and in transportation before getting the call to realize his dream by reporting to the Rancho Cucamonga station for patrol duty almost three years ago. Most recently, he was assigned to the theft detail at Victoria Gardens, where he kept his partners entertained with his witticisms and good-natured sarcasm, Smith said.

Nunez was training harder and eating healthier foods as he sought a coveted position on the SWAT team.

“I have no doubt you were going to be a member of the SWAT team,” Smith said.

Sheriff Shannon Dicus remembered Nunez as “a servant, a guardian and a protector.”

“To Andrew, it didn’t matter that they were strangers. What mattered was that it was his duty as a peace officer and most of all, it was his duty to his lord and savior, Jesus Christ. He established a legacy of service that will echo far beyond this moment in the hearts of everyone who had the privilege of knowing him.”

A colleague and friend, Sgt. David Rayenhartz, said he would counsel Nunez on how to improve his work, and he did. Rayenhartz exhorted Nunez to exceed the sergeant’s accomplishments and said Nunez did, as a father, husband and cop.

Rayenhartz paused a few times to compose himself.

“He was simply Andrew … he was like a son,” Rayenhartz said.

Toward the end of the two-hour ceremony, a video showed images of Nunez with family and friends at various stages of his life. It concluded with his eldest daughter pulling a photo of her father, in his deputy’s uniform, off a table. She placed it on the floor and kissed it.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed.

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Law enforcement and guests arrive for the funeral of slain San Bernardino County sheriff’s Deputy Andrew Nunez prior to funeral services at Toyota Arena in Ontario on Tuesday, Nov. 18, 2025. Nunez was shot to death in the line of duty while responding to a domestic violence call in Rancho Cucamonga on Oct. 27. (Photo by Will Lester, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin/SCNG)

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For the past few months, Emmanuel Porter-Taylor and other young men housed at Colorado’s Youthful Offender System detention facility in Pueblo have complained to their parents about being hungry.

Meal portions seem to be getting smaller and smaller. The canteen, where incarcerated teens and young adults can buy snacks and other food items, is only reserved for those who have achieved higher privilege levels based on good behavior.

Porter-Taylor lost 20 to 30 pounds in recent weeks, his mother told The Denver Post. His eyes began to yellow. He couldn’t keep water down. Staff gave him Tylenol and told him to sleep, his mother, Ivory Taylor, said in an interview.

“Mom,” his mother said he told her last week, “I think they’re trying to kill me.”

The 22-year-old ended up in the hospital, where doctors concluded that his condition was caused by malnutrition, according to his family. When Porter-Taylor was stable, the hospital released him back to the detention center with a referral to see a kidney specialist as soon as possible. Doctors also said he needed to double his daily food intake, the family said.

Administrators at the state’s facility for young violent offenders said he’d have to wait six months to see a specialist, the family said. He was not given additional food.

On Sunday, Porter-Taylor was rushed back to the hospital, suffering from full renal failure, according to a letter sent by a juvenile justice advocate to a state senator. He was flown the following day from Pueblo to a Denver hospital.

His family, though, says they have no idea how he’s doing because the Colorado Department of Corrections reported they couldn’t find his “release of information” document, emails show. The family knows they filled it out.

“I want him to pay his debts and get out alive,” Taylor said of her son, who isn’t eligible for parole for two more years. “I don’t want to bury my 22-year-old kid.”

Parents say they’re worried their kids could be next. Ten mothers told The Post this week that they have watched their boys lose concerning amounts of weight over the past few months, as they complain about the lack of sufficient food at the 256-bed facility. Some have yellowing in their eyes. Others have fainted, become dizzy or found blood in their stool.

These accounts led a juvenile justice organization, the National Center for Youth Law, to sound the alarm and alert Colorado lawmakers and state corrections officials.

“They don’t even treat prisoners of war like this,” said one of the mothers. All but Taylor spoke to The Post on the condition of anonymity because they fear reprisal against their children.

A spokesperson with the Department of Corrections, which runs the Pueblo facility, declined to provide information on Porter-Taylor’s condition, citing federal and state privacy laws.

The department has gradually decreased the calorie count provided to those housed in the YOS detention facility in recent years to align with federal guidelines, said Alondra Gonzalez, a DOC spokesperson. Food is never withheld as a punitive measure, she said.

“All individuals in our custody receive appropriate food and medical care,” she wrote in a statement provided to The Post on Friday evening.

‘We hardly get anything’

The Colorado legislature established the Youthful Offender System, known as YOS, in 1993 in response to Denver’s “summer of violence,” a period marked by heightened youth homicides. Senate Bill 93S-009 provided the state with a new “middle tier” sentencing option, where certain youth offenders could be sentenced as adults directly into YOS.

These individuals “serve their sentence in a controlled and regimented environment that affirms dignity of self and others, promotes values of work and self-discipline, and develops useful skills and abilities through enriched programming,” corrections officials said in the 2024 YOS annual report.

