Pubdate: Sun, 07 Aug 2005
Source: Beacon Journal, The (OH)
Copyright: 2005 The Beacon Journal Publishing Co.
Contact:  http://www.ohio.com/mld/beaconjournal/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/6

USER, MAKER, SELLER: A METH ADDICT'S LIFE

'Meth Has Ruined A Lot Of Me,' Summit Man Says In Recounting His Descent

The night of Nov. 21, 2001, seemed like business as usual at Nick Kline's 
home. He had set up the methamphetamine lab in his garage, cooked the usual 
amount, then tore it all down before he locked the door.

With his work done for the night, Kline was standing outside his home when, 
shortly after midnight, he saw the cars racing toward him with flashing 
lights -- Summit County sheriff's deputies' cars.

"They stopped 50 feet behind me," Kline said. And (someone) yelled, " 
'Freeze!' "

Today, at the age of 27, Kline recalls: "I was kind of relieved it was over."

But in truth, it really wasn't.

Kline's story is one from inside the burgeoning meth craze, which Ohio law 
enforcement officials have warned is a major developing problem.

The illicit do-it-yourself drug called crystal meth -- long prevalent in 
large cities -- has spread to the Midwest with a vengeance. It is alluring, 
packing a punch unlike any other drug, according to experts and users 
alike. And, it's easy to make.

But it is highly addictive and often leaves devastating side effects that 
experts have just begun to study.

In the past two years, labs have proliferated in Northeast Ohio, 
particularly in Summit County, which now claims the highest concentration 
of such operations in the state.

Kline used meth, made it, sold it. For doing so, he went through drug 
treatment and served prison time. And after getting clean in rehab, he 
started using the drug again -- the typical course for a crystal meth addict.

But this summer, once again in a residential treatment program, Kline said 
he = [100.0]would quit.

"Meth has ruined a lot of me... It's taken away a lot of me," he said. "I 
will never let it take any more from me."

Many times, people look to their past to explain their troubled present. 
But Kline -- one of four brothers raised in the suburbs -- recalls no 
dramatic events that set him up for such a fall.

Yes, his parents divorced when he was a schoolboy, but he said his dad took 
custody of the boys and did his best by them. And they saw their mother 
regularly.

Like his brothers, Kline attended Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic School 
in Cuyahoga Falls and went to church on Sundays. He said he earned B's and 
C's, played baseball and peewee football, and loved to do odd jobs such as 
clean the grounds at the local miniature golf course. Like a lot of 
youngsters, he experimented with cigarettes.

After eight years of parochial school, he enrolled in Cuyahoga Falls High 
School, where he knew nobody, so he hung around with his older brother, a 
senior, and his brother's friends.

Descent into addiction

It was on a summer evening between his freshman and sophomore years that 
Kline smoked marijuana for the first time, at a park down the road from his 
home.

Then came other drugs.

Today, sitting in a conference room of the center where he is again 
undergoing rehabilitation, Kline recalled: "My sophomore year was a blur."

Kline, who joined the high school's distributive education program, said he 
would leave school before lunch, go to his afternoon job, then use drugs at 
night.

Sampling everything, he found he liked stimulants best. "I've always been 
more of an upper than a downer," he said.

Drugs at night, school during the day. Then, after high school, Kline, who 
liked working with his hands, joined the plumber's apprenticeship program, 
making his way up from residential apprentice to commercial work.

"Better pension, better annuity, hospitalization, better dollar amount per 
hour," he explained.

Kline was on his way, it seemed:

"I was 21 years old with a $102,000 house in Tallmadge, with a six-car 
garage in back. I had a girlfriend."

And he had meth.

"People don't understand why I didn't just quit, why I took it to the level 
I did," he said.

Meth's differences

Crystal methylamphetamine -- also known as crystal, white man's crack, ice 
and crank -- isn't the typical feel-good drug, experts say.

For example, the high it provides is much longer -- up to 12 hours, 
compared with cocaine's 15 minutes. Users can feel omnipotent, bathed in an 
"anything is possible" kind of confidence.

