RELOCATED 'RAVE' A PROMOTIONAL SUCCESS

Police Root Out Drugs, Subduing Fresno Event That Had Been Scheduled And
Canceled In S.J.

FRESNO -- The two-day music fest faded just before dawn Sunday, peacefully
ending the largest organized "rave" in the West, a boon for promoters
trying to prove the commercial viability of massive, mainstream dance parties.

By any measure, the weekend extravaganza billed "Cyberfest 2000" was over
the top. Promoters and police estimated a crowd of 25,000, surpassing
previous record attendances in San Jose, where officials canceled the
all-night parties, claiming they were dangerous and drug-infested.

But Fresno's fete was fairly trouble-free. On the sprawling county
fairgrounds were more than 50 deejays, six main dance floors, several
smaller ones and a mini-carnival. There were armies of gyrating dancers and
an onslaught of bass-heavy beats and laser light attacks.

And sure, there were euphoric drugs, rave staples since the large-scale,
electronic dance craze took off in the early 1990s. Using 30 undercover
agents, police arrested 26 people, all but one for allegedly being under
the influence or dealing the synthetic drug "ecstasy."

But the police presence bolstered by another 140 uniformed officers clearly
nipped the marijuana buds and designer drugs, making the stereotypical
sweaty, teeth-grinding, bleary-eyed raver a relative scarcity. Promoters
paid the $40,000 bill for security.

"I could care less about the drugs and I'm glad they're not here," said
Laurel Mitchell, 19, of Cupertino, moments after taking a break from the
cigarette-choked and balmy dance floor.

Besides paying for security, promoters chartered buses to carry partygoers
who paid at least $40 a ticket for the event.

Dane Suenaga, a 19-year-old Christian fellowship member who joined other
religious groups invited by police to the 14-hour event, had his eyes
opened. "I'm learning a lot. I used to have the stereotype of a rave as a
drug fest," said Suenaga, a student at the University of
California-Berkeley. "We've met a lot of good, beautiful people here."

Among them: a crew of fire jugglers, trapeze artists, flame throwers and
extreme-sport exhibitionists, including skateboarders and in-line skaters;
caged dancing women covered in glow-in-the-dark paint; and popular rave
deejays in baggy pants and gas masks.

But how beautiful it was depends on whom you talked to -- and when.

Mother's fright

Norma Torres, 35, of Fresno agreed to let her 15-year-old daughter,
Natalie, attend the event if the girl promised meet her mom at midnight and
go home. "My mother would've never let me come to something like this,"
Torres said at about midnight as she waited for Natalie. "But she was too
strict. I didn't want to be that way."

An hour later, Torres still waited. Searching the crowd and using her cell
phone to call her daughter, she wiped tears at about 1:30 a.m. A few
minutes later, she found a friend of Natalie's who said her daughter was
safe but still dancing with a boyfriend.

"I don't know if I'll let her come again," Torres said quietly.

Fresno police Lt. Robert Navarez said he knew his city was turned into a
testing ground, scrutinized by other cities with burgeoning ravegoers and
entrepreneurial promoters checking the viability for massive and safe rave
venues.

"I could see why another city wouldn't want to go through this," said
Navarez. "But whether Fresno has another one is up to public opinion and
public officials."

Navarez, the police commander in charge of the event, said he was
disappointed at how easily undercover officers found drugs despite metal
detectors and pat searches at entrances.

"But 90 percent of the people who showed up came to behave and have a good
time," he said. "We could do this again here, but I wouldn't do it with
anything less that 140 cops."

That's far more than San Jose's 20 cops who on June 17 kept watch over the
city's latest and perhaps last rave, which attracted about 20,000. Fresno's
event was planned after San Jose canceled another event that had been
scheduled for July 1. That decision was based on the results of June's
"Metropolis" party at the Santa Clara County fairgrounds, which was marred
by stabbings, eight arrests and more than a dozen overdoses. Police claimed
later that half of the participants were high on more than music.

San Jose's high-profile shut-down of raves left planners in Fresno just two
weeks plan. More than 100 media members covered it, from ABC television's
"20/20" to MTV's documentary film crew.

"It's a big commercialized event," said David Thomson, 21, of San
Francisco. "But it's great. Good music. It's all about the music."

Those were cash-bells ringing in the ears of promoters, Coolworld.com, the
sponsors who bragged that true-blue ravers would travel anywhere for a
quality show, even Fresno, where "hot" usually means 100-degree days.

"San Jose lost the ability to be the center of the new youth movement.
Fresno welcomed us with open arms," said Sason Parry, founder and CEO of
Alameda-based Coolworld. His company promoted the ill-fated "Metropolis."

"The Metropolis problems were completely inaccurate and blown out of
proportion," Parry said before Sunday's venture ended. Still, he didn't
take exception to the assessment by Santa Clara County supervisors that
raves should have midnight curfews, age limits and heavy security.

Freedom for organizers

"We weren't kicked out of Santa Clara County, we had a difference of
opinion," said Parry. "We didn't want to compromise the integrity of the
events."

With the promise of hiring the large number of officers, Fresno opened its
doors, allowing Parry to sell as many tickets as he wanted and the party to
go until 4 a.m.

He maintained that drugs are not tolerated at Coolworld events, and said he
believes that his company and its parties have been targeted unfairly by a
"sensationalistic media trying to find a story."

"Eight people died at a Pearl Jam concert, but no one is saying we should
ban concerts," Parry said. "Our events are safe. They are not violent."

They're also meant to be drug-free. But even the strictest security wasn't
able to weed out every pill and potion ravegoers tried to sneak in.

Police cracked down on some of the sought-after accessories of the modern
rave culture; pacifiers, bottles of vapor rub and doctor's masks, all used
to enhance drug effects. They were banned, and anyone caught was forced to
trash them.

Drugs still available

"They're really cracking down tonight," said Patrick Donaldson, an engineer
from upstate New York who taped two tablets of ecstasy to his body, hidden
by underwear. "But if you're looking hard enough, you'll definitely find
whatever you're looking for. Things are just a little more quiet here."

A 23-year-old from Walnut Creek who tells friends he meets at raves that
his name is Johnny Blaze, a moniker stemming from his love of marijuana,
complained quietly about the lack of drugs at Fresno's rave.

Blaze wrongly guessed "there must've been 500 cops here. That's just too many."

But he was thankful for a friend he ran into who gave him a birthday dose
of ecstasy and didn't mind that drugs weren't readily available. "I had a
hit, so I'm fine."

Contact Daniel Vasquez at dvasquez@sjmercury.com or (408) 920-5406. Contact
Eric R. Drudis at edrudis@sjmercury.com (408) 920-5444.