MINISTER'S INITIATIVE STILL TARGETS 'LOVE ROSES'

DURHAM -- Were it not for the work of the Rev. Melvin Whitley,
Operation Pipe Dream might have become just that -- a pipe dream.

Whitley's initiative, which is aimed at banishing from Durham
convenience stores the glass "love roses" that double as pipes used
by addicts to smoke "crack" cocaine, has gotten a lukewarm response
from local merchants.

More than three weeks after Whitley and fellow activist Bill Anderson
besieged convenience stores across the Bull City asking owners to
stop selling the so-called love roses, 31 of the 49 stores targeted
were still selling the half-inch diameter tubes known to crack
addicts as "stems."

But with the added support of City Council members like Mike Woodard
and Thomas Stith, as well as the firm support of Durham Police Chief
Steve Chalmers, Whitley is optimistic a local ordinance proposal he
plans to introduce Sept. 21 will receive full City Council support.

Initially, Whitley said he received word that city officials felt the
ordinance was unnecessary. Assistant City Attorney Kim Grantham
explained that she felt state ordinances addressing the same topic
negated the need for a local ordinance. But after speaking with
Whitley, Grantham said they had "a meeting of the minds."

Whitley, Grantham said, explained the local ordinance would institute
a fine for merchants caught selling "love roses" or other items
determined to be drug paraphernalia. State laws against paraphernalia
target those individuals caught in possession of paraphernalia, but
not those who sell drug paraphernalia, she said.

While Whitley's ordinance, modeled after similar laws passed in
Charlotte and Greensboro which carry fines of between $50 and $100
for merchants who sell drug paraphernalia, packs "not much of an
enforcement punch," Grantham said, it does have "symbolic value."

But Chief Chalmers, who personally promised Whitely he would support
Operation Pipe Dream, said the way his officers would enforce the law
would be anything but symbolic.

"My position has always been that we can do anything we can do to
support community efforts [such as this one]," Chalmers said, "We're
already talking about ways of enforcement."

Woodard said he couldn't think of any reason for a council member to
vote against the ordinance. Woodard added that InterNeighborhood
Council, of which he is president, was one of the original backers of
the initiative.

Stith, who also promised to support the ordinance, called the
initiative "a small step."

The success of Whitley's campaign also depends on his own vigilance,
according to anti-drug activist Darryl Rouson. Rouson, an attorney
and former St. Petersburg, Fla., NAACP president, won his battle
against the so-called love roses five years ago but is fighting to
see similar ordinances passed across the country. Hard work,
forcefulness and persistence helped him get love roses outlawed in
his own community, Rouson said.

Whitley found Rouson when searching the Internet for ordinances
similar to the one he proposes in Durham. Whitley quickly learned
Rouson, a former crack addict, had personal reasons for wanting to
see the availability of the glass tubes end.

Rouson's descent into addiction began in 1983, two years after he
became the first black prosecutor in St. Petersburg. Alchoholism
turned to drug abuse, which led to a 10-year hiatus from law practice
and an all-time personal low.

"I was living life 175 miles per hour in a 55 mile per hour zone. I
lost my family. My practice closed around me."

When he found clarity in 1998, a year after losing his wife to
cancer, Rouson became determined to use his legal expertise to help
others involved in struggles similar to his own. He began confronting
store owners who sold love roses, at times taking boxes of love roses
from stores and leaving in their place his business card.

Whitley will need to be stubborn, Rouson warned, and will need to
step in for "defenseless addicts whose willpower has been undermined
[by] addiction."

For his own part, Whitley continues to be confident about the initiative.

"It's like asking [the City Council] to vote for apple pie," he said,
"Who could say no?"