Pubdate: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 Source: Ottawa Sun (CN ON) Copyright: 2005 Canoe Limited Partnership Contact: http://www.ottawasun.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/329 Author: Lisa Lisle, Ottawa Sun Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/meth.htm (Methamphetamine) DOWN AND HOOKED... Like Others in Depressed City, Mom Wanted a High OTTUMWA, IOWA -- Judy Murphy did her first line of meth when she was 23. The mother of a three-year-old son at the time, she was already 12 years into her battle with drugs and alcohol. "I tried anything," she says, shaking her head. "If it made me feel good really quick, I wanted it." With a far superior high than anything she ever tried, meth became her drug of choice. Her love affair with meth grew more intense after she started dealing it. "I was a welfare mom and didn't have any education," she says. "And so, all of a sudden, I had some money and I had some power." As tears well up in her eyes, Judy recalls trying to escape her addiction when her son's kindergarten teacher told her that Dustin was depressed. But rehab didn't take. "I remember sitting in the bathroom with a needle in my arm and just crying and begging God to let me die," she says of her struggle to quit. "I didn't think there was any hope." 'Downhill Ride' "It was a long downhill ride," she adds, staring at the cigarette in her hands. "It was like a 10-year nightmare." Judy woke up from that nightmare in a jail cell, where she landed after being chased down an alley behind her house. "It was the most horrible withdrawal I've ever been through in my life," she says. "And I never want to forget it." That was 10 years ago, long before meth started making a name for itself in Canada. But Murphy wasn't an anomaly. By the time she was quitting, this cornbelt town was inundated with the drug. So many lives here have been touched by meth, you can't walk out your door without meeting someone who has been affected by it. From pediatric nurse Cheryll Jones, whose brother died last year as a result of meth-related problems, to Mayor Dale Uehling and his wife, whose foster children have sometimes been taken from meth-abusing parents. It's not surprising in a state that ranks second for meth lab busts and where 62% of the prison population is in jail for crimes related to meth addiction. But what is surprising is that Wapello County, of which this city is the largest urban centre with a population of just 25,000, ranks third in the state for meth lab busts. "It's pretty well related to poverty," Uehling explains. Rundown homes with overgrown yards are scattered throughout the city. Mixed in with heritage buildings downtown are bail bondsmen and taverns with blacked-out windows. Once a bustling coal-mining centre with a booming wholesale industry, the population plummeted from about 30,000 to 24,000 in the '70s when the city's largest employer packed up and left town. About a third of the remaining residents qualified for social assistance. By the time Cargill Excel Meat Solutions took over an abandoned packing plant, alcoholism was rampant and meth had taken hold. By 1990, people were paying about $2,200 for an ounce of meth imported from California and Mexico. Most of it was coming from super labs that made 100 lbs. at a time, says Sgt. Tom McAndrew, head of the local drug task force. Actor Tom Arnold's sister, Lori, along with her husband, Floyd Stockdall, headed the organization importing most of the meth found around town. Police broke up the Stockdall ring in 1993 and Lori Arnold and her husband were sent to prison. Sentenced to 15 years, Arnold was out after six and eventually put back behind bars for more than 11 years after pleading guilty to again distributing methamphetamine. "From 1992-95, it was whoever was smart enough to drive to California and get back with dope," McAndrew says. The first meth lab busted in 1993 belonged to a local who was taught to cook by a guy who came from California. He taught a few people, and from there the number of labs peaked at 80 last year. "But that's just because I only had so many investigators," McAndrew says. "If I had had more investigators, I would have had more labs. But we can only work so many hours a day and we were working ungodly hours every day." Residents' Fears As the number of labs grew, so did residents' fears of living next door to one that could blow at any time. "We kind of have the approach that every house that's on fire has a meth lab in it until proven otherwise," says fire chief Stephen O'Connor. "We have to be diligent that we don't get caught off guard." Having already watched their parents binge on drugs and alcohol for years, local children were starting to experience a new set of side-effects. Jones, a veteran nurse who heads up the Community Task Force for Drug Affected Children in Ottumwa, started to see jittery babies referred to her private pediatric practice. "We were wondering what was happening here," Jones says, recalling when they found the first baby screen positive for meth. "It was like, 'Now what do we do?' " In the early days of the meth epidemic, she would see three or four so-called meth babies every month. Now she sees four or five a day. Like many parents here, as Judy was kicking her habit, her son was picking it up. At 12, when Dustin first tried meth, he had been drinking for three years and using drugs for two. It's what he knew. "I remember saying in school, 'I don't want to be no doctor, I don't want to be no cop, I'm going to deal drugs,' " he says. His downward spiral was much faster than his mom's. He made his first drug deal the same night he did his first line. As his mother and a recovering addict, it broke Judy's heart. "I had never seen anyone use meth recreationally," she says, knowing where he was headed. Judy had to sit back and watch, knowing from her own experience with meth that there was nothing she could do to make her son get clean. Eventually, it was her sobriety that convinced her son to get clean in December 2003. "I knew there was something better because I've seen my mom do it," Dustin says. The one thing that can be said about the community's early exposure to meth is that it has put it ahead of the curve in terms of treatment. While other jurisdictions are just learning how to deal with meth addiction, health officials here are looking for funding to expand their innovative projects. The community also has support groups specifically for meth addicts, like the one that helped Dustin come clean and the one his mother co-founded. With 19 chapters in the state, Moms Off Meth is used as a model for other states. Residents are also trying to solve some of the problems that got them here in the first place. With the area's largest employer, Cargill, paying just over $11 an hour, Uehling is trying to attract higher-paying jobs. While Indian Hills Community College has some top-notch computer programming and robotics programs, most of its graduates head out of state for work. Uehling is hoping to keep them in town by attracting more computer-processing jobs. Next Phase While Uehling is pushing for economic growth, McAndrew is bracing for the next phase in his war against meth. Since the state passed legislation restricting the sale of pseudoephedrine, McAndrew hasn't busted a single lab. In that time, gangs have been moving in, leaving their tags on fences and brick walls throughout the city. So far, McAndrew says there hasn't been a lot of violent crime -- at least not a lot reported. "People say we haven't had the driveby shootings yet but we have, it just hasn't been reported," he says. "If these guys are fighting over dope, they're not going to come crying to us saying, 'The dealer I owe $3,000 to just broke into my house and took everything out or broke my leg or shot up my house.' " As he continues his plea for more officers, McAndrew suspects his drug unit will slowly become a gang unit. And in a city that hasn't had a homicide in the past three years, he says it's just a matter of time before people get caught in the crossfire and an officer gets hurt. "They might be pulling over that car that has $700,000 cash in it and two guys with machine-guns that aren't going to let you take it and with another car following it, making sure it gets to its destination," McAndrew says. "That deputy's going to pull somebody over and be talking to this car and the other car's going to pull up and it could get bad really quick." [sidebar] OTTUMWA - - Location: 150 km southeast of Des Moines, Iowa - - Population: 24,988 - - Visible minority population: 3,250 - - Average income: $31,000 - - Education of 25+ population: 79.9% high school or more, 15.4% bachelor's degree or higher - - Top employers: Cargill Excell Meat Solutions (2,100) and John Deere Ottumwa Works (950) - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake