DRUG WAR CLAIMS ONE MORE LIFE

Perhaps Camila Chavez was having a midlife crisis. She was 50 when she got
busted at the Greyhound station with drugs in her suitcase.

Or maybe it was the stress of losing the restaurant that had been her
source of income, and of raising two grandchildren, that sent her over the
edge.

Whatever. A Kansas City detective thought Chavez looked nervous when she
stepped off the bus from Wichita. She had a one-way ticket originating in
El Paso, Texas, a narcotics hotbed. And sure enough, she carried cocaine in
her luggage.

One small story in the drug wars.

Chavez's arrest on June 23, 1999, was her first brush with the law. She
handled it badly.

In an interrogation room, she gave a Spanish-speaking detective several
stories about how she happened to have more than 10 pounds of cocaine in
her carry-on luggage. She wasn't especially cooperative.

The detective did manage to pry from her an admission that the failed drug
run was her third. She'd been paid $1,000 twice before. This time, in
exchange for transporting a larger quantity, she'd expected to receive $2,000.

So it was that Chavez found herself in the custody of the U.S. government
- -- a bad place for a grandmother with enough involvement in the drug trade
to get into trouble, but without enough knowledge to deal her way out.

Under federal sentencing guidelines, Chavez would receive a minimum of nine
years' imprisonment, unless she could offer prosecutors "substantial
assistance" regarding other offenders.

Chris Whitley, a spokesman for the U.S. attorney's office, said Chavez
refused to cooperate until it was too late.

Her lawyer, Robert Rodarte, contends she tried to be helpful but didn't
know enough to be useful. Her story was that she was at a beauty shop in
Watsonville, Calif., where she lived, when she was approached by a
blond-haired woman, who told her of the opportunity to transport drugs for pay.

One thing Chavez had going for her was a sympathetic judge. Scott O. Wright
has been outspoken in his concern about tough mandatory sentences for
low-level drug defendants. He saw Chavez as a prime example.

"The sentencing guidelines are so severe. She had no previous criminal
record," Wright said.

Over the objection of the U.S. attorney's office, he ordered Chavez
released on bond, so she could try to identify her drug source in California.

Federal agents declined to help. Chavez met weekly with police in
Watsonville, but she came up empty-handed.

She pleaded guilty on April 21 of last year. Wright sentenced her to the 10
months' imprisonment she'd already served.

The U.S. attorney's office appealed, successfully. Wright had no cause, the
appeals court said, to depart from the sentencing guidelines.

Chavez now awaits a new sentencing date, at which time she most likely will
receive nine years. She will stay in prison until she is 60. Her
incarceration will cost taxpayers about $200,000 over the length of her
expected sentence.

Ten pounds of cocaine can spread a lot of misery. On the other hand, bigger
fishes in the drug pond have been able to trade information for leniency.

Former Kansas City Chief Tamarick Vanover, for one, admitted involvement in
two drug deals but was allowed to plead guilty to other charges. He
received two months' imprisonment and two months' home confinement.

In the scheme of things, Camila Chavez was a frail foot soldier. The drug
war will proceed, full speed ahead, without her.