A Mother’s Grief Becomes a Crusade Against Fentanyl
Anne Fundner never imagined that losing her 15-year-old son Weston would transform her into a vocal advocate in America’s fight against fentanyl. When Weston died in 2022 after taking a counterfeit Percocet pill laced with the deadly synthetic opioid, Fundner’s world shattered. Today, she channels her grief into purpose as an “Angel Mom,” becoming one of the most recognizable faces in the movement against fentanyl trafficking. “These are murderers,” Fundner told Fox News Digital, referring to drug smugglers. “The people on these ships are murderers delivering a product that will kill hundreds and thousands of people on American soil.” Her personal tragedy has given her a powerful perspective on the Trump administration’s controversial military strikes against suspected drug-smuggling vessels in international waters.
The administration’s aggressive approach to combating drug trafficking has included bombing boats in the Pacific and Caribbean believed to be carrying narcotics or chemical precursors for synthetic opioids. Secretary of War Pete Hegseth recently announced the bombing of a vessel in the Pacific that was “carrying narcotics” and “transiting along a known narco-trafficking route.” These operations have sparked debate in Washington, with critics questioning the legality of striking vessels in international waters without complete intelligence on their cargo. However, the Senate recently rejected a resolution that would have required congressional authorization for such strikes, effectively endorsing the administration’s authority to continue the maritime operations. For families like Fundner’s, these actions represent a meaningful response to their long-standing calls for decisive action against drug traffickers.
The human toll of the fentanyl crisis is staggering, with parents like Fundner and Wanda De Quardo, who lost her son Christian to a fentanyl-laced pill, becoming the faces of a growing movement. “When one boat can carry enough fentanyl to kill millions, there’s no question — those shipments must be stopped,” De Quardo explained. “Traffickers who knowingly charter boats to bring this poison into our communities must be held fully accountable.” Last weekend, families who have lost children to fentanyl poisoning gathered in Washington for their annual day of remembrance, where many expressed support for the administration’s approach. “One boat, two boat, three boat—boom! Who did it? Trump did it!” chanted one mother during the march. These families feel that after years of pleading for meaningful action, they’re finally being heard.
For Fundner, the debate about the legality of maritime strikes misses the human reality of the fentanyl crisis. “People say it’s illegal but these aren’t fishermen,” she insists. “They are narco-terrorists. They don’t care if you’re Democrat or Republican. They’re here to murder your children.” Her perspective is shaped by the personal devastation of losing her son to what she describes as deception – young people unknowingly consuming lethal substances disguised as familiar medications. “No one deserves to be deceived to death,” she said. “These are children who think they’re taking something safe because they’ve seen it prescribed before. It would be like ordering a Jack-and-Coke and being served cyanide.” This reality fuels her support for military strikes against suspected trafficking vessels: “Every ship stopped means lives saved.”
Beyond supporting federal actions, Fundner is working to create change at the state level. In her home state of New Jersey, she has co-authored “Weston’s Law” with Assemblywoman Dawn Fantasia – a six-part bill that would strengthen penalties for drug dealers and what she terms “drug groomers,” individuals who entice teenagers to try counterfeit pills. She expresses frustration with what she sees as a lack of accountability in the current system: “We’ve stopped criminalizing people who push drugs. They’re caught with thousands of pills and told to come back in two weeks, but they’re gone.” She notes that the HALT Fentanyl Act signed by President Trump establishes a 10-year minimum sentence for certain fentanyl-related offenses, and she urges governors nationwide to take similar action in their states.
The fentanyl crisis continues to devastate American families across political lines, with parents like Fundner transforming their grief into advocacy. Their stories highlight the complex intersection of personal tragedy, public policy, and national security that defines America’s response to the fentanyl epidemic. While debates about military tactics and legal authorities continue in Washington, these families measure success in more immediate terms: lives saved and communities protected from a substance so potent that a single smuggling vessel could potentially carry enough to kill millions. For Fundner, who now lives with the daily reality of her son’s absence, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Her advocacy represents not just a mother’s love for her lost child, but a determination to prevent other families from experiencing similar heartbreak. “That’s why these strikes matter,” she says, giving voice to the conviction that drives her ongoing fight against fentanyl trafficking.