The facility, which only houses violent offenders, was originally designed for those between the ages of 14 and 17 at the time of their offense, though a 2009 bill expanded the eligibility criteria to include 18- and 19-year-olds. Sentences cannot be shorter than two years and cannot exceed six years.

YOS touts a three-level model, designed to reward positive behavior. At level 3, individuals get unlimited visits and phone calls, video games, movies and free weights. They can also buy items such as deodorant or snacks from the canteen.

But those at lower levels cannot purchase food from the canteen, nor can they receive food packages from their family.

That leaves them reliant on prison meals that keep getting smaller and smaller, the parents who spoke to The Post said. Portions began to shrink a few months ago, these mothers said. One said entrees could fit in the palm of their hand.

Breakfasts have included an English muffin and a sausage. Lunch could be beans with two tortillas. Dinner might consist of four mini corndogs and a cup of macaroni and cheese.

“You feed our dog more than what we get on our plate,” another parent recounted their teen telling them this week. “We hardly get anything.”

YOS menus provided to The Post by the Department of Corrections show a variety of different meals. One recent lunch included one slice of cheese pizza, a cup of tossed green salad with olives and croutons, one cup of canned fruit and one cup of punch. A recent dinner consisted of one cup of spinach lasagna, salad, a slice of Texas toast and peach crisp.

Parents say their children’s weight loss has been extreme and noticeable. Many lost as many as 30 pounds in less than two months.

Without the ability to send food through the mail or use their canteen funds, parents have been forced to feed their children as much as they can during in-person visits. That means relying on whatever the vending machine in the lobby has left. Sometimes, it’s nearly bare.

“When you see a dog on the street that hasn’t eaten in a week,” a third mother told The Post, “that’s what he looked like.”

One individual who was incarcerated at YOS until last month said he relied on the canteen to supplement their meals. Without it, “it would have been tough,” he said, speaking on the condition of anonymity because they’re still on probation and fear reprisal. Sometimes, those on higher levels would try and sneak food to their lower-level friends, he said, but they risked being demoted themselves.

Recently, a group of 12 young people wrote a letter to leadership requesting more food, among other changes, one parent said. The boy who wrote the letter got put in solitary confinement, they said.

Gonzalez, the DOC spokesperson, said the level system is a “standard correctional practice to promote positive behavior,” but that meals are never withheld as a punitive measure. The DOC is “reviewing the current phases to determine whether any adjustments are necessary.”

Last month, another mother wrote a letter to the DOC, pleading with leadership to address the food shortage and punitive commissary policy.

“Adequate nutrition is not a privilege,” this woman wrote in the letter, which was reviewed by The Post. “It is a fundamental necessity for health and rehabilitation.”

The mother said DOC never replied.

In response to inquiries from state Sen. Judy Amabile this week, a corrections official acknowledged that YOS did “reduce caloric intake” for inmates due to the agency’s dieticians and the Department of Human Services “agreeing that the average (body mass index) of YOS offenders was higher than what was considered healthy within the age group.”

The average age of YOS offenders has risen over time, which means less caloric needs, Kayla Shock, the DOC’s legislative liaison, said in an email reviewed by The Post. If an individual requires additional calories, they will be assessed by the medical provider and provided an additional snack, she wrote.

YOS data shows the average age inside the facility has increased to 19.1 years old in 2024 from 16.8 years old in 2007.

During fiscal year 2022-2023, males in YOS received 3,200 calories per day, while females received 2,600 calories, Gonzalez said. Beginning in 2024-2025, those numbers dropped to 2,700 calories for men and 2,200 for women.

Gonzalez said the agency changed its food allotments to align with federal standards updated every five years by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. When these updates occur, she said, the state’s team of registered dietitians reviews the changes to ensure their menus are up to date.

Amabile, a Boulder Democrat who has worked on juvenile justice bills, called the calorie reduction “surprising.”

“If they’re cutting the number of calories that kids get every day — which includes people of different sizes — I would want to know: Is that healthier for them or is that a cost-cutting measure?” she said.

‘I don’t know if my son’s alive’

Porter-Taylor’s biological mother and the woman who had been his legal guardian say they haven’t been able to get updates on their son’s condition.

In an email, a health services administrator told Taylor that “we don’t have anyone designated as the point of contact to release medical information.”

Both Taylor and his former legal guardian, who has the power of attorney and considers him her son, remember these documents being filled out.

“Now it’s been six days since this surgery and I haven’t heard from my son,” Taylor said, “I don’t know if my son’s alive or not.”

If the details surrounding Porter-Taylor’s malnutrition are true, then this facility “now more closely resembles a concentration camp,” Dana Walters Flores, senior program manager for the National Center for Youth Law, wrote in a letter to Amabile this week.

“Young people paying a debt to society by serving time in a secure facility are still our sons and daughters — to turn a blind eye while youth in the custody and care of the state of Colorado are starving is unconscionable,” she wrote.

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