The Big Deal - Part 1A Of 5

THE BIG DEAL: ILLEGAL DRUGS IN THE ROCHESTER REGION

One of the most costly and complex problems facing our region is illegal
drugs and the ineffective way we fight them: That message has come through
loud and clear in the Democrat and Chronicle's eight-month investigation.
Today we offer the first report in an ongoing effort to help the community
come to grips with drugs.

For three decades, the Rochester region -- like the rest of the country --
has waged a war on drugs, spending hundreds of millions of local tax
dollars to eradicate illegal narcotics and to curb addiction.

This is what we have to show for it:

Drug-related arrests in Monroe County have swelled threefold in 10 years --
spurring a boom in the jail population -- yet police say they're hardly
making a dent in drug trafficking. Heroin, more potent and purer than ever,
is making a resurgence throughout the region -- including Ontario County,
where Geneva has become a hub of drug trafficking. Nearly 90 people have
died in drug-related deaths in Monroe County in the past two years.
Heroin-overdose deaths alone are five times what they were a decade ago.
And younger teens are being recruited to peddle drugs on street corners,
neighborhood leaders claim.

These are among the findings of the Democrat and Chronicle's probe into the
scope of -- and solutions to -- the local drug war. The project began eight
months ago when the newspaper convened those on the frontlines and in the
trenches -- counselors, police officers, judges, clergy, activists and addicts.

Although divided on such issues as whether to legalize drugs, they were
unanimous in expressing frustration over the way the drug war is waged --
and in voicing urgency about finding more effective ways to combat illegal
drugs.

"America's war on drugs, New York's war on drugs and Rochester's war on
drugs have all been an abysmal failure," said Rochester Police Chief Robert
Duffy. "I've never been a proponent of legalization, but what we're doing
now doesn't work. We have to rethink the whole way of dealing with this
problem, from enforcement to health and harm-reduction issues, to addiction
and how it's treated and prevented."

Duffy's stance reflects a shift in public attitude that's reflected in
popular culture -- notably the movie Traffic -- and in a recent Pew
Research Center poll showing that 75 percent of Americans view the drug war
as a losing cause.

In New York state, Gov. George Pataki has proposed easing the state's
Rockefeller drug laws, considered by many the harshest in the nation.

In Rochester, the attitude toward controlling illegal drugs has been
shifting for years. The state's first drug court -- which routes addicted
criminals into treatment -- opened here in 1995. Its success, and that of
similar courts, prompted New York's chief judge, Judith Kay, to order that
every county have a drug court by the end of 2002.

A year ago, Monroe County Family Court opened up a drug court for teens
with drug problems. And last month, it opened a court designed to
strengthen families stricken by addiction.

The search for further reform, however, is rife with stand-offs:

Civil rights activists -- pointing to the high proportion of African
Americans arrested and imprisoned on drug charges -- call for more
treatment and less police action. But neighborhoods infected by open-air
drug-dealing -- mostly poor, minority communities -- demand more, not less,
police activity. Those who push for greater access to drug treatment are
confounded by a system that doesn't ensure the poor have the same access as
the well-off. Forums on whether to legalize drugs -- sponsored by such
mainstream groups as the League of Women Voters -- explore the notion that
drug prohibition leads to crime and violence. But officials and activists
remain wary, considering legalization more of a surrender than a solution.

Matt Elliott, a 35-year-old city resident who has battled a cocaine
addiction for a decade, said he could always get his illegal elixir from
neighborhood dealers, regardless of how hard the police worked to sweep
them up. "You're not going to beat it," he said. "For every one of the dope
dealers who they take off, there's two more to move into their place."

An Endless War

When two Rochester police officers burst into a suspected drug house, a
woman leapt through a window to escape, only to be arrested by officers
outside the Romeyn Street home. Inside, police discovered a man hiding
under a bed and cocaine stuffed under clothes in a basket in the basement.

This was in February -- of 1923. On the same day that an article about the
bust ran in the Democrat and Chronicle, another story reported that federal
authorities planned to descend on Rochester because "drug traffic has
reached proportions never known before in the history of the city."

More than three-quarters of a century later, the same refrain is often
heard from public officials. "Drug dealing is sucking the lifeblood out of
many communities, making them dangerous and undesirable places," Mayor
William A. Johnson Jr. said in this year's State of the City address.

While it's difficult to quantify a community's struggle with drugs,
Rochester's drug-arrest rate is comparable to that of similar-size cities,
FBI research shows. Rochester does battle cocaine trafficking more than
such cities as Greensboro, N.C., and Louisville, Ky.

This is partly caused by Rochester's location. Near the New York state
Thruway, the city is a popular and accessible destination for cocaine
shipments from New York City. Law enforcement officials fear that
Rochester's proximity to Toronto -- where designer drugs such as ecstasy
are popular -- could lead to an influx here.

The region is also ripe for the portable methamphetamine labs popping up in
rural areas, police say.

Among New York's 62 counties, Monroe has the fifth-highest ratio of its
residents in treatment for addiction. While some officials view this as
testament to the availability of local treatment services, others say it
indicates the severity of the problem.

The soaring toll of illegal drugs shows itself in countless ways --
including the $54.1 million jail under construction in Monroe County, the
$28.5 million jail planned for Ontario County and the growing drug-related
caseload in local courts.

Most tragically, it shows itself in the loss of lives.

In January, during a raid of a suspected drug house, a Rochester police
officer fatally shot an unarmed man, Vernard "Vandy" Davis. In March, a
state agency concluded that inadequate treatment for heroin addicts at the
Monroe Correctional Facility led to the death of inmate Candace Brown in
September.

The deaths of Davis and Brown are only two publicized examples of drugs'
mostly hidden toll. The Monroe County Medical Examiner's Office each year
sees dozens of overdose victims, young men fatally shot in drug turf wars,
women and men whose drug use fatally exacerbates other ailments.

In the last two years, nearly 90 deaths in Monroe County were drug-related,
said the Medical Examiner's Office.

Jeopardized Justice

"The most glaring consequence of current drug policies falls upon African
Americans and poor persons in Monroe County," stated a Monroe County Bar
Association 1992 report. Data showed that African Americans were far more
likely to be arrested for drug crimes than white people.

The report recommended a "community-wide commission to investigate the
existence of policies and practices in the areas of law enforcement,
judicial administration and treatment services which have or perpetuate a
racially disproportionate impact."

That panel was never convened. And today, activists see no change.

The most aggressive law enforcement attacks on drug trafficking typically
focus on Rochester's low-income neighborhoods, according to law enforcement
officials. With police targeting poor neighborhoods -- many in northeast
and southwest Rochester -- the majority of arrests are bound to be of
African Americans. In the past six years, nearly 70 percent of those
arrested on drug misdemeanor or felony offenses in Monroe County were
black; African Americans make up about 14 percent of the county's population.

As many white people as black people seek treatment for addiction in Monroe
County and the region, according to data from the state Office of
Alcoholism and Substance Abuse.

"(Addicts) are equally represented across cultures and genders," said
Cheryl Martin, coordinator for Park Ridge Chemical Dependency Service's
in-patient programs. "Certain groups can do (drugs) so much more readily
before they get caught."

Residents and activists see few signs that the drug plague is receding.
Francisco Rivera-Mohammed, a member of Rochesterians Against Illegal
Narcotics, said dealers are out in force. "Based on the level of activity
we see in the streets now, it's going to be a long summer."

Authorities also worry that adults are recruiting young teens to peddle
drugs. Family Court Judge Anthony Sciolino in May confronted a 14-year-old
girl in his courtroom who owed more than $500 to a dealer for whom she was
pushing drugs.

In some cases, Sciolino said, parents encourage their kids to deal drugs to
bring in extra money. Drug-dealing is becoming such a lucrative proposition
to youngsters that officials and a neighborhood organization recently
created a video to show elementary school pupils the hazards of the trade.

Finding A Fix

A few battles have been won in the local drug wars.

Although crack cocaine is still easily available, police and addicts say,
it's not as prominent as it was during the early '90s, when Rochester's
homicide rate climbed steadily.

Drug-related violence in the city has decreased since a peak in 1993, when
70 people were slain. That year, nearly 45 percent of the homicide victims
had cocaine in their systems, according to the Medical Examiner's Office;
and nearly 40 percent of the slayings were occasioned by drug turf wars or
had other drug connections, police say.

Yet, if the demand for one drug wanes, it's often because another has taken
its place. Marijuana use is rising among teens, studies and Monroe County
Health Department surveys show, and heroin use is increasing again.

In 1990 and 1991, the Monroe County Medical Examiner's Office saw seven
accidental heroin overdose deaths. In 1999 and 2000, there were 35.

"We're getting four to five prisoners per day who, within 48 hours, go
through heroin withdrawal," said jail superintendent Robert Squires. "These
are not the casual users, but people with a longer history of heroin abuse
who are in terrible shape."

In some city neighborhoods, abandoned houses have become "shooting
galleries," where addicts congregate and inject heroin. To prevent
transmission of the AIDS virus, workers with AIDS Rochester clear away used
needles, so other addicts don't use them, and also provide clean needles.

"You need the needle," said a 40-year-old heroin addict, who asked not to
be identified. "If there's only one needle, everybody's going to use it."

A New Threat

Some police officials fear that the community may see a surge in designer
drugs. Police began noticing the effects of ecstasy abuse in the late 1990s
in local night clubs, said Rochester police Capt. Lynde Johnston. "Officers
were finding people passed out on the streets, all screwed up."

Local officials and police, acknowledging they've been unable to stanch the
flow of drugs, say the time is right to rethink strategies.

"We keep doing our part, making arrests, but it keeps getting worse," said
Brighton Police Chief Thomas Voekl.

Some activists recommend a greater focus on treatment -- and less on
arrests -- but wonder whether the current system is too entrenched to change.

"We have built this (prison) industry that feeds so much of our society,"
said Carolyn Portanova, president of Catholic Family Center. "We're so deep
into this system ... I don't know if we can step back and get out of it."

Some police officials, meanwhile, think that law enforcement should be
ratcheted up even more.

"The war on drugs is being fought with squirt guns," said Irondequoit
police Lt. Dan Varrenti, who heads the Multi-Agency Drug Task Force.

Finding consensus won't be easy. But, each day, more officials concur on
one point:

"People don't swallow the idea any more that it's OK to be tough on crime,"
said Canandaigua City Judge Stephen Aronson, who runs Canandaigua's new
drug court. "That's been the battle cry for years. It's filling our jails.
But does that address the problem?"

Includes reporting by staff writers Lara Becker, Gary McLendon, Alan
Morrell and Steve Orr.

About This Series

This is the first 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.

SIDEBAR:

Hypodermic needles, alcohol swabs and other drug paraphernalia litter an
abandoned house at 765 Clinton Ave. It has become a "shooting gallery"
where addicts congregate to inject heroin. Lisette Castro and Peggy
Carbonel, workers with AIDS Rochester's needle exchange program, clear away
used needles and leave clean ones to ward off the spread of the AIDS virus.

Keith Sampson, getting over a weekend bender of smoking crack cocaine,
checks out a group meeting after being admitted to the detoxification
program at Main Quest on West Main Street in Rochester. Sampson says that
he had been in the program once before but had left early. He says he
recognized familiar faces from the streets. Main Quest has 74 beds, and
they're usually filled.

Treatment Resources Don't Always Match Needs

On a chilly spring morning, two men wait outside a two-story
brick-and-cinder-block building on West Main Street.

Both want to enter the detoxification program at Main Quest, the Health
Association's 74-bed substance-abuse treatment facility. They say they've
been here for hours, yet neither will acknowledge who arrived first. After
all, getting a bed can require cutthroat tactics.

"I came up here yesterday also, and they didn't have any beds yesterday,"
says Keith Sampson, a 33-year-old African American struggling with cocaine
addiction and alcoholism. The other man, who is middle-age and white,
declines to talk.

Finally, a Main Quest nurse comes outside to inform them that a bed has
become available. She needs to know who arrived first, but they offer
differing stories. To settle the disagreement, the nurse flips a coin.
Sampson calls heads - and secures the bed.

The other man grows angry, complaining to the nurse. Within an hour,
however, another bed will open for him.

Many days, several people wait outside Main Quest, hoping to enter the
detoxification program, said Marjorie Fries, Main Quest's director of
primary care and inpatient services. Some days there is room; other days
those seeking help are told to try back later.

"We turn away a lot of people she said. "It's like dealing with women in
labor. It's not like we can say, 'Can you put this off until tomorrow?'"

What the public sees of the war on drugs is the police action - the arrests
that authorities say cracked a cocaine ring, the seizure of hundreds of
thousands of dollars of drugs.

The less visible component is the demand for treatment and a system that is
strained by the number of addicts looking for help on their own or being
routed to programs by the courts.

Some providers complain that there are too many impediments to building an
effective treatment network. Among the stumbling blocks, they say, are:

- - A shortage of "crisis" detoxification beds, especially for the poor -
Growing restrictions on which programs managed-care insurance will cover -
A lack of safe residential housing - away from drug-plagued neighborhoods -
for addicts - Too little intervention with addicts who have extended time
being "clean" but are still in danger of relapse - A quagmire of
bureaucratic red tape in licensing and program mandates - Waiting lists for
methadone maintenance programs, though this has been eased some by an
expansion of Strong Memorial Hospital's methadone program

Many of the building blocks of an entire system of rehabilitation - with
detoxification inpatient, outpatient and residential services - are in
place, providers and officials emphasize.

They say they're working to ensure that beds are available for people ready
to tackle their addiction.

"It's kind of hard to talk about rehabilitation without talking about the
whole continuum," said Stephen Dungan, Monroe County's mental health director.

Dungan and Thomas Haschmann, the regional coordinator for the state's
Office of Alcoholism and Substance Abuse Services, say the county has many
of the services necessary, and it needs to make sure they work in a
coordinated fashion.

State officicals measure how accessible treatment is by a county's rate of
admission to treatment services. On that scale, Monroe County fares well.

State research shows, for instance, that Monroe County residents use
substance abuse treatment at a greater rate than the state average - 225
treatment admissions for every 10,000 county residents versus 152
admissions statewide.

The rate at which Monroe County residents use specific rehabilitation
services, such as inpatient and outpatient treatment, also well outpaces
the state rate.

But the system still has holes, said Fries - specifically in the number of
available detoxification beds and in the accessible residential space for
recovering addicts. The state research is "not measuring the people that
are turned away," she said. "There's no way to measure them."

"I agree...that treatment is available," Fries said, "but it's not always
available in a timely fashion."

Our War On Drugs: Can We Win It? How?

Here's what some local leaders say:

"Quite frankly, if this thing is a so-called 'war,' it's hard to say we're
winning it....One has to wonder if we're spending our assets in the law
enforcement vs. preventive educaiton and treatment. I would like to see a
better balance." B. Thomas Golisano, Paychex Inc., president and CEO

"I support trying to eliminate supply, to try to keep it as low as
possible...But we must also be more willing to really see what drugs can do
to individual lives, to families. I would like us to take more innovative
approaches to the so-called war on drugs. We've got to have more treatment
and more drug courts and more options instead of what we have now." U.S.
Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, D-New York

"While we have made important strides in reducing and preventing crime in
New York, certainly we must do more to fight drug-related crimes and reduce
the presence of illegal drugs in our communities." State Sen. Michael
Nozzolio, R-Fayette, Seneca County, chairman of the Senate Criminal Justice
Committee

"I think people have realized that putting people away is not necessarily
the answer...More emphasis has to be placed on prevention and treatment
services." Nancy Padilla, Puerto Rican Youth Development President

"While we are making some progress, illegal drug use continues to be a
significant social problem. We must combat the problem with a
comprehensive, balanced approach - one that combines prevention,
intervention and law enforcement efforts." Jack Doyle, Monroe Country executive

"Drug addiction is one of the most serious public health problems in
contemporary society...The so-called war on drugs has been a bust. It has
done little to curtail the demand for drugs in our own country, while
pouring billions of taxpayers' dollars into source countries thousands of
miles away." Rep. Louise Slaughter, D-Fairport