ORLANDO GLITTER HIDES DARK SIDE OF YOUNG DRUG USERS

ORLANDO, Fla. -- Arnitra Johnson can imagine the rush of riding one of the
roller coasters at Disney World. She has never been to any of the theme
parks here, but she thinks the thrill must be the same as the high she used
to get from marijuana and Ecstasy.

"Ecstasy, that's the talk of the town," said Ms. Johnson, an 18-year- old
who lived until recently in the local Covenant House, a shelter for
homeless youths. "It makes you feel good, see different colors."

That is the Orlando Ms. Johnson knows, one in which the bright colors come
not from the lights and the fireworks at the tourist attractions but from
life in a drug haze, on the streets. It is the Orlando that millions of
tourists drive obliviously through every year on their way to fun and fantasy.

Ms. Johnson represents the most extreme example of how the image and the
reality of this playground city can be worlds apart. While Orlando is no
doubt a great place for young people to visit, it is not a great place for
many of them who come here on their own to live, say experts on the city's
social problems.

Rich from tourism dollars, Orlando is virtually synonymous with family fun.
In many ways it is an ideal city, with well-maintained municipal services
and facilities, decent schools and an economy that is diversifying into
high-technology industries. But the city also has a high rate of teenage
heroin use, and government officials and drug counselors say the area has
also been struggling with the rising popularity of club drugs like Ecstasy,
taken in pill form, and GHB, a liquid sedative.

Orange County, which encompasses Orlando, has among the highest rate of
teenage pregnancy and uninsured youngsters in Florida. Nearly 40 of every
1,000 girls 15 through 17 in the county become pregnant compared with 35
statewide and 32 nationwide, according to Florida Kids Count, a project of
the University of South Florida in Tampa. And 28 percent of the children
under 18 have no health insurance, compared with a state average of 22.3
percent and a national average of 15.6 percent, the Orange County
Department of Health says.

The percentage of children living in poverty in the county, 22.3 percent,
is in line with the state average of 22 percent and the national average of
21 percent. But experts on social issues say the perception is that
everyone here has money to spend on cotton candy and stuffed animals.

"You go to Disney World and everything is orderly and clean and perfect,"
said Dr. Irwin Redlener, president of the Children's Health Fund in New
York, which provides health care to poor children nationwide and operates
mobile medical clinics that offer free treatment in inner-city
neighborhoods and at centers like Covenant House. "But if you go to the
center of Orlando it is the absolute opposite." Referring to Orlando's
neediest youngsters, Dr. Redlener said, "Mickey Mouse is not going to help
them."

Ms. Johnson, who recently received her first physical examination in years
at the mobile clinic and now lives on her own, knows that to be true. "I've
heard about Disney and Epcot and stuff like that," Ms. Johnson said. "But
I've never been to those places."

Orlando's most vexing problem, by far, is its high rate of drug use,
particularly among young people. Since the mid-1990's, Orlando has ranked
as high as third among the nation's cities in heroin-related deaths of
teenagers per capita, the Florida Office of Drug Control says.

State officials say drug traffickers are increasingly using Orlando, like
Miami, as an entry port to smuggle narcotics from Puerto Rico, Colombia and
the Dominican Republic. As the supply has increased, so has the
distribution at rave clubs and house parties that cater to a young crowd.

"We have lost a lot of young people who have had exposure to the increasing
amount of heroin in Central Florida," said Representative John L. Mica, a
Republican who represents Orlando.

"We're trying to get a handle on it," said Mr. Mica, who has held several
House subcommittee hearings in the city to investigate the problem. Three
years ago, Congress said Orlando was the headquarters of a "high-intensity
drug-trafficking area" and allocated money for local authorities to combat
the problem.

But on the street, little seems to have changed in the availability of
narcotics, said several teenage addicts interviewed recently at Another
Chance, a counseling center in a suburb here.

"It's pretty easy to get," said Matt P., 15, a patient at Another Chance
who was trying to recover from addictions to marijuana, Ecstasy, acid and
alcohol.

To be sure, most youngsters here are not addicted to drugs and are living
with their own families. And other cities of similar size struggle with the
same problems as Orlando. But the problems here seem somehow magnified by
the stark contrast with the city's pristine image.

"Orlando has a bright, shiny veneer," Representative Mica said.
"Unfortunately, we've also been a victim of tragedy."

Orlando can also attract young people because of the promise, often broken,
of abundant service jobs and round-the-clock entertainment, said Paula
Tibbetts, a spokeswoman for Covenant House.

"They come for the glitter and glitz they've heard about Orlando and
believe it will be a happy place," Ms. Tibbetts said. "What happens with so
many of them is they never set foot in the amusement parks and they end up
in marginal living situations and in some circumstances those totally fall
apart and they end up on the streets."

Stephanie Fincher, a 20-year-old recent resident of Covenant House who is
estranged from her adoptive parents in Atlanta, came to Orlando for work
and fun but became pregnant and ran out of money.

In donated jeans and an orange shirt, Ms. Fincher could pass for a
middle-class tourist. Her hair and makeup are flawless, thanks to
store-sample cosmetics, and the slick stroller in which she pushes her son,
Anthony, was donated.

"When I walk outside I don't look homeless," said Ms. Fincher, whose son
was named for another homeless shelter where she lived, Anthony's House, in
Zellwood, Fla.

She figures the misconceptions strangers have about her are just like the
ones she had about Orlando.

"I thought, 'Oh, this is going to be fun to live here,' " she said, "but it
didn't really turn out that way."