Summer 2026 belongs to Jeff Kent.

SAN FRANCISCO – San Francisco says it is making progress on addressing the city’s drug crisis, but that there is still a lot of hard work ahead. The Department of Public Health Today released the latest data on overdose deaths in the city. Those numbers show some progress, but also show there is a long way to go. 

San Francisco’s DPH released the latest data for overdose deaths in the city, a total of 36 for the month of December, and 621 for the whole year. Down from 635 in 2024. 

“I will always emphasize that every single death from an overdose is unacceptable,” said SF Health Director, Dr. Daniel Tsai. “It’s preventable and any of these numbers are far too much. But, I am pleased and encouraged with the direction that we have been trending.”

The city saw a more dramatic drop between 2023 and 24 when the rate dropped from more than 800 overdose deaths.

A mayoral plan

San Francisco Mayor Daniel Lurie touted his breaking the cycle plan, bringing together health services, social services, law enforcement and first responders to address the issue. 

“Just this past year we opened 600 new treatment focused beds, so people on the street can get inside and get help,” said Mayor Lurie.

DPH said progress so far can be attributed to shifting tactics to make sure that those who are struggling have comprehensive treatment. 

“In 2025 we made real progress,” said Dr. Christy Soran from SFDPH. “We move from a disconnected crisis response system that meets people at every stage from a crisis to long-term recovery we’ve invested in what works.”

Word from the top 

Governor Gavin Newsom said San Francisco has made strides in addressing the crisis on the streets. The governor said there must be accountability from those struggling with addiction and homelessness, and accountability for the cities that aim to address the issue.

To qualify for homeless assistance from the state, he said cities need to show measurable progress.

“There is no distribution of funds unless there are strategies and plans to address the issues of encampments on the streets and sidewalks of our cities all across this state,” said Gov. Newsom.

The city is preparing to open its RESET center near the hall of justice, where law enforcement can bring drug users they’ve arrested to sober up and get fast tracked into treatment programs.
 

The fear of flying is less a single phobia than a place where other fears converge. For many people, it’s rooted in one or more anxieties that flying brings into focus — the fear of turbulence, of heights, or of having a panic attack in front of strangers with no escape.

For Vance, being inside an aircraft activates her claustrophobia — a condition she developed at nine years old. A series of surgeries caused her to feel severe anxiety in closed spaces. Her panic attacks increased during her teenage years, especially on airplanes.

“If I’m in a car, I can pull over, open my door and get some relief,” she says. “But when I’m in a plane, there’s no out.”

A safe space to face the fear

Air travel isn’t something that most people can do often enough to ease their anxiety. Each trip can feel like starting all over again.

Luckily, Vance found somewhere to practice being uncomfortable: the Fear of Flying Clinic, a nonprofit support organization hosted at the San Francisco International Airport.

Fran Grant and Jeanne McElhatton, both licensed pilots, founded the clinic in 1976 in San Mateo, California. They created an educational program in order to help Grant’s husband overcome his turbulence anxiety so he could travel to Australia.

The curriculum demystified air travel and addressed the physical and psychological roots of fear. The first clinic welcomed a small group of anxious travelers and, by the end, Grant’s husband was calm enough to sleep through turbulence that had once overwhelmed him.

Today, clients from across California spend two consecutive weekends understanding the mechanics of flight and learning how to rewire their anxious thoughts. A four-day workshop culminates in a round-trip graduation flight to Seattle.

Vance arrives at the clinic on the first day with her mother, Louise, joining eight other participants, including one couple who drove in from Fresno. Volunteers run the workshop — many of whom are nervous flyers and have gone through the clinic themselves — and include instruction from working pilots, air traffic controllers, flight attendants and aircraft maintenance technicians.

Volunteer psychotherapist Paula Zimmerman begins the workshop by asking everyone to introduce themselves and their concerns about flying. Reasons for signing up range widely: panic attacks, childhood trauma from an earthquake, a decades-old rescue mission during the Vietnam War. One participant in their fifties had never even been inside an airplane.

Often, Zimmerman says, they sign up because of an important upcoming trip.

Retrain the brain

Zimmerman wants participants to understand the difference between adrenaline and real danger. Her goal is to help them to distinguish between the thing that’s happening to them and how they think about the thing that’s happening to them.

She writes the letter “A” on a large sheet of paper at the front of the room. A stands for an activating event — like, for example, turbulence.