CANNABIS CLUBS SEEM TO THRIVE IN LEGAL MUCK

Prop. 215 Remains Under Attack By Federal Officials, Whose Fight Is
Confined To The Courtroom Thanks To State And Local Tolerance

While the legality of medical marijuana remains in limbo, Bay Area
patients are having little difficulty getting the drug.

In Northern California, at least 11 groups openly sell marijuana to
thousands of patients a month, despite a federal judge's order last
year that shut down the region's biggest clubs. Some require a
doctor's permission, while others sell it to any people who say
they're sick.

"There are clubs going on all over the place," said Dennis Peron, the
author of Proposition 215, passed by voters in 1996. "It's pretty wide
open."

At his marijuana farm in Lake County this month, Peron celebrated a
harvest of 60-100 pounds for distribution to his mostly Bay Area
clientele. It's not a clandestine operation. The Drug Enforcement
Administration busted it twice last year.

"They softened up this year," Peron said. "I think they got tired of
taking pot from sick people."

Three years after California voters passed Prop. 215, which legalized
marijuana use for medical purposes, the initiative remains under legal
attack by federal officials. But their fight is confined to the courtroom.

DEA agent Jocelyn Barnes said that until the legal issues are
resolved, federal officials are deferring prosecution of cannabis
clubs to local authorities.

"We will deal with the larger quantities, really just the cultivation
of thousands of plants for distribution, as a criminal activity," she
said.

Despite the passage of Prop. 215, it's still a federal offense to
grow, possess or sell marijuana. Last year, the Justice Department
sued to shut down marijuana clubs operating under the initiative.

U.S. District Court Judge Charles Breyer sided with federal officials,
forcing clubs such as the Oakland Cannabis Buyers' Cooperative to shut
their doors. Last month, the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals
reversed Breyer's ruling, finding he erred by refusing to hear the
Oakland club's "medical necessity" defense.

"(The club) presented evidence that there is a class of people with
serious medical conditions for whom the use of cannabis is necessary,"
the court ruled. "(The government) has yet to identify any interest it
may have in blocking the distribution of cannabis to those with
medical needs."

The ruling is an extraordinary victory for medical-use advocates
because it's a direct challenge to federal drug laws that make
marijuana illegal for any use.

"This is a movement that's spreading to other states, and I think
(federal officials) are under increasing pressure to think differently
about how they approach Prop. 215," said Gerald Uelmen, a Santa Clara
University law professor who helped represent the Oakland club.

The Justice Department must decide by Thursday whether to appeal the
9th Circuit's ruling. California Attorney General Bill Lockyer has
asked U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno to let the ruling stand.

Federal officials, who declined to comment, are likely to appeal it,
and it could be years before the legality of Prop. 215 is settled.
Ultimately, federal laws would need to be rewritten to agree with
medical-marijuana initiatives passed here and in five other states.

Until then, most believe federal officials will refuse to bust the
cannabis clubs as long as local authorities condone them.

"The feds don't want to be in the business of taking medicine away
from the sick," Uelmen said.

Northern California has the state's greatest concentration of groups
selling marijuana to the ill. There are seven groups operating in San
Francisco, with others in Santa Cruz, Fairfax, Ukiah and Berkeley.

The Oakland club operates a downtown storefront that sells
hemp-related products, but patients are referred to other clubs to
purchase marijuana.

Jane Weirick, manager of San Francisco's largest club, attributes the
flourishing of medical marijuana groups to the tolerant attitudes of
local authorities and Lockyer, a Prop. 215 supporter. His predecessor,
Dan Lungren, was a fervent opponent of the initiative who busted
Peron's now-defunct Cannabis Buyers Club a month before voters passed
the 1996 initiative.

During Lungren's investigation of the club, agents estimated that up
to 350 people an hour had visited the Market Street operation.

With patients now spread among numerous groups, none of today's clubs
are logging such volume business. Weirick said her group, the San
Francisco Patients Resource Center, has about 6,000 members.

Even though she has the approval of local and state officials, Weirick
still fears action from federal authorities. The center has affiliated
itself with a Catholic church.

"Because of that 800-pound federal gorilla, we may have no choice than
to grab the priest and cry sanctuary," she said.

Lockyer spokesman Nathan Barankin said the attorney general is trying
to negotiate a compromise with federal officials. While Reno and
federal drug czar Barry McCaffrey have balked at reclassifying it,
they "indicated a very strong interest in studying the medical
efficacy of marijuana" he said.

Lockyer has also proposed legislation that would establish standards
for selling marijuana to the sick and require patient ID cards. While
he supports the medical-marijuana cause, he believes the lack of
regulations leaves too much room for abuse.

"We're trying to put some reasonable constraints to implement the will
of the voters while at the same time being extremely concerned about
the concerns of law enforcement," Barankin said.

Lockyer inherited Lungren's criminal case against Peron's club, and
has refused to drop the charges. According to the indictment against
Peron, he sold marijuana to agents who provided notes from fictitious
doctors.

His trial is scheduled for January.

"This is not a medical-marijuana case," Barankin said. "The attorney
general believes you cannot use Prop. 215 to illegally distribute pot."

But Lockyer's sentiments are perhaps more evident in the deal he
offered Peron and four other defendants. In exchange for a guilty plea
to conspiracy to commit a public nuisance, Lockyer agreed to drop drug
charges that could have earned them nine-year sentences.

Their sentence for the conspiracy charge? Not a single day in jail as
long as the defendants remained crime-free for two years.

"It's practically a complete dismissal of the case," said Peron's
attorney, J. David Nick.

The four others accepted the offer. Peron refused.

"We're prepared to argue a defense based on necessity and the fact
that he was entrapped by these agents who took every means they could
to pass themselves off as very, very sick people," Nick said.