STARK TO TACKLE DRUG ABUSE, MENTAL ILLNESS IN SNOHOMISH COUNTY

Six years ago, as director of the state's Division of Alcohol and
Substance Abuse, Ken Stark openly criticized Snohomish County
officials for refusing to open methadone-treatment centers for the
county's estimated 3,000 heroin addicts. Now he is taking over
Snohomish County's Human Services department, in which he will oversee
programs for substance abuse, mental health and homelessness.

Ken Stark wasn't the most popular man in Snohomish County six years
ago.

As director of the state's Division of Alcohol and Substance Abuse,
Stark openly and repeatedly criticized elected county officials for
refusing - for a decade - to open methadone-treatment centers for the
county's estimated 3,000 heroin addicts.

This month, he takes over Snohomish County's Human Services
department, a role in which he will oversee programs for substance
abuse, mental health and homelessness, as well as a $35 million
budget. Longtime colleagues of the 58-year-old Stark say he brings to
the job a focus on the cost and efficiency of services more associated
with the private sector than with government. And he's willing to
speak out when he sees a need.

"He's not afraid to stand up for what he knows is right. He's tough,"
said Ron Jemelka, who succeeded Stark as director of a state program
charged with revamping mental-health care.

Stark also inherits a potential political minefield. He replaces
Janelle Sgrignoli, who was fired by Snohomish County Executive Aaron
Reardon a week before Christmas. Reardon said he wanted a new
direction for the department of nearly 200 employees.

In June, the County Council, in a clear rebuke to Reardon, hired
Sgrignoli to develop a plan to improve mental-health and
chemical-dependency services, a plan Stark may ultimately have to
implement in his new role.

It's also a plan that could come with a price tag for taxpayers. A
blue-ribbon commission in January recommended that the county adopt a
one-tenth of one percent sales-tax increase to fund expanded
mental-health and drug- and alcohol-treatment services.

Stark has built a successful career in part by taking a conservative
fiscal approach to treatment programs and by using data and research
to identify need and show results.

Stark says there are cascading consequences when there is a lack of
treatment options: loss of jobs, loss of housing, the breakup of
families, acute medical conditions treated in expensive hospital
emergency rooms, and crime, arrests and incarceration.

He said an investment of $2,500 in treatment can pay off in almost $1
million in savings in health-care and criminal-justice costs.

"Because the current system focuses on those most in need, we don't
have the resources for others and we never get ahead of the game," he
said.

As director of the county's Division of Alcohol and Substance Abuse
(DASA), Stark hired a researcher to document how people in the system
were served and what the outcome of their treatment was. He argued
that better organized services could provide more effective treatment
for less money, which in turn meant helping more people.

"He operates like a person in the private sector," said Toni Krupski,
a researcher who worked with Stark at DASA. "He wants to know how much
it costs, how much is being saved and to be able to document the
results. A lot of people have vision, but that vision can cost millions."

Stark knows firsthand the devastation addiction can cause families. A
native of Saskatchewan, Canada, his parents divorced when he was 11
because of his father's alcoholism. He and his sister moved with their
mother to Seattle's Holly Park housing project, where almost
overnight, Stark said, he was thrust from a rural environment to one
charged with racial tension, drug use and violence.

He still bears a fading blue tattoo on his wrist that was administered
by a gang member using a sewing needle and India ink; it's a reminder
of what he was willing to do to belong. A former straight-A student,
Stark dropped out of school in the ninth grade.

The spark that helped him transform his life - as evidenced by his
33-year marriage, custody of his first child and two master's degrees
- - came as it does to many in trouble, he said. "I got sick and tired
of being sick and tired."

Stark spent 16 years running DASA, a position that made him an
advocate for methadone-treatment facilities that substitute a
synthetic opiate administered in a medical setting for heroin.

He led public hearings in Snohomish County in 2002 on the need for
treatment services and told county officials it was time to "step up
to the plate" and serve their drug-addicted population.

It was a stance that put him at odds with many elected officials, who
responded to public concerns about the potential for crime and
deteriorating neighborhoods around methadone clinics. Ultimately,
clinics were opened in Everett, Lynnwood and Arlington, but not
without angry public meetings and protracted legal fights.

In retrospect, Stark said, the state should have provided more timely
notice to cities that treatment providers were considering their
jurisdictions. And, he said, he understood that city officials were
representing their constituents.

Asked several times during an interview why treatment matters, Stark
demurred. Yes, he said, it can save lives, save families and avert
years of misery and self-destruction. But, he said, plenty of people
don't care about drug addicts, and they don't want to spend public
money fixing others' bad choices.

"You don't have to care about the person, just make a business
decision," Stark said. "Let's pay for the treatment and not the impacts."