The Big Deal - Part 3 Of 5

ONTARIO COUNTY COMBATS CRISIS HIDDEN IN A HAVEN

Even In This Idyllic Area, 80 Percent Of Jail Inmates Are Addicts, And
One-Third Of High School Seniors Say It's Easy To Get Heroin

With its wide-open landscape, picturesque communities and five pristine
Finger Lakes, Ontario County hardly looks like a battlefield in the war on
drugs.

"Drugs?" asks Kelley Reifsteck, a 17-year-old senior at Geneva High School,
as she wipes the counter at the New York Pizzeria in downtown Geneva. "Not
here."

The drug problem, she says, is in Rochester.

Indeed, in Rochester, dealers run their empires from street corners in a
decaying inner city. Theirs is a violent trade: A drug-related homicide
occurs on average every 22 days. The most recent one in Ontario County, 25
miles away, took place Jan. 29, 2000.

But that was an exception. For the most part, drugs remain a closeted
problem in this part of the region, a private vice -- and a growing one.

"When I go to the country club, people say to me, 'We have a drug problem?'
" says Canandaigua City Court Judge Stephen D. Aronson, who presides over
the city's new drug court. "You don't actually know the problem unless you
see it from where I sit."

From the perspective of those in the criminal justice and drug treatment
systems, the illegal drug business is perpetually booming in Ontario County.

It may be all the more difficult to detect because the major pushers in
this rural area tend to work in small, impenetrable circles.

But the county has the same drug problem, in varying degrees, as many other
New York communities: Crack cocaine, marijuana and methamphetamines are
ever-present, and heroin and ecstasy are on the rise, as is the abuse of
prescription drugs, according to the Sheriff's Department.

"We used to think it was seasonal," says sheriff's Investigator Brad
Falkey. "But there's no slow time anymore."

About 80 percent of the inmates in the overcrowded jail are addicted to
drugs and were incarcerated after committing crimes to support their
habits, says County Jail Supervisor Alice Haskins. That population is
fueling the need for a new $28.5 million building.

Treatment facilities in the area have expanded or need to. And nearly
one-third of Ontario County 12th-graders say that heroin is "fairly easy"
or "very easy" to get, according to a 1998 survey by the Partnership for
Ontario County.

The demand for illegal drugs has only increased as the population has grown
- -- from 95,101 people in 1990 to 100,224 in 2000, according to census figures.

Ontario County is on top of the problem now -- experimenting with new kinds
of therapy and alternatives to jail, says June Fisher, executive director
of Turnings, the county's substance abuse treatment and prevention center.

"But we're changing, we're growing. We're becoming more metropolitan."

Hub For Pushers

On March 21, 17-year-old Daniel Millerd was arrested in his mother's
Clifton Springs mobile home as he weighed cocaine on a scale on their
kitchen table. A total of four ounces was found in the home when police
searched it.

The teenager and his mother, Teresa Millerd of 103 E. Main St., were
charged with criminal possession of a controlled substance.

"Anymore, nothing surprises me," says Falkey. "We deal with every walk of
life."

Drug use and abuse has spread throughout the county -- from the village of
Clifton Springs to the city of Canandaigua. Heroin, especially, reaches
across boundaries that crack cocaine didn't.

But the epicenter has been and continues to be in Geneva, says sheriff's
Investigator John Storer.

The major reasons are Geneva's location -- directly off the Thruway and
between Rochester and Syracuse -- and the large number of people in
poverty. The median household income in the city of Geneva was $23,886,
according to 1990 census figures; it was $33,133 in Ontario County.

For the two or three crack houses in Canandaigua, Geneva has at least a
dozen, says Storer. "It's a major distribution point in a 50- or 60-mile
radius."

His trained eye can quickly spot Geneva's drug hotspots, pockets of illegal
activity just a few streets down from the stately houses on the bluff
overlooking Seneca Lake. The busiest of these drug markets is two blocks
from the police station: a wide-open parking lot shared by a popular bar
called Al's, and Baroody's, a cigar shop that sells drug paraphernalia,
including water pipes for smoking marijuana.

Baroody's owner, Bob Kerr, was reluctant to comment about the situation.
"It would hurt my business," he says. "If people don't realize it, I'd
rather not say anything."

Kerr says he has repeatedly talked to police about the loiterers outside
his shop. "But every time I talk to them, they tell me all they can do is
ask them (the people hanging out) to move on."

The law prohibits police from doing much more. "They have a right to
assemble," says Frank Pane, Geneva's police chief of 13 years. "Unless
they're violating some law, we can't arrest them."

Pane says Geneva police made 184 drug arrests last year -- the most ever --
and the majority of those arrested were from Rochester. Some were
"steerers" or "runners" -- police parlance for addicts who transport drugs
mostly for personal use. Others were "entrepreneurs."

"They come here and set up shop and sell (drugs) here. Then they go back.
It's hard to pinpoint," says Pane. "It's like trying to empty out Seneca
Lake with a bucket. It seems like every time we arrest somebody, somebody
else is willing to step in and take over."

It's a lucrative market, says Storer. He estimates that a $3 vial of crack
in New York City sells for $10 in Rochester, and $20 in Geneva.

Foot Soldier On Duty

On this spring afternoon, word on the street is that three "rocks" of crack
cocaine are going for no less than $50.

This is what "Lee," an informant for the Sheriff's Department for eight
years, tells Storer. (She asked that only her nickname be used in this
article.)

She has been paid to seek out a dealer, make the buy, and then rat on him.
At first, it appears the streets are dry. But 34-year-old, smoky-voiced Lee
finally cajoles one dealer into selling her just enough crack -- a chalky
rocklike substance -- to pinch between two fingers.

The cops will log the crack and Lee's account as evidence, but they'll have
to gather more before making an arrest later in the week. It's at the end
of the week, says Lee, that "things start popping in Geneva."

The drug scene has changed dramatically over the years, she says. When she
was growing up here, "you used to get more for your money."

Geneva ebbs and flows with drugs, she says: marijuana, speed, acid,
cocaine, crystal methamphetamine, ecstasy, heroin. Methods change. Prices
soar. Drugs stay.

"They say this is Little Rochester," Lee says.

Lee started using drugs as a teenager, following her older brother's
example. She got hooked on crack, began stealing, went through
rehabilitation, then started again. She has been clean, she says, since
Jan. 5, the last time she got out of jail.

Lee is one of hundreds of informants in Ontario County who are paid for
their information or excused from criminal wrongdoing. Her first informing
job led to the bust of a dealer known as The Haitian. Storer says he has
been deported.

In the beginning, Lee says, informing felt like betrayal. Today, she
regards it as a civic duty, like serving on a jury or voting. She doesn't
want neighborhood kids or her 4-year-old niece to be exposed to drugs.

Addict or no, Lee is a foot soldier in Ontario County's war on drugs. She
wanders the streets at night. Often, she says, she is looking to get high,
and she assumes the people she meets -- people she may eventually turn in
to the police -- have the same thing in mind.

"They ain't coming up here at 5 a.m. to say hello."

'Lure 'Em ... Eat 'Em'

Those who get caught dealing drugs in Ontario County must deal with
District Attorney R. Michael Tantillo, a Democrat in heavily Republican
territory who, colleagues say, has stayed in office for the last 11 years
by landing hard on criminals. He had the third-highest DWI conviction rate
in the state in 1999, according to the most recent statistics available
from the New York state Department of Criminal Justice.

He is equally aggressive about illegal drugs. That's why sheriff's
investigators draw suspects into Ontario County for arrest, in hopes that
those who are convicted will receive a stiff sentence.

"We're not just luring them in," says Falkey. "We lure 'em in and eat 'em."

But Ontario County's tough-on-drugs policy yields an ever-increasing jail
population -- one that has outgrown its current facility. A number of
inmates must be shipped off to other counties, or housed two at a time in
cells, despite concern that such arrangements can lead to violence. Others
have to sleep on mats on the floor.

Construction of a 276-bed jail in Hopewell is expected to be complete by
2003. Meanwhile, another solution is in the works: Canandaigua last August
became home to a drug court, like the one in Rochester, which routes
addicted criminals to treatment instead of jail.

It is in the process of seeking "hub court" designation, which would allow
it to take cases from all over the county. Right now, the nascent drug
court has only five participants (a sixth opted for jail instead of
treatment). They are all white, despite the fact that 25 percent of the
jail population is minority.

"We are at least in the crawling stage," says Judge Aronson.

Already, he and his "drug court team" of 11 colleagues have seen improvements.

"It's incredibly refreshing to see how effective it is," says Ginny Gumaer,
coordinator of the Ontario County Alternatives to Incarceration, who spent
the previous 17 years working for the county's Probation Department. "If
there's a sanction necessary, it's immediate. You don't have to wait around
for days or weeks. And even then, the court still says, 'We're here for
you. Are you ready to work on this addiction?' "

Prosecutor Tantillo is cautiously optimistic about this experiment. He
maintains that policing the problem is the most effective solution, at
least in pursuing dealers.

"What is the alternative?" he asks. "I think aggressive law enforcement
definitely keeps more people from using and abusing. Obviously, we're not
so naive that we think we're going to eradicate this problem."

About This Series:

This is the third report in the Democrat and Chronicle's ongoing
investigation, "The Big Deal: Illegal Drugs in the Rochester Region," which
continues through Thursday.

Next month, we will tell how a 19-year-old woman and a 46-year-old
basketball legend struggled with addiction.

In the following months, we will explore: the Rockefeller drug laws; other
communities' approaches to the drug wars; drug trafficking in the inner
city; drug use and the workplace; and drug treatment courts.

This project aims at exposing the local drug problem and stimulating a
community search for solutions.

To share ideas and information, contact Sebby Wilson Jacobson, assistant
managing editor for special projects:

Phone: 258-2233. Mail: Democrat and Chronicle, 55 Exchange Blvd.,
Rochester, NY 14614. Fax: 258-2237. E-Mail:sjacobson@DemocratandChronicle.com.

To share your opinions, contact the Editorial Board:

Phone: 258-2510. Fax: 258-2356. E-Mail:dceditpage@DemocratandChronicle.com.

Ontario County

Can The War On Drugs Be Won? How?

Here's what some local leaders say:

"We're not losing the war, but I'm not comfortable in saying we're winning
it. We're addressing it, and we're trying to prevent it from becoming
greater. I don't see it as a win-lose thing. It's a situation where we have
to continue to educate people." Ellen Polimeni, Canandaigua mayor

"I could put a deputy sheriff at every corner, and that's not going to stop
the trafficking ... We all would hope prevention and treatment programs
would receive more funding, so the types of problems we're having would go
away." Philip Povero, Ontario County sheriff

"I think aggressive law enforcement definitely keeps more people from using
and abusing. Obviously, we're not so naive that we think we're going to
eradicate this problem." R. Michael Tantillo, Ontario County district attorney

"If we've got drugs at all, it's too much. Things like heroin and that are
growing. (The war on drugs) apparently hasn't worked. We're kind of in a
stalemate." Donald C. Ninestine, Member of Ontario County Board of Supervisors

"It's not really a war, because in a war, you know, you can kill people. If
it was war, we wouldn't have to follow any laws. We could just go out and
eradicate it. This is a campaign, and we have to follow the rules. That's
what makes it so tough." Frank Pane, Geneva police chief

SIDEBAR:

An Ontario County sheriff's investigator escorts a handcuffed suspect along
the side of Interstate 490 in Ontario County after "eight balls" of cocaine
were found in the man's van. The suspect and his wife had been followed for
miles. (accompanied by photo) Ontario County sheriff's Investigator Brad
Falkey displays cocaine taken from a van driven by an East Bloomfield
couple who authorities say had dealt the drug for years. (accompanied by photo)

A Slow Day: Diary Of A Bust On The Road

He lies in wait in his car, in the Canandaigua Wal-Mart parking lot. He is
on the lookout for a couple from East Bloomfield.

