WHEN METHAMPHETAMINE COOKS GET BUSTED

There's Still A Risky Job Left
To Do -- Cleaning Up Toxic Chemicals

Dave Morris, an expert in hazardous waste removal, is more afraid of
the criminals he cleans up after than the toxic chemicals they leave
behind.

Morris, 65, has a license to clean.

He is one of a handful of private contractors certified by the state
Department of Health to remove and neutralize the chemical residues
left by "cooks," the producers of methamphetamine and other illegal
drugs.

While toxic materials represent a hazard to Morris, the greatest risks
have little to do with fumes or acid spills.

"What's really dangerous is when the bad guys come back to the drug
lab looking for their stuff," he said.

Questioned about his presence, Morris plays dumb -- scrunching up his
shoulders and mumbling: "I don't know anything. The boss just sent me
here to clean up."

He could retire, but Morris is happiest when he's uncovering booby
traps and hiding places cobbled together by people he can only
categorize as either crazy or just plain brain dead.

"My wife worries about me -- she thinks it's pretty stupid for an old
man, but I love what I'm doing," said Morris, who in a white shirt and
khakis looks more like he just stepped out of a clubhouse than a crank
house.

On-the-job dangers include booby traps rigged with explosives,
hypodermic needles or returning cooks who want to know why he's
rummaging around in their former drug lab.

That's when Morris claims to be the indifferent handyman.

"We can neutralize the chemicals. That's the easy part," said Morris,
who works without police protection.

By the time he begins work, it's not uncommon for suspects to be out
on bail and snooping around as they attempt to salvage what the police
missed.

While firefighters or state Department of Ecology crews remove
chemicals from a meth lab, the site isn't considered inhabitable until
the county health department certifies that it's been
decontaminated.

Chemical residues in the sink, on bathroom tiles or the floor must be
identified and removed. Any absorbent materials, such as carpeting,
sofa cushions or bedding, must be taken to a hazardous waste dump.

Morris charges anywhere from $5,000 to $10,000 for his services,
depending on the extent of damage and the type of site, whether an
apartment, motel room or mobile home.

Morris begins by writing a detailed plan that must be approved by
health officials.

Based in King County, he and his three associates form one of only
three businesses in the state specializing in drug lab cleanup. The
other two are in Spokane and Vancouver.

Morris, who has been involved in environmental cleanup since 1964, got
his start in 1989 when a friend asked him to help clean a former drug
lab. Over the years, he's refined his methods, tools and approach.

An experienced chemist, Morris once oversaw cleanup of contaminated
Superfund sites. But in his current job, his most valuable skill is
his ability to "think paranoid," he said.

The addict's world is peopled by real and imaginary foes out to steal
a precious and lucrative commodity. And so he often booby traps his
warren with explosives, guns or cyanide, a poisonous gas that kills
swiftly. Finding those hidden snares requires thinking like a jumpy,
high-strung drug addict.

"I've learned how to open doors from around the corner with a piece of
string. These guys will put explosives in the refrigerator, " said
Morris, who once found himself peering down the barrel of a shotgun
wedged between two planks. "The police overlooked it. Fortunately, it
wasn't loaded."

"The Washington State Patrol routinely does bomb training and they're
nice enough to allow us to attend," Morris said.

While the state requires 80 hours of hazardous materials instruction
and an annual refresher, learning to think irrationally isn't
something a class can teach you, Morris said.

Find a milk bottle in the refrigerator?

It might hold milk or it might contain lighter fluid, acetone or lye.
Every substance must be tested; assumptions can be deadly.

"They'll put some pretty volatile chemicals into the refrigerator," he
explained.

Morris doesn't work more than six hours a day; the concentration
required is too draining.

While Morris uses a variety of substances to neutralize chemical
traces, his most important tools are a long-stemmed mirror, angled to
see around corners, and 15-inch forceps, used to pluck used needles
from behind sofas or between floorboards.

When police search a drug production site, they dump the contents of a
room onto the floor. It's how they sift for evidence such as drug
paraphernalia.

But they don't always find every weapon or every needle. Forceps in
hand, Morris can safely reach into crevices. With the mirror he can
peer around corners for any dangers -- such as a free-ranging python
that once slithered into view.

"That made a few more gray hairs pop out," he said. "Fortunately he'd
just eaten a big rat, so he was pretty docile."

In Eastern Oregon, it's not uncommon to use rattlesnakes to keep
people away, Morris said. "In the South I heard of someone turning an
alligator loose inside the house."

For protection from needle sticks or fangs, he wears
gloves.

Morris usually dispenses with a full protective suit, but there is the
occasional exception, and it's not always due to toxic chemicals.

In rural areas, barns and garages can be rife with owl and mice
droppings that sometimes contain the deadly hantavirus. In such
locales, he suits up.

Although some former drug labs harbor hidden perils, other hazards are
openly displayed.

"One place I went into, they had drawn a dartboard on the wall and
were using the used needles as darts," he said.

While his job brings challenges, it also brings disquiet -- such as
seeing the squalor in which children have lived while their parents
brewed drugs.

"Sometimes I just have to get out of there and quit for the day," he
said.

Equally reprehensible to him are the people whom Morris calls master
cooks, who extract a fee or percentage from those who want to set up a
drug lab. Master cooks provide equipment, instructions and recipes for
making drugs.

Generally they have some background in chemistry, while the students
have little or none.

Without understanding the inherent dangers, an amateur cook will
substitute ingredients or put a chemical in an unstable container,
which can result in an explosion or flash fire.

"This can be a sad business at times," Morris said.

Through the years, Morris has developed unique techniques for making
property inhabitable once again.

He's thought of writing a cleanup guide.

"I'm carrying 90 percent of this information in my head. There's no
guidebook in this field. Every site is a challenge."