A REGION MENACED BY DRUG USE

Cheap heroin finds fertile market in problem-plagued city, spills into suburbs

Heroin dealers bag a 'break' Dealing with it: City fights back with busts,
tests, treatment

Editor's Note

Series aims to gauge extent of problem, enlist readers' help

New Bedford appears to be on the brink of a dramatic rebound. Tourism is
up. Ambitious building projects are headed toward construction downtown.
Crime, as measured by statistics, is abating. Streets seem safer and cleaner.

But along with progress, the drug problem clings to New Bedford and the
region like a low-grade fever, distorting the city's image, sapping
strength from its neighborhoods and undermining its economic health.

Arguments abound as to the degree of the menace: whether to punish or treat
the addicted, whether the police and the courts are effective, whether
methadone is a good idea.

Despite the chronic nature of the problem, little consensus has developed
over the years on the best way to forge a solution. Meanwhile, more drugs
are sold and consumed, more lives are lost and more opportunities are
wasted, especially now as cheaper, more potent grades of heroin flood the
market.

Perhaps an agreement might be reached if enough facts can be brought to
bear through a comprehensive, up-to-date, community-involved examination of
the problem.

That's what The Standard-Times is attempting to do, starting this morning,
in a series that will continue at irregular intervals over the weeks and
months ahead.

Our plan in "Rush to Nowhere" is to explore all aspects of the problem --
from the dealing on and off the city's streets, to the suburban addicts, to
the intricacies of the criminal justice system.

Critical to the success of the series is you, the reader. We will be
turning to you for comments and suggestions.

Working together, perhaps we can make a difference in our community. So
call and/or write.

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By Polly Saltonstall, Standard-Times staff writer

The brand names rubber stamped by dealers on the small wax-paper packages
get right to the point: "Suicide," "Death Row," "The Bomb," "Brain Storm."

Heroin remains king of the illegal drug trade in New Bedford. Its traces
are hard to miss: used needles and ripped and empty heroin packets
discarded like losing lottery tickets in empty lots and alleys; vacant-eyed
streetwalkers trolling a dimly lit North End street, hoping to earn enough
for a fix for themselves and their boyfriends; young men loitering by pay
phones in freezing weather after midnight waiting for a customer to call.

"It's like a Domino's delivery system," says Lt. Melvin Wotton, chief of
New Bedford's vice squad.

But the problem isn't just heroin and it isn't confined to New Bedford.

Heroin, cocaine, marijuana and other illegal narcotics flow through the
entire SouthCoast region, spawning and perpetuating an array of social and
economic problems, jeopardizing and in some cases devastating
neighborhoods, ravaging families and undercutting the best efforts of
educators.

Some observers fear the falling price of heroin, now cheaper than marijuana
or cocaine, and the increased purity of the drug could make matters worse.
The dealers and addicts are getting younger, and occasional users, who
might once have spurned heroin because of its junkie image, have started
snorting the powerful painkiller, authorities say.

"We're seeing higher and higher purity levels in the area," says Pamela
Mersky Hayes, a special agent in the Boston office of the U.S. Drug
Enforcement Administration, which has announced plans to post two agents at
a new office in New Bedford. "Because there is so much heroin around and
because it is so cheap, we're seeing a lot of people using it."

The numbers paint a stark picture of a city and region under siege,
particularly from heroin: More than 4 percent of all the cases transported
to hospitals by St. Luke's Hospital paramedics last year in New Bedford,
Fairhaven, Mattapoisett, Acushnet and Rochester were suffering from drug
overdoses -- a high number considering most overdose victims refuse
transport, paramedics say.

Heroin seizures by New Bedford police increased by 40 percent between 1995
and 1998. Police seized 355 grams of heroin last year, more than twice as
many heroin seizures as other cities of comparable size, including Lowell
and Fall River.

Some 1,768 New Bedford residents receiving drug treatment in 1998 said they
had used heroin, a 40 percent increase over the previous year. The
percentage of city residents in treatment who admit having used heroin is
among the highest in the state and almost double the state average,
according to the Bureau of Substance Abuse Services. Because the state
tracks admissions to drug treatment facilities, some individuals may be
counted more than once. But these are just the people seeking help. The
bureau estimates that only about a third of the people using alcohol and/or
drugs seek treatment.

The number of admitted heroin users seeking treatment in Fall River and New
Bedford jumped from 1,575 in 1992 to 3,786 in 1998, according to the bureau.

The state Bureau of Substance Abuse services estimates 6.2 percent of the
Southeastern region's population suffer from some kind of addiction.

The suburbs are not immune. For example, last year 23 Marion residents
admitted for drug treatment had used heroin, so had 102 Wareham residents
and 54 Dartmouth residents -- almost double the number of admissions in
each town the previous year.

Statistics point to a regional, not just an urban, problem. In 1998, at
least 1,616 admissions to substance abuse treatment programs in the state
came from suburban towns outside Fall River and New Bedford, according to
the Bureau of Substance Abuse Services.

The death rate from alcohol and substance abuse in the region is more than
22 people per 100,000 compared to 16 statewide. In 1995, close to 2.4
percent of deaths in the region were due to alcohol and/or drug use, while
another 2.3 percent were due to AIDS. Some 35 Bristol County residents died
as a result of heroin use in 1998, according to the Office of the Chief
Medical Examiner. Cocaine use contributed to 16 deaths, either in
connection with heroin or alcohol or alone.

While New Bedford's drug problem appears to rank among the state's worst,
what really counts is not rank but local impact, observers say.

People who might otherwise be productive builders of the economy are not
making a contribution. Local employers tell stories of high numbers of job
applicants failing drug tests. At the AT&T customer center in Fairhaven,
for example, 7.5 percent of job applicants between September and December
last year failed a drug test -- double what the company sees in other parts
of the country, said spokesman Gary Morganstern.

City officials agree New Bedford's image has hurt efforts to develop the
city's economy.

"Drugs as they are in New Bedford are like a cancer. It only thrives when
the host is weakened -- socially, educationally, economically -- and the
infrastructure in New Bedford has been weakened," says Mayor Frederick M.
Kalisz Jr.

"We're in a situation right now of trying to create positive self-esteem
among individuals, of trying to create meaningful employment, and we're
doing that through economic development."

Drug use has fractured area families and resulted in growing numbers of
child custody cases. Randy Whittle, regional director of the New Bedford
office of the Department of Social Services, estimates more than 60 percent
of the cases handled by his office involve some kind of drug abuse.

"The proliferation and availability of drugs in the community has had a
serious impact," he says. "So many of our cases now involve more multiple
problems and potentially dangerous situations for children."

Bristol County District Attorney Paul Walsh says drugs account for close to
80 percent of the crimes prosecuted by his office, either because of direct
possession, committing a crime while under the influence or committing a
crime to get money for drugs.

Meanwhile, drug cases are clogging the county's court system. In 1998,
about 13 percent of all Third District Court cases involved narcotics
charges, the fourth highest number of any court system in the state, behind
Springfield, Worcester and Roxbury.

Drug problems drive health costs higher.

A survey of about 200 intravenous drug users conducted last year in New
Bedford for the Department of Public Health found 29 percent tested
positive for HIV.

The SouthCoast region has one of the highest infection rates in the state
for HIV/AIDS. And the age-adjusted death rate for HIV/AIDS is twice the
national average, according to a 1997 SouthCoast Hospital Community Health
Assessment study.

Deadly hepatitis C is emerging as the newest infection transmitted by
shared needles.

Last year out of 3,498 women who gave birth at SouthCoast Hospitals, 20
were addicted to heroin or methadone. Detoxing those babies required
keeping them in the hospital for up to five months, said Debbie Raposo,
director of women's and children's health at St. Luke's. Another 92 heroin
addicts were detoxed and gave birth at the Stanley Street Resource Center
in Fall River.

