DRUG DEALING MAY LEAD TO LOSS OF FAMILY'S HOMES

TO STOP CRACK SALES, STATE TRIES TO SEIZE LAND HANDED DOWN FOR FIVE
GENERATIONS

Three small houses sit on the seven-acre property that Jerry and Chestenia
McGlone bought for their daughters in 1913.

At one time, neighbors say, a pack of cousins played there. Their fathers
and grandfathers were farmers and brick masons. Almost everyone in
Silvertown, a half-mile stretch of neighborhood carved out of farmland, was
kin.

But that was before.

Before some of the younger McGlone descendants began dealing crack at the
property, police and neighbors say. Before junked cars and a boarded-up shed
littered the yard. Before cars streamed in and out of Silvertown, and
late-night revelers knocked on neighbors' doors, asking for cash.

Now, the McGlone family may lose the land that has been handed down for five
generations.

The state has moved to seize the property under drug forfeiture laws, and
the case is awaiting trial. It is the first time the state has used the law
to seize real estate in Chesapeake.

For nearly a decade, court records show, police have fought the drug
activity at 2308 Silvertown Ave. They've run surveillance operations, made
undercover drug buys and used confidential informants. They've raided the
property, arrested suspects and convicted dealers.

But authorities say nothing has stopped the dealers.

"It's a last resort," said Deputy Commonwealth's Attorney Phyllis Patrick.
"We want to stop the drug activity and make it safe for everyone who lives
in that area."

There is little in the official record about the McGlone family or property.

A deed of sale shows they bought eight acres for $119.70 in 1913. Another
deed shows that Chestenia McGlone had died by the time the family sold one
acre in 1936. The death of Jerry McGlone was not recorded, and no will named
his heirs.

Legally, the land in Silvertown passed to the seven McGlone children. But
informally, said one McGlone descendant, the property was divvied up among
three of the McGlone girls and their families.

Each took a corner of the land. They built small, single-story homes, raised
their children, grew old and died there. Some of their children moved away.
Others stayed and raised their own families.

In this way, the land passed from one generation to the next.

Connie Foreman grew up in one of the three homes on the Silvertown
property - in the home her grandfather built more than half a century ago,
in the home where her mother was raised, where she is now raising three
children.

She is the great-granddaughter of Jerry and Chestenia McGlone and one of the
dozen McGlone descendants who still live on the Silvertown land.

She said in a recent interview at her home that she wasn't aware of any drug
trafficking on the property, and court records in Chesapeake show that she
has not been charged with any drug crimes.

She lives with her children and two brothers in the wooden home on the right
front corner. An uncle and cousin live to their left in the white home.
Behind them, in the green house, are another uncle and cousin and the
cousin's girlfriend and child.

"It's different now," Foreman said. "We're all grown up and there's not as
many kids here. But when we were little, it was a lot of fun. There was
always kids running around here."

There are a dozen homes scattered along Silvertown Avenue. Many have passed
down through generations. Most are run down, some are boarded up, a few look
as if they were abandoned years ago.

Older residents remember when the neighborhood was surrounded by acres of
farmland. They remember when it was a quiet, safe place.

Now, many of the farms in this rural section of Chesapeake east of Fentress
Naval Airfield have been parceled into lots of three acres or more and sold.
Homes worth as much as $400,000 have cropped up in their place.

And Silvertown, in stark contrast to its new neighbors, has been overrun by
a group of drug dealers, authorities say.

If Preston Lane had known, he said, he would never have built on a piece of
the old family farm on Land of Promise Road near Silvertown Avenue.

Lane, 50, knew some members of the McGlone clan. One worked on his father's
farm, and Lane remembers riding a tractor on the old man's knee.

But now, he said, some of the younger ones have turned the Silvertown
property into a crack den.

At its worst, he said, a crew of young men hung out in front of 2308
Silvertown and tried to sell drugs to anyone who drove by. He said a lookout
rode a bike up and down Land of Promise Road, keeping an eye out for police.
And as many as 60 cars drove in and out of Silvertown in an hour.

Lane said he has seen limos and Mercedes Benzes go in and emerge minutes
later. He said he has seen people stop on the corner of Silvertown Avenue
and Land of Promise Road and light their crack pipes. And he said people
have knocked on his door at 2 or 3 in the morning, asking for money.

He said police raids have driven the dealers inside and slowed the activity.
But, he said, it always picks up again.

"Everybody out here knows what's going on," Lane said. "I feel sorry for the
other people in Silvertown. There are still some good people there."

The first raid came Nov. 11, 1993. Court records show that police seized 12
grams of crack cocaine, drug paraphernalia, $100 in cash and two rifles, and
arrested three people.

But the raid had little effect, an affidavit states.

Neighbors continued to complain about drug traffic, loud music and people
stealing from their yards. Police continued to investigate, and on Sept. 13,
1996, they raided the property again.

This time, court records show, police seized $461 in cash, marijuana,
baggies with suspected cocaine residue and weapons, arrested two people and
issued felony warrants for five others.

For several months, the affidavit states, the busts seemed to work.

But in April 1997, neighbors began calling police again.

Traffic had picked up, the affidavit states. And in January 1998, it states,
someone called police to complain that the dealers were standing around
outside, waving guns and talking about who had the best dope.

"People who reside in the area are afraid for their children when they get
off the school bus," the affidavit states.

On Aug. 14, 1998, the state began the unusual process of trying to seize the
property. By law, the state can seize property used in illegal drug
activity.

Patrick, who is handling the case, said it is the only weapon the state
hasn't tried.

Even the threat of seizure hasn't stopped the dealers, she said.

A third raid came a week ago. Court records show that police found crack,
pipes, $365 in cash and a handgun. They arrested six people.

Patrick began the seizure process by sending letters to the descendants of
Jerry and Chestenia McGlone whose existence and whereabouts were known, and
publishing notices of the seizure in the Chesapeake Post.

Anyone believing they had a legal interest in the McGlone land had to
respond by Sept. 25, 1998 or risk forfeiting their interest.

Nine people responded. Three live at the property. One of them, Raymond
Cuffee Jr., was arrested in last week's raid and charged with possession of
cocaine with intent to distribute.

Cuffee's attorney, Stephen P. Givando, said last week that the distribution
portion of the charge is weak and that possession of cocaine alone does not
justify the extreme measure of taking a man's property.

Patrick said none of the respondents owns more than 1/28th of the property,
and some own less. The land is valued at $66,000.

Patrick believes three of the respondents are "innocent owners," meaning
they knew nothing about the drug activity at the Silvertown property and
that there is no reasonable expectation that they should have.

Other respondents, she said, knew or should have known.

"Basically, they were co-existing with the drug dealers, and that's what
concerns us," Patrick said. "It would be different if they had worked with
police to stop it. But how many phone calls have they made to police? None."

Patrick anticipates going to trial, but no date has been set. If she proves
her case, the McGlone descendants who live on the property will have 30 days
to remove their belongings and leave.

Then, the land and anything left on it will be auctioned. The money will be
used to cover the costs of the forfeiture, with the remainder divvied up
among innocent owners, the state and Chesapeake.

Foreman hangs on to the hope that she will somehow be able to keep her
family's home and a piece of the land. She talks about fixing it up and
making a future for her children there.

She stands in the doorway, the floor behind her warped with age, pictures
drawn by her 7-year-old daughter hanging on the wall and door. She surveys
the land around her, the junked cars and her cousins' homes.

"It may not look like much," she said. "But to me, it's home."