Pubdate: Mon, 1 Mar 2004
Source: Duluth News-Tribune (MN)
Copyright: 2004 Duluth News-Tribune
Contact:  http://www.duluthsuperior.com/mld/duluthtribune/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/553
Author: Chris Hamilton, News Tribune Staff Writer
Series: link http://www.mapinc.org/source/Duluth
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/meth.htm (Methamphetamine)

HE 'RUINED LIVES' BUT SALVAGED HIS

It's Been a Long, Grueling Road for Duluth's Terry "Brian" Parsons,
Who Finally Beat Meth

In 31 years of addiction, Terry "Brian" Parsons estimates he has
introduced methamphetamine to at least 250 people in the Twin Ports.

"That's actually sticking a needle in their arms or giving them a line
to snort," said the 44-year-old Duluth man. "Once they took it, they
were mine.

"I messed up a lot of people, ruined a lot of lives," Parsons
said.

He figures he had dealt and done more than 100 pounds of meth before
getting clean 15 months ago in the St. Louis County District Drug
Court program.

His newfound sobriety -- he hasn't been clean this long since he was a
teenager -- inspired him to speak out against the insidiousness of the
drug he probably helped pioneer in the Twin Ports, he said.

Through a mouth depleted of teeth by meth, Parsons' gummed words are
delivered loud, fast and a little unclear. But their meaning remains
coherent.

He knows he has a lot of bad karma to atone for, but the lessons he's
willing to share are more important now than ever for the community,
he said.

Long a much greater problem on the West Coast and among outlaw biker
gangs in the Midwest, meth started to spread in popularity in northern
Minnesota and western Wisconsin in the late 1990s. However, it has
exploded in the past few years, say about two dozen local addicts,
drug counselors and criminal justice officials interviewed by the News
Tribune.

"Now it's just way too much," Parsons said. "And it's going to get
nuts. We are going to have an epidemic."

Bury the Past

Parsons got hooked on meth when he was just 12 years old and living in
his native Los Angeles.

He had a playmate whose parents regularly used meth in front of the
boys. One day, they offered him some. He had watched them fix the rig,
or needle, so many times, he was able to do it by himself.

"My whole life changed as of that moment," said Parsons, who added
that, along the way, he has tried everything from heroin to cocaine at
least once. "Meth, though, was the first and last drug I ever used."

Parsons said it was meth's powerful euphoria and prolonged highs -- up
to 22 hours -- that allowed him to escape his depression and troubles.
And he had plenty.

At 7, he said, he was sexually assaulted by a friend's uncle. Several
years later, his mother deserted the family, he said.

"Meth made everything go away that was hurting me," he said. "At the
time, it was cool, and I was able to keep everything buried for a long
time."

Parson's older sister, Dalene Kittelson, 49, of Superior, described
their childhood as mixed-up and confused. After their mother left, the
children were put in a foster home. When their father took custody, he
was on the road a lot as a saw salesman.

Parsons was always a wild kid, she said, but he hid his drug use. As
the years passed, though, it became obvious.

By the age of 16, he was a junkie, he said, getting money for the drug
by dealing and stealing, often from his dad's wallet. Sometimes he'd
break into cabins.

He moved to Duluth at 17, with his father, sister and younger brother,
and attended Washington Junior High, but dropped out in ninth grade.

Meth was hard to find in the Twin Ports then. But while living in
Duluth and Lake Nebagamon, Parsons was dealing marijuana and drinking
a lot, another addiction he didn't kick until recently, he said.

But he craved meth most and started bringing the highly toxic
substance into the area through old friends in Los Angeles via United
Parcel Service and U.S. mail. His new friends financed his habit.

"I got people hooked on pot and, sooner or later, I got them hooked on
methamphetamine," he said.

Just Deal

A major reason for meth's rapid increase is the ability to make it in
someone's home with materials found in just about any pharmacy and
hardware store.

Parsons says he never made meth but knows plenty of people who have.
The vapors from the cooking are too much for him, he said. A lit match
can cause an entire home to explode.

"I've been in houses where they produce a lot," he said. "The
chemicals in the air alone are 10 times harder on the body than the
meth."

Besides, if you get caught making meth, that's automatically 10 years
in prison with a felony record, Parsons said.

It takes just a matter of hours to make meth, and some do it in such
small batches, a couple grams at a time, that they always seem to
avoid detection, he said.

Drug-dealing was Parsons' thing. But it wasn't to make money, it was
to get high, he said. He used up to $1,000 worth of meth a day. He
didn't drive fancy cars or wear expensive suits. He couldn't afford
them.

Ugly Binges

For most of Parsons' life he worked as a cook, as he does now at the
Duluth Chi Chi's Mexican Restaurante. Sometimes he took jobs in
construction. Once he lived off federal Supplemental Security Income
after severely breaking his leg while helping his sister move.

With infrequent fixes, he could work double and triple shifts. Make
more money, buy more meth. But he would lose jobs to his binges, which
lasted up to 20 days with little food and no sleep.

A meth binge isn't usually a social experience, Parsons said. Paranoia
and psychosis are the only constant companions -- so much so that on
his worst days, Parsons said, he would just hide himself in his closet
and shoot up. He didn't do anything -- no TV, no books, no friends. He
just sat there, high. He wouldn't go outside unless it was to get more
meth.

