'HEROIN HILL' A DRUG HAVEN NO LONGER

"Heroin Hill" had a storied reputation.

Drug users in Pierce and King counties knew the Puyallup-area property as a
place to sleep, get their fixes or hide among the dilapidated outbuildings
and abandoned vehicles.

Pierce County sheriff's deputies knew the 3-acre lot off Pioneer Way as a
haven for people with outstanding warrants for crimes ranging from drug
possession to bank robbery to murder.

"We could arrest people out there every day," deputy Jeff Papen recalled.
"The property became kind of a hazard to anyone who entered it."

But to 81-year-old Charlie Batts, Heroin Hill is home.

And after years of neglect, the wooded property - once cluttered with
discarded tires, empty beer bottles, battered furniture and hazardous
needles - has received a thorough cleaning.

Trash that once covered nearly every inch of the ground has been hauled off
in 10 of the 30-cubic-yard containers commonly seen at construction sites.

Bushes that once provided cover for people hiding from deputies have been
trimmed. Part of a large garage has been demolished.

Tuesday, a crew removed 150 tires.

At the request of the sheriff's department and the state Department of
Corrections, eight companies and organizations volunteered to clean up the
land.

"This is not the norm," said Craig Swanson, a project manager with Pierce
County Responds. "We don't hand out to everybody."

The coalition of representatives from six countywide agencies targets
illegal dumping and nuisance vehicles. It maintains a "dirty dozen" list of
the county's worst dump sites and works to get them cleaned up.

The makeover of Batts' property was work he couldn't do by himself.

A retired Asarco Smelter employee, Batts hurt his back several years ago
when he slipped on wet grass while mowing his yard. He's had problems ever
since and now uses a walker to get around.

"Charlie could never afford something like this," said Papen, who estimated
the work was worth at least $50,000.

Batts watched his property, tucked into the steep hillside above Pioneer
Way and once featured in Sunset magazine, slowly deteriorate over the years
as dozens of people abused his standing offer of a place to stay.

"The wrong type of people started taking advantage of it," Batts said. "One
fellow came in there had lost his home. He wanted to stay for a few days
and he was there three years."

After his frequent visits to Batts' property, Papen spearheaded the cleanup
effort for the sheriff's department's community support team. The five
deputies and a sergeant work throughout the county on pesky properties that
draw crime.

"We needed to do something that will have a lasting effect, more than
arresting people," said Papen, who carries around a white binder filled
with information on the project.

"Because we work all over, we get to see the worst properties in Pierce
County. His is easily one of the worst."

Dave Getty, who'd organized the corrections department involvement, agreed.

"They had described this thing in pretty dismal terms," he said. "I went up
there and the scale of it and just the filth were beyond anything that I
expected."

On Getty's first visit, he noticed 150 to 200 needles in a canister of
Batts' basement. Outside, he spotted a tree decorated like a Christmas tree
with empty beer cans. A teddy bear was wedged into one branch and a bottle
of Mad Dog wine in another.

"It had gone from a fairy tale-type place to just a nightmare," Getty said.
"We needed to provide whatever catalyst was necessary to make this happen."

As the cleanup work progresses, Batts is living in an apartment in Tacoma.
His manufactured home burned down earlier this year in an accidental fire.

A modular home eventually will replace it, putting the final touch on the
makeover of Heroin Hill.

Batts moved onto the property in 1963. At the time, before the trees across
Pioneer Way were mature and tall, he had a view of Mount Rainier and the
surrounding foothills from the kitchen in his two-story house.

He worked at the smelter and raised four sons, allowing the boys' friends
to stay at the home when they needed somewhere to sleep, Batts said.

"I guess I felt sorry for people," he said.

Over the years, Batts offered his home to former jail inmates who needed
somewhere to stay while they searched for jobs and other accommodations.
Many were drug users.

"He has a good heart," Papen said. "He wanted to give people a chance."

But over time, word spread about Batts' generosity. Before long, three drug
dealers set up business on the property - one sold heroin, one
methamphetamine and one a little of both.

"Unbeknownst to Charlie, the traffic was not coming to visit him," Papen
said. "They were coming to buy drugs."

Stolen vehicles were dumped there. Deputies were frequent visitors,
arresting men and women for forgery, fraud, bank robbery and homicide.

"We'd go up there and say, 'Who is here today?'" Papen said. "It wasn't
Charlie Batts' place anymore. It was Heroin Hill."

The visitors ate Batts' food, stole his tools and used the electricity.

"They just kept piling in on me," Batts said.

Last year, Batts asked the sheriff's department for help.

"I didn't like it," Batts said. "I didn't like the police coming there all
the time. I have grandchildren. I didn't want them there in that kind of
atmosphere."

Deputies started with the trespassers. They contacted them at Batts', in
the community and at the jail. The illegal visitors signed letters
acknowledging they were trespassing and would be arrested or cited if
caught when they returned, Papen said.

"There is no expiration date attached," Papen told the trespassers. "Don't
come back."

Since, Papen has caught two people on the property. He wrote a citation to
one and took the other to jail.

In addition, a towing company hauled off at least six abandoned vehicles.

Last month, two corrections department crews from the prerelease center
spent hours picking up trash. Excavating equipment was used to demolish
part of an outbuilding that once housed Batts' workshop and a storage area.

"The living conditions were what you would be seeing in a third world,"
said Bob Barry, senior estimator and project manager of Ceccanti Inc. in
Spanaway. Ceccanti donated the excavator and a crew.

A community group will landscape part of the hillside. Another company
still needs to remove some household hazardous waste.

Batts, sitting on a stool in his garage, could see workers as they piled
tires in one area and tossed discarded cans in another.

"I wanted to just retire here and enjoy myself," Batts said. "I got invaded."