HERE'S MY MARIJUANA CARD, OFFICER

In The Capital Of Legal Pot, You Don't Need Much Of An
Excuse

IT IS NOT THAT MEL BROWN, police chief of this tie-dye-and-tofu town,
set out to flout federal law. But here he is, a 53-year-old father of
two who has never inhaled, issuing laminated and embossed
get-out-of-jail-free cards for partakers of the infamous Humboldt bud,
a potent local variety of marijuana. "You can photograph me," he tells
a reporter genially, "but not reclining on a bearskin rug and smoking
a joint."

Arcata (pop. 16,000) lies in the heart of the Emerald Triangle, the
three lush California counties of Humboldt, Mendocino and Trinity, 275
miles north of San Francisco as the spotted owl flies.

In the '80s, capitalist hippies defended their marijuana plantations
here with booby traps and shotguns. George Bush sent in U.S. Army
troops to battle the domestic druglords. And even now, early fall is
signaled less by migrating geese than by helicopters swooping over
redwood forests and dropping camouflaged, machete-wielding agents into
any telltale patch of sparkling green.

Last year state and local officials eradicated 136,975 plants, many 10
ft. tall, with a wholesale value of $450 million.

But what's a conscientious cop to do when California voters pass a
ballot measure legalizing the cultivation and possession of marijuana
for medical purposes? And when all it takes to prove need is the
approval, written or oral, of a friendly doctor?

And when not just patients with AIDS, cancer and multiple sclerosis
are clamoring for the drug but also people with backaches, stress and
drinking problems.

One arrested planter told sheriff's deputies he was suffering from an
ingrown toenail, an excuse that did not impress them. Lucy May Tuck, a
volunteer who edits the newsletter at the Humboldt Cannabis Center, a
co-op that grows the drug for medical use, has a physician's
certificate to treat her hot flashes with the weed. Since Prop. 215
passed more than two years ago, says Police Chief Brown, "everyone we
try to arrest has a recommendation from Dr. Feelgood."

Though six states--Alaska, Arizona, California, Nevada, Oregon and
Washington--have voted to legalize medical marijuana, federal law
still requires them to prosecute any wheelchair-bound granny smoking a
bong. But they aren't doing so, and that has federal drug czar Barry
McCaffery muttering about a new "Whiskey Rebellion," the unsuccessful
1749 farmer's revolt against federal liquor taxes.

In Arcata, however, where 74% of the voters approved the state's
marijuana measure, Chief Brown considers his policy one of common
sense. "Out of self-preservation," he says, he set up his own system.

Now about 100 local residents have sat for mug shots, agreed to let
Brown talk to their physicians, and walked away with a "City of Arcata
Proposition 215 Identification Card." Flash it as you are toking up
and you won't be arrested, unless you've got more than 10 marijuana
plants--a limit imposed to distinguish users from illegal dealers.

Other jurisdictions, including Mendocino County, plan to follow
Arcata's example, and a task force appointed by Bill Lockyear,
California's new attorney general, is looking at Arcata as a possible
statewide model. Although other communities might be less mellow about
the idea, no dissenters showed up at public hearings when Arcata's
city council-composed of two Green Party members, a Libertarian and
two Democrats--approved Brown's ID system.

That's to be expected, perhaps, in a town that has declared itself a
"Nuclear Weapons Free Zone"; that in 1991 passed a resolution--albeit
quickly rescinded-offering sanctuary to Persian Gulf War resisters;
and where students from Humboldt State University hold an annual
Hempfest, promoting a nonpsychoactive form of cannabis for use in
clothing, paper and food.

"My Mexican-American aunties used marijuana poultices for their
arthritis," says Arcata Mayor Bob Ornelas, a ponytailed electrician.
Ornelas boasts of running marathon races while high on weed but
insists, "I don't get stoned that much."