Pubdate: Wed, 6 Jun 2001 Source: Los Gatos Weekly-Times (CA) Copyright: 2001 Metro Publishing Inc. Contact: http://www.mapinc.org/media/249 Website: http://www.lgwt.com Author: Mary Ann Cook Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/pot.htm (Cannabis) SLASH AND BURN Saratogan Leads Commando-Type Operation To Stamp Out Marijuana Growers Is it a bird? Is a plane? No, it's Sonya Barna, sometimes nicknamed The Patton of Pot, being dropped down from a helicopter, as part of her team--and her mission--to wipe out as much marijuana in California, as possible. Barna is operations commander of the Campaign Against Marijuana Planting, or CAMP. She works for the California Department of Justice's Bureau of Narcotic Enforcement, under the office of the state attorney general, Bill Lockyer. The campaign targets large-scale commercial operations. Counties throughout the state survey their own domain and when they spot a suspicious outcropping, they alert CAMP. Then, CAMP springs into action, usually enlisting about 15 men for each project. Barna, 38, is the only female operative at the moment and she's the only commander, overseeing the entire CAMP operation statewide, from training those under her command to whacking the field herself with a machete. "I don't ask them to do anything I don't do," says the 5-foot-4-inch commando leader, who has been in law enforcement her entire career. That's why, though other commanders might be at the command post, on the ground, some miles away, Barna dons the garb and goes in to do this hot and dirty work as often as necessary. "I actually like getting dirty," she says, with a grin. Statewide there are three teams ,15-23 members to a team. If the area they are assigned to demolish is hard to reach by hiking, CAMP crews are obliged to helicopter in. They are harnessed at the command post, usually two people facing each other. Before taking off they check each other's equipment--harness, buckles, boots, leg straps to make sure nothing is loose. Then they are swung through the air on a 150-foot line for a distance that may be as much as two miles, before being deposited at the spot they'll be working. The helicopter pilots who transport them are so skilled in vertical flying that they can land their charges accurately in a circle about 18 feet in diameter. One man lies on his belly throughout the flight to act as liaison between the dangling passengers and the pilot. He's called the STABO master (Short-Term Airborne Operation), the one who helps avert trouble, who cuts the human cargo off, if necessary. Barna's thoroughness and tenacity is suggested by the fact that she, along with the rope manufacturer, helped design the ropes now used in the procedure. Before the changes she initiated, the ropes had to be knotted, which made the process more cumbersome, dangerous and time-consuming. "Dirt acts like a razor blade on knots," she says, so the use of knots was more hazardous, as well. The rope is as strong as the rigging used on a ship. Other changes Barna has made include keeping the crews mobile, instead of stationing two on permanent assignment in Humboldt and Mendocino counties. (Both areas where CAMP crews are not very popular.) Scything down the crops is strictly summer work--meaning July to October. That's when things move at high gear. The rest of the year Barna spends training and recruiting her teams. She teaches most of the classes herself. Sheriff's departments from the 56 counties that have signed on for the program send her a representative or two each year, plus backup members. Thus, local authorities are part of the team, trained and seasoned to be well-versed in commando tactics by the time illegal crops are spotted in their jurisdiction. Training is rigorous, including survival schools based on tactics used during the Vietnam War, such as STABO. "My work is 100 percent physical," Barna says. Dangerous as the helicopter missions can be, she is proud of the fact that there have been no injuries in the three years that the STABO techniques have been used. Because of the shininess of its leaves, almost iridescent, as Barna describes them, marijuana is fairly easy to spot from the air. Even when disguised by other plants and situated in inaccessible places, it telegraphs itself, partly because it requires sunlight. Marijuana planting has changed drastically in just a few short years, Barna says. Now, instead of small, hippie-type plantations grown for personal recreational use (and spending money), operations uncovered today are huge--run by organized crime. "One garden in Kern County took three teams three days to demolish. It was 59,000 plants, the largest garden we've ever eradicated. And we're getting the people responsible," Barna says. These days a typical garden CAMP uncovers is controlled by Mexican nationals. Planted by drug lords, it's often found in remote areas of national parks or preserves. Mexican nationals are hired to live with the crop during the growing months, to protect it from predators and prying eyes. At harvest time the crop is smuggled back to Mexico for sale and distribution. These are the operations, large and crime-driven, that CAMP targets. The legalization of marijuana for medical use, hasn't had much impact on Barna's job, because those operations are relatively small. But, in dealing with organized crime operations, doesn't she fear for her life? "No," Barna says, "they're after bigger game than me. I was in more personal danger when I worked undercover at the Stonegate Apartments on the east side of San Jose. Small time dealers are more trigger-happy, will turn to violence