"Methamphetamine gives you the false impression that everything in
your life is OK," Parsons said. "You could be living in a house one
day and a cardboard box the next and, as long as you have meth,
everything is fine."

Parsons lived in one-room apartments or with any family member or
friends who would take him. But he was a terror to the ones he loved,
he said.

Kittelson described him as self-centered, mean, mouthy and
short-tempered. No one could communicate with him. When Parsons lived
with his sister, if he couldn't get a fix, he would sleep all day.
Parsons destroyed his sister's credit, so much so that the married
mother of four lost her Duluth home because of him, they said.

He stole checks and credit cards from them -- any way to front the
next fix, he said. In 1987, he was caught forging stolen payroll
checks, was convicted of felony theft and got some jail time and probation.

Parsons would leave town to try to get cleaned up, which never worked,
he said.

Kittelson always welcomed him back.

"Family is family, you know," she said. "So I kept hoping that he
would get his act together. I knew that deep down inside, he didn't
want to hurt the family."

Parsons moved to Arizona for four years, where meth cost seven times
less but took its toll. When he got there, the 5-foot-7 Parsons
weighed 250 pounds. "I was fat," he said. When he came home in 2001,
he was down to 129 pounds.

Not in a good way. While the drug greatly suppresses appetite, he
believes it also gave him liver disease, which, in turn, led to
diabetes. Meth also drains calcium from the body, and it started to
rot his teeth and claim his hair. There are also parts of his memory
he is sure he will never recover.

"I thought, if I'm going to die, I want to die in Minnesota," he
said.

But he wasn't ready to quit meth. When Parsons moved back, he noticed
the market had grown. So he had meth shipped from Arizona. The
children of the addicts he knew were now dealing themselves, he said.

"It was totally different from the old days," Parsons said. "There
used to be just a few people in it. There are so many young kids that
have it now."

Another Shot

Parsons said he should be dead by now. But his saving grace would come
in the alley behind Curly's Bar in the Lincoln Park/West End
neighborhood. He was caught there speeding (no pun intended, he said)
in July 2002 by a Duluth police officer.

Parsons was high and had fresh track marks all over his arms. He had a
spoon with meth residue in his pocket, a needle under the front seat
and a quarter gram of meth -- which would sell for up to $50 in
Duluth, depending on the quality -- in a cigarette pack.

"I knew it was time to give up," he said. "I said, 'I'm done running,
I'm tired of playing this game.' "

He was charged with fifth-degree possession. Even with his prior
felony, if he pleaded guilty, the guideline sentence called for only a
15-month, stayed sentence and probation. No prison.

"That's not what needed to happen to me, though," he said. "I needed
something major."

When Parsons first came into drug court in July 2002, "he looked real
haggard," said Cheryl Harder, his St. Louis County probation officer.

She said Parsons told everyone he wanted to be in the then-fledgling
St. Louis County District Drug Court. Then he went on the lam for
three months. When he eventually turned himself in, Harder said,
Parsons again was close to death.

"Success is about timing, it's about desire, it's about motivation and
it all came together for Brian," she said.

Parsons had a rare quality working in his favor -- a strong desire to
quit drinking and drugs altogether. Luckily for him, the timing of his
arrest allowed him to become one of the first people to enroll in the
program.

In exchange for admission of guilt and successful completion of
strenuous supervision, drug testing and treatment for a year, the
conviction would be wiped from his record.

The first physical withdrawals really weren't so bad, he said. He had
felt so terrible on meth, anything was an improvement.

In a 90-day chemical-dependency treatment program at St. Paul's Twin
Town Treatment Center, Parsons focused on getting back the health he
had before drugs and also learned the classic technique of living in
the moment, releasing personal pain and stress and managing the
struggle for sobriety one day at a time.

It was in group therapy one day that another man's admission of being
raped as a child finally gave Parsons the courage to talk about his
molestation and mother's desertion. Then he started speaking with a
therapist himself.

"That's when it really started coming together for me," he said. "If I
wouldn't have let that go, I can honestly say I would be out there
using right now. I can control my life now."

Parsons spent an additional 90 days in Port Rehabilitation Center in
Duluth and time in a halfway house before he graduated from drug court
in November. He still regularly attends Narcotics Anonymous meetings,
something he'll probably need to do for the rest of his life.

"I know my drug is sitting behind me doing push-ups, waiting for me to
relapse," he said.

Parsons credits 6th Judicial District Judge Carol Person and Harder
with much of his success. It was their patience and sympathy that
completely changed his opinion of the criminal justice system.

Addicts need to know that somebody cares, Kittelson
said.

Now, Parsons spends his days working, reading self-help books and
studying the natural beauty around him.

"I am so proud of him now," Kittelson said. "He looks like a human
being. He acts like a human being. He's changed 999 percent."

Parsons still goes to court when he doesn't have to. He mentors some
of the program's 70 other participants and started a support group for
recovering meth addicts.

He also wants to tell schoolchildren about his struggles and hopes to
organize a sober house, a place for recovering addicts out of the
justice system to get their new lives together for a few extra months.

"I messed up a lot of people in this town, and I wish I could take it
back, but I can't," Parsons said. "Now all I can do is help people." 
- ---
MAP posted-by: Richard Lake