Father Constantine J. “Charles” Simones considers heroin “the poison of Satan.”

During a recent interview, the 84-year-old Greek Orthodox priest pulled out a photo showing his 21-year-old grandson, Constantine “Costa” Simones, laid out in his casket after dying Feb. 16 of a heroin overdose. Simones said it was the first time Costa, who had color in his face and a serene expression, had looked at peace in three years.

“A sleeping prince,” Simones called his dark-haired grandchild.

Costa Simones had loved his “Papou,” and worried about how he would go on living after his grandfather died, Simones said. Instead, the grandfather ended up standing over his grandson and saying the prayer for the dead at 5 a.m. on a Tuesday. Costa’s father, attorney Thomas Simones, had called his father after finding Costa dead in the basement of his Gallup Lane home in Waterford. Costa’s mother, Katina Simones, was crying, and police were at the home when he arrived, Simones said.

“I used to tell him, Costa, you’re involved in this stuff because Satan is getting back at you because I’m a priest,” Simones said.

Simones served at St. Sophia Greek Orthodox Church for 45 years. Though he is retired, he still assists at St. Sophia, conducts mass at the Three Hierarchs Greek Orthodox Chapel at the University of Connecticut and translates the works of Greek saints.

Simones agreed to share details of his grandson’s last days, saying, “If this will help other souls, I’ll do it.”

In the days following Costa Simones’ death, the grandfather wrote a letter to the editor of The Day after reading that drug dealers accused of selling the same type of heroin that may have killed his grandson had been arrested and freed on bond.

“They’re dispensing murder, and that is not acceptable to humanity,” he said. “I forgive them, but I want them to know the seriousness of what they’re doing.”

Costa Simones started smoking marijuana, which his grandfather considers “the gateway drug,” while attending Clark Lane Middle School, according to Simones.

He progressed to harder drugs, and once he started “mainlining” heroin, or injecting it directly into his veins, Costa Simones “couldn’t get the monkey off his back,” the grandfather said.

“I can’t remember how many rehab programs he went to,” Simones said. “It’s this broken world Costa had to be born into, this dangerous time.”

Like many addicts, Costa Simones was arrested for petty larceny and other misdemeanors, and at one point, his grandfather said, a judge sentenced him to 65 days in prison, saying, “I want to save your life.”

“That didn’t do a damn thing,” the grandfather said.

Costa Simones tried Suboxone, a drug used to manage opioid addiction, but ended up selling the medication on the street, the grandfather said. He had overdosed twice before he took his fatal dose. Two weeks before his death, he collapsed in the area of Farmington Avenue in New London, his grandfather said. Somebody called an ambulance, and emergency medical technicians revived him with Narcan, his grandfather said.

“After he was revived at the hospital, the doctor said, ‘You were blue in the face. You were dead. An hour after that happened, he was sitting in his driveway like nothing happened,” Simones said.

Simones and his grandson attended a Feb. 4 candlelight vigil in New London. They drove in separate cars to the vigil, which was organized by the nonprofit group Community Speaks Out in response to a spike in heroin and opiate overdoses.

“I insisted that he go,” Simones said. “I wanted to make connections with people. He reluctantly came. From the moment we left Waterford to when we got there, he took something.”

Costa was under the influence of drugs when he arrived at Parade Plaza, according to his grandfather. He was anxious, boisterous and jumpy, and when New London Mayor Michael Passero spoke about all the users New London firefighters had saved with Narcan, Costa Simones yelled loudly, “I was one of them.”

Kenneth W. Edwards Jr., a member of Community Speaks Out and a retired New London police captain, pulled Costa Simones aside. A representative from Stonington Institute, a drug treatment organization, offered him a treatment placement on the spot, Edwards said, but Costa declined.

The elder Simones was elsewhere in the crowd. He had worn his cassock, or priest’s robe, and said a mother came up to him with a picture of her son, who had died of a heroin overdose. Simones said he made the sign of the cross and said, “May he rest in peace.”

When he caught up to his grandson, Simones said, the police had restrained him, confiscated a bag of marijuana and taken away his car keys.

“It bothered me that this kid was sick, he was addicted, and they were treating him like a criminal,” Simones said. “But he was a criminal.”

A week before Costa Simones died, the grandfather said he “got a message” from Porphyrios, an elder saint, who came to him and said, “Confession.”

“Costa was in my house in the basement, and I said, ‘Costa, let’s have confession.’ He was kneeling on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. I think he feared that because of his sinful way of life, abusing his body the way he was, that he was in danger.”

Though Costa Simones had stolen from his family in the throes of his addiction, Simones he always ended his conversations by saying, “I love you, Papou. I love you, dad. I love you, mother.”

It was, ‘I know I’m doing wrong. I know I’m hurting you. But I love you,’” said the grandfather. “He knew down deep he was doing bad, and from the depths of his soul he was calling for help.”

Simones said his grandson’s quest for salvation did not end with his physical death. Simones received a letter from a bishop and archbishop of his church saying there would be 40 days of Eucharist, specifically for the repose of Costa’s soul, at St. Nektarious in Roscoe, N.Y.

In his obituary, the Simones family wrote, “We tried so hard to save you, but you lost the war, you will remain in our hearts forever until we meet again in heaven.”

k.florin@theday.com