METH'S HIDDEN COST AT THE WORKPLACE

Minnesota's Rural Expanse and Abundance of Small Companies Make It A
Prime Candidate for Meth in the Workplace.

Another casualty of the chaos was the couple's marriage. They
divorced in 2001. Early the next year, a suicidal Hauge-Johnson was
admitted as an inpatient to the Dellwood Recovery Center, an Allina
facility in nearby Cambridge. Johnson visited her there, and in
April, while still at Swede-O, he went into a 90-day outpatient program.

"I've known Fred for about 22 years," said Wilcox, who still is his
supervisor. "I always thought he was a nice guy, but I have seen him
go through this struggle -- come out the other side a whole lot
better and happier person."

Hauge-Johnson is now admissions director at Minnesota Teen Challenge,
a faith-based treatment center in Minneapolis.

"The job means everything to me," she said. "It's a purpose. It's
giving back. It's offering hope."

She also will start taking business courses in January at the
Anoka-Ramsey Community College in Cambridge.

Johnson and Hauge-Johnson give most of the credit for their sobriety
to the support of the Abundant Life Church in North Branch. The
couple remarried there July 29 last year.

"We had a new beginning," Hauge-Johnson said.

The powerful appeal

People love meth because instead of feeling high, they actually feel
more grounded.

"It's not an out-of-control experience, it's a 'more-in-control'
experience," Falkowski said.

Until it's not any more.

Krista Babolik started using meth 10 years ago when she was 22 and
doing clerical work.

"I doubled my data-entry speed at first," said Babolik, of Pine City.

Eventually the big spiral came for her: She took so much of the drug
one day that it kept her up all night, and then she had to take even
more the next day to fight off the sleepless fatigue, which kept her
awake another night, and on and on.

"When I wasn't using I'd be in bed, sick, telling myself I picked up
something from someone who was sick at work," Babolik said.

To cover her absences, she told her boss that her children had
chronic ear infections. Five years later she quit work, using the
excuse that she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom.

It took her another five years to hit bottom, which happened in March
of last year. She spent the month in Dellwood's inpatient program.

With a friend's help, she got a job in Rush City doing phone sales at
Dennis Kirk Inc., which makes replacement parts for recreational
vehicles. That was in April. Her recent three-month review, she said,
"is probably the best one I've ever had."

When you're addicted to meth, you do things you never thought you
would, she said.

"So getting recognition at work for things basically proves to you
that you can do something, you can be somebody again," she said.
"It's nice being able to look people in the eye."

Minnesota law limited

The majority of states have passed drug-free workplace laws that give
employers a discount on their workers compensation or health
insurance premiums if they fulfill certain requirements, said Sherry
Green at the National Alliance for Model State Drug Laws in suburban
Washington, D.C. Those include: a written drug policy, some form of
drug testing, employee assistance and drug education programs, and
supervisor training.

In Minnesota, Sen. Julie Rosen, R-Fairmont, plans to introduce
similar legislation in the upcoming session. "It's the medium-size to
small employers who are suffering," Rosen said.

The state now requires employers to have a written drug policy only
if they do drug testing, Minneapolis employment lawyer Joseph Schmitt
said. It also says employers can fire workers if they have drugs at
work but not if they test positive for a drug -- unless they then
refuse or fail treatment, Schmitt said.

Part of the problem for rural employers is the small workforce around
them, said Deborah Durkin, coordinator of the methamphetamine program
for the Minnesota Department of Health. She said that's why one
remote factory agreed to stop drug testing when employees said they'd
prefer to accept lower health benefits in exchange.

Clow Stamping Co. in Merrifield is a remote employer that has a
comprehensive policy on chemical dependency problems. The
300-employee company, which fabricates metal components for equipment
manufacturers, does universal pre-employment drug screening,
personnel manager Twyla Flaws said.

"We're highly industrialized, and working impaired is not safe,"
Flaws said. "We have very large equipment here."

Clow also tests employees under the conditions allowed by Minnesota
law, including workplace accidents or "reasonable suspicion" --
usually someone making a lot of mistakes or missing a lot of work, Flaws said.

The company's vigilance may be one reason Flaws remembers finding
only two meth users on staff in her 25 years at the company.

"It's prevalent in our area, but we know that and we watch for it," she said.

Getting back to work

Most addicts stop working, because regular jobs usually don't cover
their $50- to $100-a-day habit, said Robin Ringer, program manager at
the Dellwood Recovery Center.

They see that as one of their biggest blunders, Ringer said.

"In treatment, they talk a lot about the job they lost, or they talk
about hoping they have their job when they get back," she said. "Next
to the relationships with their significant others, it's the biggest
topic in group [sessions].

"They are people who got lost and they needed to find their way
back," she said, "and work is part of that."