over a sum as small as $20." When she worked for the San Jose Police Department, "I arrested a major kingpin, a PCP distributor Barna says. San Jose was the Mecca. We seized all the assets. I brought Keith in on it (her husband who was with the FBI), interviewed informants." Those days were decidedly dicey. The large marijuana operations CAMP targets are strictly big business. These growers aren't users themselves. They are in it for the fortune to be made. And what a fortune. The guide the state uses is that each marijuana plant produces a pound of product and the going price is $4,000 a pound. Marijuana is literally more valuable than gold. And science is doing its part to produce an ever more potent output. Plants, whose THC content--the psychoactive ingredient that flows through marijuana--used to be approximately 2 percent per plan, are now sometimes analyzed at the rate of 38 percent per plant. For Barna it's further reason to keep on fighting the fight. To those who say that her teams' accomplishments are only a drop in the bucket, that her efforts are like spitting in the ocean of the state's biggest cash crop, she points to the impressive successes of the last few years. CAMP is getting faster and more proficient at its job. "We've eradicated double what we used to: 200,000 plants in '99; 347,000 plants eradicated in the year 2000. This haul translates to $1.3 billion, in terms of money," Barna says. And every load she can keep from getting in the lungs and lifetime habits of children, she considers a job well done. For her, it's a mission, personal crusade. "If I can help get drugs off the street, then I'm doing my job. I want 110 percent of me in this," she says. She has three children--all boys. Daniel is 20, a student at American River College. He'll take up the family community service banner this year, by working as a firefighter in Santa Cruz. Andrew is 7 and Bronson is 4. Both boys go to Sacred Heart School in Saratoga. Her husband is Keith Barna, owner and CEO of Barna P.I. & Security. He retired four years ago, after being a special agent for the Drug Enforcement Administration. The Barnas live in an historically significant house, dating from 1896: the original section was once a Wells Fargo stagecoach stop. These two security minded folks met when he worked for the FBI and she was with the San Jose Police Department: the two agencies were working together. For months her partner tried to fix her up with Keith: "He thought we'd click, because we're both not typical cops," she says. Yet, they didn't meet until they attended a company Christmas party. "She took my eye right away," Keith says. "She's beautiful and she has a vibrant personality." He began to call her Red Sonya, since she was wearing a red dress at that party. They married after dating for about a year and they've been husband and wife for 10 years. Because of their relationship, the state and federal agencies in drug enforcement began to work more closely together, Sonya says. Since she works out of the Sacramento office, her absences put a considerable strain on a marriage, particularly when young children are involved. Both the Barnas are well aware that there's a 75 percent divorce rate in their line of work. But Keith, having been in a similar business, can empathize. He realizes the importance of her mission, and is proud of her accomplishments and her steady rise through the ranks. She was a grunt in 1984, when she first worked for CAMP, "washing trucks, hacking and stacking," Barna says. "She is extremely dedicated to what she does," Keith says. "Her love for children permeates everything. She does everything possible to keep [marijuana] out of the hands of children. If she weren't doing this work, she'd be counseling children, in some way," he adds. Keith is the Little League coach for Andrew's baseball team. Andrew is a pitcher and currently holds the highest batting average on the team. Younger brother is a whiz at T-ball. Keith's mother is Lillian Barna, a retired superintendent of San Jose Unified School District. Since her work took her to different locales, Keith's father, a nuclear engineer, followed along. That enlightened approach to his wife's career seems to be showing up in the next generation. Sonya Barna had her 15 minutes of fame when a segment on CAMP was aired on 60 Minutes a few months ago. That's where the nickname The Patton of Pot originated. Her drive can be traced to her mother, a college teacher in social welfare, who pulled herself out of the Brawley fields. Widowed when Sonya was 3, she became a single mother of three with a store to manage and an education to pursue. That kind of tenacity can now be found in her daughter, whose academic career includes a bachelor's degree in criminology from California State University, Fresno. "I wanted to be a special agent, but a family friend said I needed street experience first." That's when she landed the job with the San Jose Police Department. Today, she's commanding an operation with a staggering number of agencies--it's a task force in the United States, and includes the Bureau of Land Management, the California National Guard, the California Highway Patrol, the U.S. Forestry Service and the Drug Enforcement Administration, as well as the county agencies that have signed on. Somehow the egos and energies of all these agencies and personalities are addressed and melded by one compact woman into a Vietnam-type commando team. And as the helicopter blades begin to whir, the vehicle to rise, another raid on the largest agricultural cash crop in California begins. - --- MAP posted-by: Doc-Hawk