Pubdate: Thu, 27 Dec 2001 Source: Orange County Register (CA) Copyright: 2001 The Orange County Register Contact: http://www.ocregister.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/321 Author: Dion Nissenbaum, San Jose Mercury News Cited: Civil Liberties Monitoring Project http://www.civilliberties.org/ Discuss: this item on the Drug Policy Forum of California's action oriented email list. Sign up at www.drugsense.org/dpfca Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?115 (Cannabis - California) STATE'S 'PATTON OF POT' FACES BALANCING ACT IN DRUG WAR Sonya Barna Aims To Eradicate Marijuana Grown For Profit, Yet Be Sympathetic To Its Medical Users. SACRAMENTO -- She has been dubbed the "Patton of pot," California's street-smart commander of the state's war on marijuana. Sonya Barna works on the front line in the long-running battle, hovering in helicopters, hiking through forests and hunkering down in a sparse Sacramento office. Barna heads California's Campaign Against Marijuana Planting, the state's 18-year effort to shut down the multibillion-dollar industry. With the pot season over, the state announced last week a near-record year: CAMP pulled up nearly 314,000 plants worth about $1.25 billion. Despite that success, Barna is steering her $655,000-a-year program through treacherous political terrain. Its budget has been cut dramatically since its early days, forcing CAMP to scale back the number of anti-drug SWAT teams it can field from seven to three. And California voters put the operation in an awkward position when they approved Proposition 215, forcing Barna to balance her mission to eradicate marijuana production with the people's desire to allow medical patients to use pot to ease their ailments. While other drugs, such as crack cocaine and heroin, are largely stigmatized in the media and in society, marijuana remains hip and cool to many. As Barna sees it, a crucial part of her job is to change that, to help redefine marijuana as a potent drug that can damage your memory, sap your ambition and push you down a slide into aimless obscurity. Barna, a mother of three, is intimately familiar with the personal challenges facing children and parents. During one of her regular searches of her oldest son's room four years ago, Barna discovered a pot pipe in the 17-year-old's room. She sat him down for a serious talk and has since put drug use behind him, Barna said. But Barna, a former San Jose police officer, is sympathetic to the goals of Prop. 215, the 1996 initiative that gave Californians the right to use pot to combat ills from AIDS and cancer to arthritis and migraines. "If someone is dying of cancer and a marijuana cigarette helps them, one plant that they might have or that their caregiver might have is one thing," Barna said. "Really, who is that hurting?" Attorney General Bill Lockyer, Barna's boss, has been working to honor the intent of Prop. 215 and still crack down on people who grow pot for profit. The task of deciding what's what falls to Barna. To Barna, Prop. 215 did more than create a way for people with AIDS and cancer to use pot to ease their pain; it opened the door for drug cartels to expand their operations. Barna has directed her teams to focus on the big scores, not small growers tending a few plants. That she leaves for local law enforcement. Dennis Peron, who helped put the initiative on the ballot and has a farm in Clear Lake where he has grown pot for patients, supports targeting growers "in it for greed and money." But he sees Barna as a lonely soldier making a last stand. "The war is over," Peron said. "Marijuana will be legalized in my lifetime." Barna's principal role is to assemble the anti-pot teams and lead raids. CAMP has a skeleton crew and draws officers from across the state for raids. Since 1983, the teams have destroyed about $9 billion worth of plants. The raids, which often involve helicopters sweeping low in search of the emerald-green plants, have their critics in marijuana-friendly parts of California. Many view Barna and the program a lot like the owners of speakeasies viewed Elliot Ness and his anti-alcohol teams during Prohibition. "They're terrorizing citizens," said Marie Mills, a lead organizer of the Civil Liberties Monitoring Project, a group in pot-rich Humboldt County that keeps tabs on CAMP. "I don't see it as a valuable service, and what they do get is not even touching the tip of the iceberg." Pot plots take a toll on the state's forests. Growers use more than fertilizer to raise their crops. They use potent chemicals that pollute nearby streams and rivers. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake