METH WAVE OVERWHELMING SMALL MISS. COMMUNITIES

SANFORD - In his 42 years, John Folkes says he's never seen anything upset
his Covington County community as much as the illegal drug methamphetamine.

It's no secret who's dealing meth, a stimulant selling on the street for
$100 an ounce by the names "speed," "ice," "chalk," "crank," "fire,"
"glass" and "crystal," Folkes said.

He believes local law enforcement has done little to stop it.

"We never had a problem like this before," said Folkes, owner of Salvage
49. "There are 10 roads in lower Covington County where meth is sold openly
out of homes. Within a half-mile on one road in Sanford, there are seven
drug dealers."

Two-term Covington County Sheriff Stann Smith says he has locked up several
drug dealers, but it's never enough.

"I wish we could wipe out drugs, but we operate on a small budget," said
Smith, whose five deputies last year responded to 5,800 emergency calls
within the county's 420 square miles.

In January, Folkes says, he met with the state Bureau of Narcotics, state
Attorney General Mike Moore and Lt. Gov. Amy Tuck to tell them about drug
problems in Covington County. Shortly afterward, Folkes co-founded
Concerned Citizens of Covington County, a nonprofit community group.

He had to call off plans to have Moore and Don Strange, director of the
Mississippi Bureau of Narcotics talk Tuesday night at Collins High football
stadium about combating meth. Moore canceled due to the scheduled Wednesday
execution of death row inmate Tracy Hansen by lethal injection, Folkes said.

"Meth is not unique to Sanford," Strange said. "It's been there for years.
Maybe it's disproportionate to their population, but the whole of
Mississippi has seen a great increase in the manufacture of meth."

State narcotics agents say meth is Mississippi's new cottage industry.
Hardest hit are tiny towns like Sanford, with limited law enforcement
resources and dozens of back roads that tie into major arteries - I-59,
I-84 and U.S. 49.

"These meth dealers don't stay in one location very long," Smith said.
"It's frustrating, because there's always someone who'll take their place.
We already know the names of some of the people making meth. Catching them
at it is a different story.

"In 1996, truckers and motorcycle gangs were bringing meth in from
California," Smith said. "Then, all of sudden people started to learn how
to make the meth at home."

Almost all of the ingredients used to make meth are store-bought -
denatured alcohol, lithium batteries, lye, paint thinner, pseudoephedrine,
sodium chloride, sulfuric acid. Anhydrous ammonia is often stolen from
Delta farmers, who use it as a fertilizer, or from chicken processing
plants that use it as dry ice.

Recipes for homemade meth have spread rapidly with the advent of the
Internet, said Ronnie Frazier, agent in charge of the McComb district for
the state Bureau of Narcotics.

"We're knocking down the meth labs, but the network of people hoarding
precursor chemicals is growing," Frazier said.

"The problem with the stuff is it's so easy to produce cheaply, but the
resources to fight this stuff are expensive. You have to have trained
people to handle these meth labs. You don't do it on a sheriff's department
budget."

For four generations, Folkes' family has lived in the farming communities
of Covington County - Collins, Mount Olive, Sanford and Seminary. With a
population of 17,239, it's a tiny place in south-central Mississippi,
better known for canoeing on Okatoma Creek than big-city drug problems.

But it's no longer safe for children to cool off at local swimming holes as
drug addicts shoot up under the Lux Road River Bridge and throw syringes in
the water, Folkes says.

"As parents, we have to educate, provide and protect our children," Folkes
said. "When parents fail, law enforcement has an obligation to protect our
families. They can't wait. It has to be done today."

About a year ago, Paul Ingram, 19, of Sanford, the youngest of three
children, stopped showing up for work at his family's construction company.
He started lying about where he went and who he was with, said his parents,
Rose and Clay Ingram of Sanford, who also pastors a church in Collins.

"He is a meth junkie," Clay Ingram said of his youngest son, a 10th-grade
dropout. "He started talking about how much money could be made making
meth. He said with $100 worth of ingredients, he could make $3,000. I told
him the Bible talks about how the love of money is the root of all evil."

When Paul Ingram binged on meth, he disappeared for days, his father said.

Nightly, Clay Ingram knocked on doors at certain houses in Covington
County, inquiring after his son. He says his son's loyal drug friends shook
their heads: No, they hadn't seen his son.

Last week, Paul Ingram came home again. This time, he signed up for a drug
rehabilitation program at East Mississippi State Hospital, said his father.

But he won't be going.

Paul Ingram is charged with accessory to murder after the fact in the July
3 shooting of Kenneth Mooney, 19, of Sanford, said Sgt. Doug Halliburton of
the Hattiesburg Police.

"Paul's life has gone downhill," said Clay Ingram, who drove his son to the
Hattiesburg Police Department to turn him in and posted his $20,000 bond.

Clay Ingram says his son has lost 50 pounds. That's not unusual for a meth
addict. They often grow thin from not eating, hallucinate from lack of
sleep, heavily arm themselves against people and things nobody else can see.

Meth can cause increased heart rate and high blood pressure, and it's
associated with heart attacks, strokes and self-mutilation.

"There are many young people like Paul in Sanford that this has happened
to," Clay Ingram said, referring to his son's drug addiction. "We hope
Paul's like the prodigal son. That's what we hope for. He's our baby, and
we hate to see him ruin his life."