The emergency rooms at St. Luke's in New Bedford and Charleton in Fall
River tracked drug-related admissions for The Standard-Times during a
five-day period early in January. During that time, each emergency room
handled at least three drug-related cases a day, including three overdoses
at Charlton and another three at St. Luke's. Some of the admissions involve
HIV complications in patients who contracted the infection either directly
or indirectly through drug use, medical personnel said.

Heroin overdoses come in waves, often coinciding with the arrival of
fishing boats in port, with paychecks and the arrival of potent new batches
of the drug, says St. Luke's paramedic Brenden Hayden. Last year out of a
total of 2,019 emergency cases taken to the hospital, 85 involved drug
overdoses.

Heroin overdoses can be treated on the spot with a drug called Naloxone,
which almost instantly reverses the symptoms. Once revived, most overdose
victims refuse transport to the hospital or just plain run away from the
scene, Mr. Hayden said.

Last year 116 people refused transport. Mr. Hayden and fellow paramedic
Debra Downey estimate that at least a quarter of those cases involved
overdoses.

"We only see the addicts who do something wrong," Ms. Downey said. "When
you see this many people who do it wrong, that's significant."

Drugs also have contributed to a growing problem of homelessness. A 1996
survey of New Bedford shelters found close to 37 percent of the people
seeking shelter attributed their homelessness to drinking and/or drugs.

New Bedford's addiction problems have not gone unnoticed. The U.S. Drug
Enforcement Administration has announced plans to open a full-time office
here.

Two for-profit methadone companies, seeing a growing market for their
services, have opened or bought clinics in the area.

The number of people going to methadone clinics in the Southcoast region
has gone from just over 900 in 1997 to 1,425 two years later. The number of
clinics has grown from two to five.

And while the suburbs may feel insulated, substance abuse counselors and
police tell a different story. When counselors from St. Anne's Lifeline
methadone clinic visited a suburban school outside Fall River recently,
they were shocked to hear 13 and 14-year-old children who knew where to get
heroin and knew people who used it, says Lifeline Director Lisa Garcia.

If the drug problem is mostly out of sight in the suburbs, its presence can
be conspicuous on streets in city neighborhoods.

The battle for community

The most poignant stories about the devastation wrought by drugs come from
the people who have seen the life sapped from their neighborhoods and
responded by vowing to fight back.

"This is not going to take me out. I'm going to take them out," says
Bullard Street resident Frances Sabino. The feisty, outspoken Ms. Sabino
helped start a neighborhood association in her community three years ago.

Residents like Ms. Sabino and their neighborhood associations represent one
of the city's best weapons against drugs, says New Bedford Police Chief
Arthur Kelly.

"The strength of any city is its neighborhoods and the people who live in
them," he said.

The Bullard Street Association has successfully lobbied for 24-hour police
coverage and just last week the city upped the wattage in street lights and
installed new floodlights on North Front Street to discourage illegal
activity. The city also plans to clean up unsightly buildings, remove trash
and, through the licensing process, crack down on bars and liquor stores.
"This an example of what happens when people get active," Mayor Kalisz told
about 100 people at a recent neighborhood association meeting.

Residents cheered, but some still were skeptical.

Born and raised on Bullard Street, June Voisine now lives a few blocks away
on Holly Street.

"There's open and blatant drug transactions and prostitution taking place
out there," she told the mayor. "Anyone can see it. There's cars pulling up
and horns honking at all times of the day. I'm getting sick of this and am
thinking of moving out of the city."

Ralph Deneault left the neighborhood about two years ago for Fairhaven.

"It's a shame. I always liked New Bedford," he said. "Now I can see it's on
the rebound, but ..."

As his voice trailed off, the mayor quickly promised, "That was then, this
is now."

