In Lodge Grass, Montana, a Crow community is working to rebuild after the destruction caused by meth

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Brothers Lonny and Teyon Fritzler walked through the tall grass and cottonwood trees that surrounded their boarded-up childhood home near the Little Bighorn River and dreamed of possibilities for rebuilding. On the rolling prairie in front of the one-story clapboard house, Lonny learned how to ride horses from her grandfather. This is where Teyon learned...

In Lodge Grass, Montana, a Crow community is working to rebuild after the destruction caused by meth

Brothers Lonny and Teyon Fritzler walked through the tall grass and cottonwood trees that surrounded their boarded-up childhood home near the Little Bighorn River and dreamed of possibilities for rebuilding.

On the rolling prairie in front of the one-story clapboard house, Lonny learned how to ride horses from her grandfather. Here Teyon learned how to harvest buffaloberries from her grandmother. There they also had to witness how their father became addicted to meth.

Teyon, now 34, began using the drug with her father when she was 15. Lonny, 41, started after college, which he said was partly due to the stress of caring for his grandfather, who had dementia. Her own meth addiction lasted for years, outlasting the lives of her father and grandfather.

They had to leave their home in Lodge Grass, a town of about 500 people on the Crow Indian Reservation, to recover. Methamphetamine use is widespread here.

The brothers were staying with an aunt in Oklahoma as they learned to live without meth. Their family property has been empty for years - the beams of the horse stable are broken and the roof is collapsing, the garage is tipping over and the house needs extensive repairs. Such crumbling structures are common in this Native American community, which is suffering from the effects of meth addiction. Lonny said repairing some dilapidated houses would cost too much. It is typical for multiple generations to come together under one roof, sometimes for cultural reasons but also due to the housing shortage in the area.

“We have dilapidated houses, one here burned down, a lot of houses that are not livable,” Lonny said as he described the few neighboring houses.

In Lodge Grass, an estimated 60% of residents ages 14 and older struggle with drug or alcohol addiction, according to a local survey commissioned by the Mountain Shadow Association, a local, locally owned nonprofit organization. For many in the community, the dilapidated buildings are a symbol of this struggle. But there are signs of renewal. In recent years, the city has demolished more than two dozen abandoned buildings. Now, for the first time in decades, new businesses are springing up that have become new symbols - symbols of the city's efforts to recover from the effects of meth.

One of these new buildings, a daycare center, was completed in October 2024. A parade of people followed the small wooden building through town as it was delivered on the back of a truck. It replaced a formerly abandoned home that had tested positive for traces of meth.

“People were crying,” said Megkian Doyle, head of the Mountain Shadow Association, which opened the center. “It was the first time you could see new and tangible things coming to the city.”

The nonprofit is also behind the city's newest construction project: a place where families can heal from addiction together. The plan is to build an entire campus in the city that would provide mental health resources, housing for children whose parents need treatment elsewhere and housing for families who work to get by without drugs and alcohol.

Although the project is still years away from completion, locals often stop by to watch the progress.

“There is a ground-level wave of hope that slowly rises up to your ankles,” Doyle said.

Two of the builders of this project are Lonny and Teyon Fritzler. They see the work as an opportunity to help rebuild their community within the Apsáalooke Nation, also known as the Crow Tribe.

“When I started construction, I actually thought God was punishing me,” Lonny said. "But now when I come back and build these walls, I think, 'Wow. This is ours now.'"

Meth “never went away”

Meth use is a long-standing public health epidemic across the United States and is increasingly contributing to the country's overdose crisis. The drug had wreaked havoc in Indian Country, a term that includes tribal jurisdictions and certain areas with Native American populations.

Compared to any other demographic group, Native Americans face the highest rates of meth addiction in the United States.

“Meth has never left our communities,” said AC Locklear, CEO of the National Indian Health Board, a nonprofit organization that works to improve health in India.

Many reservations are located in rural areas, which have higher rates of meth use compared to cities. As a group, Native Americans face high rates of poverty, chronic illness, and mental illness—all risk factors for addiction. These conditions stem from more than a century of systemic discrimination, a byproduct of colonization. Meanwhile, the Indian Health Service, which provides medical care to Native Americans, is chronically underfunded. Cuts under the Trump administration have led to a decline in health care programs nationwide.

LeeAnn Bruised Head, a recently retired health advisor with the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, said that despite the challenges, tribal nations have developed strong survival skills based on their traditions. For example, the Crow Peoples have stuck to the language of their land; Neighbors are often family or viewed as such; and many tribe members rely on their clans to mentor children who eventually become mentors to the next generation themselves.

“The strength here, the support here,” said Bruised Head, who is part of the Crow Tribe. “It doesn’t exist anywhere else.”

Signs of reconstruction

On a recent fall day, Quincy Dabney greeted people arriving for lunch at the Lodge Grass drop-in center. The center recently opened in a former church and is a place where people can come to stay sober or get a free meal. Dabney volunteers at the center. He is also the mayor of the city.

Dabney helped organize community cleanup days starting in 2017, where people picked up trash in yards and along streets. The focus eventually shifted to demolishing empty, condemned homes, which Dabney said had become sites for the sale, distribution and consumption of meth, often during the day when children were playing nearby.

“There was nothing here to stop it,” Dabney said.

However, the problem has not gone away. In 2024, officials broke up a federal drug smuggling operation based on the Crow Reservation that was distributing drugs to other Montana reservations. It was an example of how drug traffickers have targeted tribal nations as sales and distribution centers.

A few blocks from where Dabney spoke stood the remains of a stone building with someone spray-painting “Stop Meth” on its roofless walls. Still, there are signs of change, he said.

Dabney pointed across the street to a field where a trailer had sat empty for years before the city removed it. The city was in the process of demolishing another dilapidated house on the next block. Another house on the same street was being cleaned up for a new tenant: a new drop-in mental health worker.

Just down the street, work was underway on a new addiction recovery campus called Kaala’s Village. Kaala means “grandmother” in Crow.

The first building on the site is a therapeutic nursing home. Plans include accommodation to gradually reunite families, a community garden and a ceremony site. Doyle said the goal is for residents to eventually be able to help build their own tiny homes by working with experienced builders trained to support mental health.

She said one of the most important aspects of this work is “that we finish it.”

Indigenous citizens and organizations said the political chaos of Trump's first year in office highlights the problem with relying on federal programs. It underscores the need for more grassroots efforts like those taking place at Lodge Grass. However, a reliable system to fund these efforts still does not exist. Last year's cuts to federal grants and programs also increased competition for philanthropic money.

Kaala’s Village is expected to cost $5 million. The club will be built up in phases as the money comes in. Doyle said the group hopes to open the nursing home by the spring and the family housing the following year.

The location is just a few minutes' drive from Lonny and Teyon's parents' house. In addition to building the walls of the new facility, they will be trained to provide mental health support. Ultimately, they hope to work with the people returning home to Kaala's village.

As for their own home, they hope to restore it, one room at a time.

“Just little by little,” Lonny said. "We have to do something. We let these young people watch."


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