Jason Robert LeBlanc

Gorham – Jason R. LeBlanc, 41, passed away on September 30, 2020, at Maine Medical Center. He and his medical team fought like hell for a month to overcome the ravages of yet another blood infection. But, in spite of their gallant fight, his always strong body just couldn’t pull it together this time.

And the global epidemic of opioid addiction claimed yet another promising young life too early.

Our beloved Jason was born on April 30, 1979, in Portland, ME, to his family - parents Edward D. and Gail M. Fogg LeBlanc, and big brother, Eddie. He attended Gorham schools and, though he didn’t have much interest in academics, he participated with great flair in soccer and wrestling. He particularly excelled at wrestling. Though he was physically small, he was a tight, mean wrestling machine and lost only one of his high school matches. In fact, both his mom and brother smile when talking about him as “the smallest, toughest, most big-hearted kid around.” He did get side-tracked before graduating high school, but, several years later, he proudly completed his GED.

When Jason and his brother were growing up, the family homestead included a swimming pool, a pool table, and a horseshoe pit. Children and adults alike loved it all. In the summer, the pool was filled with a gazillion cousins and friends. And the teams for the “adult” horseshoe and pool tournaments often included competitive and skilled kids, including Jason. Jason also loved fast machines (dirt bikes and 3-wheelers) and fishing with his dad, which most often involved tromping through the woods to remote streams teaming with fish.

Jason was a “jack-of-many-trades,” working at whatever labor jobs came his way and taking great pride in being a good worker. Most recently he worked with his friend, Mike Barnhart, as a painter and in laying floors. Over the years he also worked as a roofer, installer of ceilings, a landscaper, and much more. He liked to keep busy and enjoyed helping others. One year he helped his aunt replant a lily garden. This was an all day job for his aunt when she did it by herself 4 years earlier, using a hand saw to split the huge roots of the plants. Doing it with Jason was efficient. He split each plant with one strategically placed blow with a shovel. It was also fun - He was curious about the whole process and asked questions as they worked together, and, when his aunt got overwhelmed and disorganized, he helped her reorganize so the poor plants could get replanted before their roots dried out!

Jason was a very sweet child and that stayed with him as an adult as an ethic of caring and sharing. When his extended family heard that Jason was dying, the consensus was, “He’s such a sweet soul. … He never gave up hope. … Family was always the most important thing to him. … (and) the rest of it was just the addiction.” Jason learned generosity in his upbringing and, though his material possessions were few, he was always willing to share what he did have. And he had the ability to be with children on their terms, the children readily recognizing him as a kind, loving and fun adult. Karissa, his niece, remembers how he always took time to check in with her on Facebook or during a call to his mother “just to make sure I was doing okay”. And one time he gave his last $3 to a friend’s children so they could buy penny candy at the neighborhood store. Of course, he then had to call his mother to get him a pack of cigarettes! Another time, when running errands in Portland, he saw an old drunk on a bench going through withdrawal. He used his last dollar to by this lost soul a cheap can of beer. These kinds of stories are part of the untold legacy he left behind.

Jason was predeceased by his grandparents, Aurelle and Anne LeBlanc and Horace (Bud) and Marie Fogg; and by his beloved father, “Big Ed”, who died on February 26, 2019, after many years of struggling with multiple medical problems. He is survived by his mother, Gail; his brother, Eddie, and his wife, Angie Baril; his nephew, Mark Potvin, his wife, Meara, and their son, Maddox; niece, Felicia Baril, her partner, Bryce Mehnert, and their daughter, Melody Mehnert; and last but not least, his niece, Karissa LeBlanc. He is also survived by a whole slew of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends, all of whom will love him for always.

Family wants to extend special thanks to some people. First, Reverend Jeff. Jason so trusted you and appreciated your special way of helping him feel like a worthy human being. Thank you for dropping everything and coming to his side when called. And Mike and Kathy Barnhart. You and your family showed Jason love and care, taking him into your home as one of your own many times. When living with you he had a sense of safety, purpose and belonging. He knew you loved him. Thank you too for the heart-felt and practical ways you supported Jason and our family when Big Ed died.

And we want to extend deep gratitude to Maine Medical Center and their staff. In spite of the COVID pandemic, administration found a safe way for his mom and aunts to sit vigil with Jason, so he didn’t die alone. The R2 nursing staff treated us like royalty and passionately tended Jason. Many nurses took time to tell us a story about their appreciation of Jason – while acknowledging his sometime bad acting in relationship to the addiction, they talked with pleasure about his ability to connect with them as people and to entertain them with his wit and humor. On top of this, the Hospitalists (internal medicine docs specializing in coordinating patient care in hospitals) and the IMAT team (working with all things related to addiction, including specialized care with opioid addiction) were exquisite in their compassionate tending of him and family during this sad, heart-wrenching process. When we were concerned that he might not get needed treatment because of his addiction, they supported our interest in planning to call an ethics committee together to review the case. In the end, their doggedness in pursuing all options and their commitment to making sure that family understood all of Jason’s medical complexities, risks and options allowed us to accept what was and simply be with him. We thank them for their expertise, humanity, and willingness to go the extra mile.

We want to end by acknowledging the difficulties opioid addiction presents for the person with the addiction, for their families, and for their communities. Because family and sober friends need to protect themselves from the ravages of the addiction, the person with the addiction often becomes ostracized from their community. With that, we can forget the beautiful soul our loved one was born with, and still has, hidden behind the dark curtain of the addiction. Also, the person with the addiction forgets who they are at their core, their life energy getting used up by their fight for survival – by keeping withdrawal at bay by finding their next fix, by constantly looking for a roof over their head before the next storm or hustling for food and warm clothing. With this, they lose any sense of worthiness, lovability and, often, hope. As family members and friends, in spite of our own sense of helplessness, fear and anger, we never stop loving them. And, in spite of their crazy fight to survive, they never stop loving us. We share this here to remind us all of the long-lasting, entrenched opioid pandemic that is a by-product of institutional greed in our society. From our hearts to yours - Wishing those of you with an addiction, and your families and friends, love, hope, peace and healing.

Jason will be buried at Hillside Cemetery on Houston Road in Gorham in late spring. We will have a graveside service and hope to gather afterwards to celebrate Jason’s life in community by sharing food and stories. Safety with COVID will determine what that looks like. Watch for further news by word-of-mouth and Facebook. Thank you to all for your warm support and generous donations during this most difficult of times. We feel your love.