PORTLAND, Maine – The opioid epidemic has exacted its blood price from Maine. Since 1999, there has been a more than 500 percent increase in overdose deaths, giving it the eighth-highest mortality rate among states in the nation.

But Maine's story is not one of doom. Quite the opposite. Young people, it turns out, are flocking to Portland from points near and far to recover from substance abuse disorder. They come here to get better, get educated and get jobs.

The state's largest city has become a premier recovery hub on the Eastern Seaboard. The sober-living community in the greater Portland area has increased from a few scattered houses 10 years ago to close to 100 today, say local recovery advocates. The area has a reputation as a safe haven for alcoholics and addicts seeking to buck grim statistics, government studies that show half of those who enter recovery will slide back into long-term substance abuse at some point.

The result: Young people from as far away as Tennessee, North Carolina and Florida are ditching their warm environs for recovery in the northern climes.

"Portland has become a mecca of recovery on the East Coast," says Aaron Shepard, director of The Plymouth House, a New Hampshire-based treatment center. The 12-step-based program led the charge, sending newly recovering addicts and alcoholics to Portland sober living starting in 2009.

"It just kind of happened organically. Portland is a manageable city with employment opportunities and a decent cultural life," Shepard says. "And there is such a solid recovery community. The people who are going there are being taken care of."

Sean's story flies in the face of the endless news on the deadly opioid epidemic. In 2015, the 36-year-old, who didn't want his last name published, landed in a highly structured Portland sober-living community, broken. He'd overdosed on heroin, his life was saved by naloxone, and he'd spent time in prison for drug trafficking. He'd been homeless more than once. With four years clean, Sean has built a career in Maine, recently nabbing a job as a shipfitter.

"I've been to the end of the road," Sean says. "People like us have lived f---ed up lives. We can't just go to a 12-step meeting and get better."

Though troubled sober-living communities in other states are making headlines, Portland sober houses remain relatively free of police contact and controversy. Owners would like it to stay that way. Several have joined forces to establish best practices in the largely unregulated sober-living industry. So far, so good. Though code and law enforcement officials have shut down a few residences over the years, they say most have been good neighbors.

"You're going to have a couple of bad actors in the mix," says Michael Sauschuck, Portland's police chief from 2012 to August 2018. He is now Maine's public safety commissioner. "Once in a while we'd get a complaint from a neighbor concerned about a 'new' sober house in their community. Well, it's probably been there for 10 years. "

Sauschuck worked with recovery advocates and sober-living house owners, maintaining an open-door policy and dedicating an officer as a full-time liaison to the community.

Another positive factor, state officials say, is the influx of young people. Most sober-house residents are in their 20s and 30s. As they recover, many are staying to attend Maine's universities and colleges. They're also settling in to begin careers. This is good for a state with a median age of about 44. Baby boomers are leaving the workforce faster than Maine can replace them. At the same time, there is an increased demand for social services, senior housing and medical care.

Emily, 25, came to Portland three years ago to recover from years of hardcore drug use, a downward spiral that led her to leave college and become unemployable. With nearly three years clean, she has been accepted into a major university's pre-med biology program and maintains a 4.0 grade-point average.

"I am absolutely staying in Portland," says Emily, who didn't want her last name published due to concerns about her career. "I believe I've found a good place for healthy growth in the things that are important to me: recovery, school, work."

State officials say those maintaining recovery and working in Maine are a boon to the economy.

A Rebirth Behind Bars View All 15 Images

"We're glad that our state is a place where people with substance use disorder are able to enter recovery. And we look forward to having them engage in the workforce when they're ready. We're focused on growing our workforce and it's critical that we get as many people into jobs as we can," says Heather Johnson, commissioner of the state's Department of Economic and Community Development.

Still, many newcomers to recovery are hamstrung by criminal convictions. Most employers will not hire felons, making stability elusive and recovery tough to maintain. Margo Walsh, founder and owner of Portland-based MaineWorks, trailblazed a new employment model eight years ago, one that offers jobs, health care and financial aid to those reentering the community after prison or struggling with existing felonies. Walsh employs between 40 and 100 people, supplying labor to landscaping, construction and road projects.

"MaineWorks is there to help people move past the stigma of their past," Walsh says. In most cases, "finding employment is a soul-sucker for this population They feel 'other than.'"

There are other recovery roadblocks that advocates are looking to overcome. Sober living tends to be expensive, and nearly all houses are for-profit. Some Portland-area houses charge between $3,000 and $5,000 per month for premier programs, which include things like rock climbing and flat-screen televisions in rooms. Most operations are more bare-bones, running between $450 and $2,000 per month.

The Family Restored, a 5-year-old Portland nonprofit, helps families pay for treatment and sober living. Raising funds through an annual silent auction and 5K race, the organization was able to give out $151,000 in scholarships in 2018.

The owners of Portland sober-living residences have banded together to address another issue: the absence of regulations for sober living. There is no federal oversight and, in most cases, none by states. This leaves the field open to unscrupulous players. Owners founded a Maine chapter of the National Association for Recovery Residences, or NARR. In 2011, NARR created the Standards & Certification Program, which lays out an ethical code and standards for quality, access and choice. Today, 21 Portland area sober-living houses are NARR-certified

Chapter co-founder Sarah Coupe hopes to get more owners on board. Sober living, she says, can be a life-saving bridge between treatment and independent living. Her three-house sober-living community, Grace House for Women, offers a highly structured program based on the 12-step model of recovery. She says it is a safe place for women to ease back into a regular community.