CARTELS RECRUIT HOMELESS TO RUN DRUGS OVER BORDER

SAN DIEGO - Philip Ginder was living on the streets and in homeless shelters when he met a recruiter with a tempting offer.

"He said, 'You want to make some money running drugs across the border?' and I jumped at it," Ginder, 41, recalls. "Now I wish I hadn't done it."

Ginder got caught.

U.S. Customs Service agents arrested him with nearly 226 pounds of marijuana as he returned to San Diego from Tijuana, Mexico, in a stolen 2000 Ford Expedition last month. The Iowa native, who said he's been homeless since he was 16, faces five years in prison.

No one knows how often homeless people are used as drug couriers; Customs and the other federal agencies that patrol the nation's borders don't keep statistics on the issue. But Ginder was at least the sixth arrested in less than a month at crossings in Southern California.

The reason is simple. Mexico's drug cartels look for couriers who are desperate enough to risk prison for the $500 to $1,200 typically paid to smuggle the contraband, said Larry Latocki, assistant special agent in charge of the San Ysidro office of the Customs Service.

Men like Ginder are ideal candidates. Unable to read or write, he has dim job prospects. He had been living in San Diego, sometimes staying at the St. Vincent de Paul shelter, for three months when he met the recruiter on a downtown street. Ginder is vague about the details. The recruiter was in his 40s, clean-cut, spoke fluent Spanish and English and gave his name as Butch. He offered $1,000 for the job.

"I had no idea how much I'd be bringing or what type," Ginder said. "I knew it was drugs."

The scenario, vague as it is, sounds both plausible and familiar to law enforcement officials and people who work with the homeless in San Diego.

Counselors at St. Vincent de Paul last year even posted signs warning residents about the offers, said Al Cook, the shelter's director of support services.

"You've got to realize, the people we serve are a vulnerable population," he said. "When someone comes waving easy money in front of them, it's a strong temptation."

Even the risk of prison isn't that intimidating to someone who sleeps outside, said Bob McElroy, president of a homeless assistance agency called the Alpha Project.

"Some of these guys are living in the canyons," McElroy said. "They're thinking, 'Hey, if I get busted, I'm going to get three hots and a cot for a year or so.' There's no risk."

Last year, Customs made 4,300 seizures of marijuana, cocaine, heroin and methamphetamine at the five crossing points along the state's 140-mile border with Mexico. The marijuana alone totaled 385,000 pounds; the cocaine nearly 10,000 pounds.

Between Aug. 10 and Sept. 4, agents arrested six homeless couriers carrying 545 pounds of marijuana. Five were in San Diego, and one was in Tecate to the east, according to court records.

Contraband is hidden in secret compartments in gas tanks or in the roof or sides of cars and sport utility vehicles. But it's become harder to pull it off: Agents have become proficient at detecting hiding spaces; they can monitor how often a vehicle crosses the border; and dogs that can detect the scent of narcotics are in use at every port of entry.

Often enough, it's the driver who gives it away with shaking hands or other signs of stress.

That's what happened to Ginder. The recruiter took him to Tijuana the night before the job, paid for a haircut and bought him new clothes. It was his first time in Mexico.

"I was nervous, real nervous. I was up the whole night the night before," he said.

That apparently showed when he reached the San Ysidro Port of Entry, an often chaotic, 24-lane complex that is the world's busiest border crossing. A Customs inspector was suspicious enough to check the Expedition in a law enforcement database to learn it was stolen.

After a search turned up the marijuana, Ginder confessed.