Meth, Shattered Lives, Part 1A

DRUG USE REACHING EXTREMES

In rural Oklahoma, two brothers grab the keys, race to the car and head for
town.

Johnny and Taylor are not on a teen-age joy ride. They are on their way to
the police station to get help for their mother, a drug addict who has
spent another paycheck on methamphetamine.

In a motel room on the south side of Oklahoma City, a woman places six
bindles of meth and a syringe on the end table and puts her infant son in a
crib next to her.

Before the night is over, Penny will be arrested and her child will be
turned over to strangers. He will be 11 years old when she completes her
prison sentence.

The desperate cries for help are starting to add up in Oklahoma.

Already, the physical and emotional toll of meth is ruining thousands of
lives in Oklahoma, and the economic toll is running in the millions of
dollars as a result of the affordability and availability of one of the
most addictive drugs on the illegal market.

Gov. Frank Keating said he is so concerned about the rise of meth that he's
declared it public health enemy No. 1.

"We need a more aggressive public education campaign, a more aggressive
treatment and rehabilitation campaign, and we need to shame it," Keating said.

Whether it's injected, ingested or smoked, meth is a powerful stimulant
that dramatically affects the central nervous system and can alter the
shape of the brain.

While soaring to the top of the drug charts, meth has amassed some
frightening numbers: In 2000, 946 clandestine methamphetamine labs were
seized in Oklahoma, compared with only 20 five years ago. The state is on a
record pace again this year, having seized 475 labs through June at average
of $2,500 per meth lab.

In Oklahoma City, which recently became No. 1 in the nation in per capita
meth lab busts, the police special operations team scarcely has time to
track down major cocaine dealers because it's too busy processing meth lab
crime scenes.

Across the state, reports of child abuse and neglect are increasing, and
"toxic babies" are the latest victims of the meth war. In the last year in
Tulsa, 52 newborns tested positive for meth.

"Based on the dangers posed by meth labs, it's a terrible problem for the
department and for the community and the state," Maj. Johnny L. Kuhlman of
the Oklahoma City Police Department said. "I'd call it an epidemic, a
plague. Those synonyms and more all fit."

Once labeled the "poor man's cocaine," meth - also known as crank, crystal
meth and speed -- is starting to defy the economic and geographical
boundary lines previously associated with it, presenting law enforcement
authorities with a new set of big-city problems.

"We've only seen the tip of the iceberg, because we're only taking down
about 10 percent of the labs and law enforcement is working around the
clock," said JoAnn Bronstad, the state drug court coordinator. "This thing
has hit the state so fast and so hard, we're scrambling to stay right
behind it."

Authorities attribute a large part of the meth spree to some creative
chemistry. Once manufactured only under laboratory-like conditions in
remote locations, meth cooks have simplified the procedure and brought
their homemade labs to a neighborhood or an intersection near you.

Often their recipes go awry, as evidenced by the increasing number of
explosions and fires and toxic chemical releases.

The Oklahoma City Fire Department has responded to more than a dozen fires
this year that it believes were meth-related. Last month in Sand Springs, a
chemical used to make meth leaked inside a van, sending 15 people,
including police, firefighters and paramedics, to the hospital for treatment.

Because of meth, there's no such thing anymore as a routine police stop -
or even a routine school bus stop.

Meth addicts often are easily agitated, paranoid and prone to violence. One
state trooper has been killed in a meth-related incident, and meth is
contributing to an increase in spousal and child abuse and neglect
incidents, statistics show.

Only last week, state narcotics agents, who were in the process of raiding
a home near Sparks where they suspected meth was being manufactured, shot
and killed a man who authorities say pointed a shotgun at agents.

In May, Oklahoma City police investigators, in protective clothing and
masks, were removing potentially explosive chemicals from a house when a
school bus rolled up next to the curb and unloaded unsuspecting students.

When they're not "cooking" in the kitchen at home, meth makers are renting
motel rooms, where they can make a small quantity of meth in less than
three hours, leaving behind an invisible toxic residue coating on the
carpet, walls and furniture that could be inhaled by the room's next occupants.

In Oklahoma City, police even arrested two people who were cooking in the
back seat of their van as it sped down the highway.

To arm against meth labs, the federal government and state have spent more
than $4 million in the past two years on lab cleanup and equipment, and
passed a series of meth laws.

The effort has resulted in the conviction of more than 100 meth
manufacturers in the past year and has doubled the number of labs that have
been seized in the past two years.

But authorities admit those numbers don't tell the whole story.

"This isn't a case where a meth user can say, 'Whatever I did to my own
body ought to be all right,'" said John Duncan, chief agent of the Oklahoma
Narcotics Bureau. "The dimensions of this drug go deep into our society."

"Oklahoma also has not done enough to educate children about the dangers of
meth," said Thomas A. Hedrick Jr., vice chairman of the Partnership for a
Drug-Free America.

"As long as we have the demand, just like a business, if you put out a
product people will buy, it will be successful," he said.

New research shows that meth use will cause the brain to change its
physical composition, which will produce paranoid schizophrenics and people
with serious emotional disorders.