Nobody sleeps on meth. Energy skyrockets. Many get paranoid. Most get hooked.

In his early days, Kline said, he did a line of meth two to four times a month.

"One day I went over to buy," he said. "The guy who produced the meth was 
giving it to his roommate to sell, and I knew the both of them. I went one 
day when the roommate wasn't there. The baker (who created the meth) was 
there."

The men had known each other since high school. "We were talking about how 
things were going with each other, what was going on. He just kind of threw 
me some meth out of friendship. He asked me where I was living. I explained 
to him I had a house, a six-car garage... "

So, Kline started to buy drugs from the meth cooker directly.

Recruited

Soon afterward, when the cooker asked him if he wanted to "make some fast 
money," Kline said, he readily agreed.

"I had credit cards, I had balances on them -- nothing outrageous... He 
just asked if I wanted to make some money.

"I pretty much knew what he was talking about," Kline said.

The cooker offered a deal: He'd pay Kline for use of his garage. If Kline 
agreed to that, he was to leave his garage door open that night.

"I went home and thought about it for five or 10 minutes and said (to 
myself), a couple of thousand dollars would be really nice," Kline said.

He started watching the meth production, and gradually, he said, he got 
involved doing the "prep" work, and eventually he learned the mechanics 
involved. Some of the ingredients -- agricultural products -- were 
available in another state; others were common home and garden items easily 
bought at the nearest superstore.

The drug pseudoephedrine, a core ingredient, was easily acquired via 
generic cough and cold medicine that at the time was sold on open shelves 
at area pharmacies.

So, Kline took over the production.

High life

The money was fast and easy. Kline said he stopped cashing the paychecks 
from his day job for weeks on end and treated friends to big dinners at Red 
Lobster, dropping hundreds of dollars at a time.

Kline, who loved gadgets, regularly went to the Sears store to cruise the 
hardware aisles. "It was Christmas every time," he said.

Plumber by day, meth lab operator, user and seller by night. Energy wasn't 
a problem. Kline could stay up for days.

"I worked steady through winter and layoff seasons," he said. "It's not 
like meth made me forget to glue a fitting on or tighten down a band."

All three evils

By 2001, he said, his recreational use had turned into a necessity. "The 
progression of my illness was getting worse and worse," he said. "I had to 
have it."

As a manufacturer, seller and user, Kline said, he had all three evils. 
"You got the fast money, the process of making it and distributing it to 
people -- which I now understand ruins lives."

Kline didn't worry much about who got the drug when he sold to adults. If 
he knew that someone had trouble making ends meet but wanted to buy meth -- 
so be it.

As for selling to children, Kline said he didn't do it -- at least not 
directly.

"The people who bought off of me, the bulk of it... " he paused. "I never 
asked."

"They paid me what I wanted, they were the ones who nickled and dimed it -- 
however they got rid of it -- I didn't ask."

Relapse

After he was arrested on that November night in 2001, Kline went to drug 
treatment, then spent 13 months in prison, followed by three months in boot 
camp, then a month in a halfway house.

He returned to Akron and his plumbing work and stayed clean for about nine 
months, until he was laid off during a seasonal falloff in plumbing work.

"I used again, lying to my wife, lying to my family, lying to my stepson, 
lying to everybody," he said.

To make money to buy drugs, Kline said, he offered his meth recipe to an 
acquaintance, offering himself as sort of a consultant. "I was giving tips, 
using, testing, telling them what to do differently," he said.

"Then it was sell, sell, sell, use, sell, use, use, use, use, sell."

On April 29 of this year, he was arrested again -- for possession of 
illegal drugs.

Looking ahead

Back in treatment again, Kline looks to the future with regrets, hope and 
the desire to finally gain a foothold in the world -- clean.

"There are many things I have to live with," Kline said.

"I can't take away the past. I can't take away the fact that people's lives 
were ruined.

"I can't take away my prison record," he said. "All I can do through my God 
is accept it. Unless I accept it and forgive myself," he said, "I don't 
think I could recover.

"It's too hard," Kline said.

"It's way too hard."
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MAP posted-by: Beth