The husband and wife allegedly have kept much of western Ontario County
flush with cocaine. They have eluded police for at least five years.

But now, John Storer is on the case. Bronx-born, father of four,
42-year-old Storer is a criminal investigator and undercover copy with the
Ontario County Sheriff's Department Narcotics Unit.

He wears a wire and carries bait - $560 in cash - in the back pocket of his
jeans. He has shed all evidence of his police officer identity: wallet,
keys, gun.

There have been other times, frightening times, when he has forgotten to do
this, when he has reached into his pocket to pull out money to hand to some
dealer and felt his badge. Even if only he knows this, his face, if it
drops, can be a dead giveaway.

Today, Storer says he is not nervous. "Not yet."

This is the easy part: He will hand the bills to the unsuspecting couple,
who were lured here by an informant trying to dodge criminal charges. If
all gos according to plan, the couple will then drive off to fetch the
drugs Storer has ordered and land neatly in his meticulously laid trap.

The couple arrives in a rusty, lumbering van, with drawn back-window
curtains and bumper stickers pledging allegiance to various Rochester radio
stations.

"It's like following a strobe light," sheriff's Investigator Brad Falkey
tells an observer as they wait in a car in a distant corner of the parking lot.

The couple pulls up to Storer's car and strikes up a conversation. They
tell him they have been arguing; the husband thinks they're being set up.

Falkey, listening in on his radio, jibes, "You are. But you don't know it."

As the van pulls out of the lot and onto Route 332, Falkey and two other
investigators follow in separate cars. Trailing far behind this motley
cavalcade, so the couple cannot see him, is Storer. The wife and husband,
whatever their qualms, have agreed to meet Storer and hand over the goods
in Victor.

The officers take alternate roads, periodically encountering the van as it
makes its way through construction-clogged Canandaigua, onto the Thruway,
I-490, Route 590, Route 104 and then north on Portland Avenue.

The police assume the couple will head into northeast Rochester,
destination of many dealers they routinely follow from Ontario County to
Monroe County. But the van pulls into a Home Depot in Irondequoit.

"Now we get to sit and wait while they go about their ordinary life,"
Falkey grouses.

Then the extraordinary happens. While maneuvering a toilet bowl from a
dolly into their van, the couple has a brief exchange with someone in
another car.

In the blink of an eye, in broad daylight, in a Home Depot parking lot: a
drug drop-off.

The couple heads back, past Eastview Mall and into Ontario County -
territory of District Attorney R. Michael Tantillo, who is known for being
tought on drug dealers.

From Falkey's radio comes Storer's voice: "Looks like they broke the
magical county line."

Another Ontario County sheriff's car, a canine unit, swoops down from a
nearby rest stop and pulls the van over for what police call a routine
traffic stop. The couple consents to a search of the van. Deputy Doug Smith
gets his dog.

Scoot, an 18-month-old black Labrador retriever, scratches and bites the
center console. He makes the "hit" in minutes.

Inside the console are four plastic-wrapped "eight balls" of cocaine" a
total of a half-ounce. An amount worth more than its weight in gold, at
least $600. An amount with the potential to earn its transporters, if they
are convicted, five years in prison - as much time as police have spent
chasing them.

The couple are immediately arraigned. They are charged with third-degree
criminal possession of a controlled substance and intent to sell.

"They've been a real thorn in my side," Storer says. "Except for today."

This will be a slow day in the life of the Narcotics Unit. The cops will
make only one other drug buy and arrest. A busy day can involve eight buys
and hundreds of miles of driving, with breaks to take the kids to baseball
practice and mothers to their doctors.

"My wife will ask me, 'What did you do today?'" says Storer.

"I say,'I drove. Everywhere.'"