"These people will cause lots of domestic violence and child abuse, and
they will show up at treatment centers more often and be a burden on the
health care system," Duncan said. "And they will be more apt to be involved
in road rage, run from the police or shoot their neighbor."

Law enforcement officers' jobs remain complicated by the permanent hold
meth seems to have over users, by its relatively inexpensive $25-a-high
price tag and by the way it's made and distributed.

In Oklahoma, drug cartels need not apply for a piece of the action because
the traditional drug hierarchy has been turned upside-down by meth.

"We're seeing the social distance between the producer and the consumer
collapse," Duncan said. "Now it's a lot easier if you can make your own out
of some household chemicals and take a little more risk."

Twenty-year minimum sentences for possession of precursors and aggressive
police work have only made meth manufacturers more creative.

There are two popular recipes in Oklahoma - the "red phosphorus" or
pseudoephedrin eduction method and the "Nazi" or anhydrous ammonia method.
Among the essential ingredients are such over-the-counter items as
decongestants, food supplements, batteries, alcohol and coffee filters.

With more stores restricting the sale of large amounts of cold and sinus
medicine, meth cooks have started recruiting "runners," who go from store
to store until they amass enough tablets necessary to make a few ounces of
methamphetamine.

When the law gets too close, meth cooks juggle their recipes to cut down on
the cooking time and recruit "tasters" - addicts too strung out to care
what they shoot into their veins - to determine whether the new batch
triggers a potentially fatal reaction, authorities say.

"One of the biggest problems law enforcement has is that you can't go out
and tell the public they can't buy cold medicine anymore; too many people
use it," Duncan said. "And you can't say, 'Farmers, you can't use ammonia.'
It's the most common fertilizer. And you can't stop putting lithium strips
in batteries."

State officials also are scrambling to put guidelines in place pertaining
to how a contaminated house or motel room should be made environmentally
safe. The guidelines are needed to prevent the next occupant from being
exposed to hazardous chemicals.

To health and child advocates, meth also spells misery to both the addict
and the innocent.

"We have no idea how serious the meth epidemic will be," said Barbara
Findeiss with the Child Abuse Network in Tulsa. "We have statistics on meth
labs, but no one really knows all the possible long-term side effects."

It has been documented that meth babies are sensitive to touch, are
lethargic and have a weak suck. At four weeks, they often develop the
shakes. And at 18 months, problems with attention and anger appear,
Findeiss said.

It's what happens next that really concerns the medical community.

"The piece we're missing is the long-term follow-up for children," said Dr.
Penny Grant, a pediatrician. "In many cases, the baby is right there on the
ground in a meth lab. It's a child that breathes faster than you or I, so
they get more of it in their system. We don't know what it will do to them
10 or 20 years from now."

Grant moved to Tulsa from Miami, Fla., where she saw thought she had seen
enough crack babies to have seen it all.

"But the more I found out about meth, the more concerned and frightened I
get," she said. "It looks like the toxicity of the drug may be worse than
any other drug I imagined."

Older children whose parents are on meth don't seem to catch a break,
either, because of the responsibility they learn to shoulder.

For example, Kyle McGraw, executive director of A Chance to Change, doesn't
know how Johnny and Taylor's ride ended, but he said he's heard dozens of
similar stories.

"The child is often the real hero in many families that are affected by
drugs," McGraw said.

"tasters" - addicts too strung out to care what they shoot into their veins
- - to determine if the new batch triggers a potentially fatal reaction,
authorities say.

"One of the biggest problems law enforcement has is that you can't go out
and tell the public they can't buy cold medicine anymore; too many people
use it," Duncan said. "And you can't say, 'farmers, you can't use ammonia.'
It's the most common fertilizer. And you can't stop putting lithium strips
in batteries."

State officials also are scrambling to put guidelines in place pertaining
to how a contaminated house or motel room should be made environmentally
safe. The guidelines are needed to prevent the next occupant from being
exposed to hazardous chemicals.

To health and child advocates, meth also spells misery to both the addict
and the innocent. "We have no idea how serious the meth epidemic will be,"
said Barbara Findeiss with the Child Abuse Network in Tulsa. "We have
statistics on meth labs, but no one really knows all the possible long-term
side effects."

It has been documented that meth babies report being sensitive to the
touch, are lethargic and have a weak suck. At four weeks, they often
develop the shakes. And at 18 months, problems with attention and anger
outburst starting manifesting themselves, Findeiss said.

It's what happens next that really concerns the medical community.

"The piece we're missing is the long-term follow-up for children," Dr.
Penny Grant, a pediatrician, said. "In many cases, the baby is right there
on the ground in a meth lab. It's a child that breathes faster than you or
I, so they get more of it in their system. We don't know what it will do to
them 10 or 20 years from now."

Grant moved to Tulsa from Miami, Fla., where she saw thought she had seen
enough crack babies to have seen it all.

"But the more I found out about meth, the more concerned and frightened I
get," she said. "It looks like the toxicity of the drug may be worse than
any other drug I imagined."