Pubdate: Tue, 29 Apr 2003 Source: London Free Press (CN ON) Copyright: 2003 The London Free Press a division of Sun Media Corporation. Contact: http://www.fyilondon.com/londonfreepress/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/243 Author: Jason Botchford SMALL-TIME U.S. POT DEALER SEES DREAMS GO UP IN SMOKE Webster Alexander is 19 and his life's dreams are already lost. Alexander's relationship with marijuana has cost him 26 years, a hit by the U.S. drug war designed to stop pot use. The results have been questionable, as the U.S. continues to have one of the highest marijuana consumption rates in the world. The folks who live in Moulton, Ala., in the buckle of the Bible Belt, don't normally get much international interest. They like it that way. But that changed in January when Lawrence County Circuit Judge Philip Reich sentenced Alexander to 26 years in prison after convicting him of selling 28-gram handfuls of marijuana on four occasions to an undercover cop posing as a student. It was Alexander's first offence and he pleaded guilty. His sentence -- a plea bargain -- can't be appealed, but his lawyer is working to show Alexander has changed his life. A judge can give Alexander probation instead of prison time for some, or even all, of the 26 years. "That's a long, long time to go," Alexander said. "I am just so sorry for what I've done. I want the court to see that. I am a completely different man than I was then." Alexander's story first appeared in January, a non-descript story filed by an Associated Press reporter who lives nearby. But when pro-pot activists caught wind of it, Alexander's face soon was plastered on posters in Canada and around the world. Sympathizers cried foul over what could be one of the harshest sentences given to a first-time offender convicted of small-time dealing. A similar conviction in Canada likely would draw a conditional sentence or fine. Even people convicted of running multi-million-dollar grow operations rarely see jail time here. If there is any such thing as a good ol' southern boy -- using the best possible meaning of the phrase -- Alexander is one. He grew up in a trailer with two brothers, two step-brothers and a sister. One brother is in jail, another in the air force. Now he lives with his parents, sister, niece, nephew, a pit bull named Redneck, a dachshund, cages full of chickens, 10 miniature goats and some cockatiels. With a C average, football was his future. Entering high school, he was a top player in the county. The trophies he earned line shelves inside a garage his dad turned into a rec room on their property. Alexander was counting on a college scholarship to pay for an education he hoped would lead to a job as a physical education teacher. But his conviction means he can never earn a scholarship, can never be a teacher and makes him ineligible for a post-secondary loan, according to state law. He can't even vote. Marijuana was part of the culture in which Alexander grew up. His dad has been busted twice and grew plants on the property. Alexander was nine when he smoked his first joint. "A lot of the reason I started smoking was my friends because they all did drugs," he said. "If I never got started on drugs, none of this would have happened." Last February, Alexander needed a few more credits to get his high school diploma. That's when a 19-year-old transfer student enrolled at his school. The second day the new kid was there, he was making plans to buy pot from Alexander, who had no idea he was befriending a 26-year-old narc from the Lawrence County drug task force. On April 9, as the agent set up his fourth buy from Alexander, police swarmed the family's trailer and arrested him at gunpoint. He was charged with four counts of distribution of marijuana, one of first-degree possession and one of possession of drug paraphernalia -- rolling papers, scales and a pipe. "I thought it was going to be how when other people get busted, they go in and soon are released," Alexander said. "But I found out that wasn't going to happen to me. The cell door slammed . . . and I realized how serious it was. I was scared to death I was never going to get out." His uncle was able to put together the $90,000 needed to bail him out. Enter John Mayes, the only lawyer in the county who handles only criminal cases. He is big, conservative and southern. But even for a southern conservative, the marijuana laws seem oddly harsh in Alabama. The state does not differentiate between so-called hard drugs, such as heroin and cocaine, and a soft drug like marijuana. "Alabama does not rehabilitate criminals," Mayes said. "We just punish them." When Mayes worked out Alexander's plea bargain, powerful marijuana lobby groups swung into action. NORML (National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws) posted Alexander's story on the Internet. Webster's mom said representatives promised pay for her son's defence. "The marijuana groups promised us so much. They said they would help and they wanted us to fire John." Said Mayes: "There is no question in my mind if the marijuana groups were involved, Webster would have no chance at probation and he would be going to jail for . . . 26 years. "And they'd probably raise money using his name as he was serving those 26 years. "There were people who were going to say, 'Judge, don't put Webster to prison because the law he was convicted under is stupid and if you weren't so stupid, judge, you would realize these drugs should be legal.' " The Alexanders never saw a nickel from a pro-pot group. They didn't fire Mayes, who is leading an appeal. Mayes is hopeful Alexander can avoid some of the jail time. Alexander got a high school diploma from a private school. He volunteers with young kids, warning them to try and live a good, clean life. "I just hope I can go to college and live a good life," he said. "I am just hoping I can turn this all around." - --- MAP posted-by: Keith Brilhart