On the other side of town, members of the South Central Neighborhood
Association understand the battle only too well.

The association recently held a candlelight vigil to encourage residents to
fight back instead of staying inside behind locked doors. Only 50 people
showed up. But Joseph Andrade, a community organizer for Catholic Social
Services, called the event an important first step.

As police cars slowly led the marchers, sirens wailing and blue lights
flashing, curious residents watched silently.

"Just seeing the people who opened their doors and looked out as we walked
by was a big thing," Mr. Andrade says. "It might be little, but it's a start."

A major complication faced by those who would fight to stave off drugs is
the way the drug scene constantly changes. One big variable is price.

Once $20 a bag, heroin can now be bought in New Bedford and Fall River for
as little as $5-$10, making it a cheaper high than either cocaine or
marijuana.

Adding to the bang for an addict's buck is an increase in the purity of
heroin from as low as 7 percent a decade ago to as high as 90 percent
today, according to the state drug lab.

Heroin seized in New Bedford last December, for example, ranged in purity
from 42 percent to 84 percent, according to drug lab reports. Much of the
heroin making its way up the New England coast comes from South America and
Southeast Asia.

An opium derivative, heroin is usually injected, sniffed or smoked.
Intravenous injection provides the greatest intensity or "rush" and most
rapid onset of euphoria (7 to 8 seconds). Sniffing the drug provides peak
effects within 10 to 15 minutes.

Brian Silvester, southeastern regional head of the Bureau of Substance
Abuse Services, says his agency has noticed a trend of younger people
starting to use heroin in this way.

"They report snorting it, not using it intravenously, because they feel
that's a safe way. But then what normally happens is that as they continue
to use, to start shooting up," he said. "It becomes unreal when they
describe something they perceive as the norm and you wonder how can that
be. It's sad and scary at the same time."

The higher purity levels have made the drugs more addictive and the
detoxification of addicts more difficult, says Nancy Paull, executive
director of the Stanley Street Treatment Resource in Fall River. Stanley
Street runs a residential drug detoxification program.

Police blame the influx of cheap drugs on New Bedford's location on the
pipeline between New York, Providence and Boston. The drugs and the people
who sell them flow with traffic on the area's major transportation routes,
they argue.

Addicts and many in the treatment community say the causes are more
complex. They cite the city's high unemployment and poverty rates, as well
as racism.

The city was a prime target for dealers back in the 1970s with its
waterfront and fishermen accustomed to coming ashore with large amounts of
cash and the desire to party. Once the drug culture took hold, poverty,
racial tension and a sense of hopelessness among many of the city's
low-income residents perpetuated the problem.

"People have gotten to the point where they don't care about themselves,"
said Gerald Ribeiro, a former heroin addict who helped start the outreach
organization Treatment on Demand.

Heroin, outreach workers point out, is the medical world's most powerful
painkiller.

In a decade of working with addicts in several East Coast cities, nurse
Sharon Morello says she has never seen a drug population suffering from as
many social problems as in New Bedford.

Close to 17 percent of the city's residents live below the poverty level,
compared to 9 percent statewide. The city's 6.6 percent unemployment rate
is more than triple the state average.

A survey conducted by Southcoast hospitals found 24 percent of all New
Bedford respondents, and 44 percent of those living below the poverty
level, had experienced bouts of depression lasting two years or longer.

"They do not have a single thing going for them," says Ms. Morello, nurse
manager at the Center for Health and Human Service's Gifford Street
methadone clinic. "When they tell me about their lives, I say to myself, no
wonder they are using substances. They live horrible lives."

Many addicts have no stable family life, no jobs; they live in dirty,
cockroach-infested apartments.

Ms. Morello cites as an example a young patient with such low self-esteem
that she prostituted herself for $4.

Kym Barboza-Owens, formerly an outreach coordinator for Treatment on
Demand, now runs the Women's Collaborative Project at the YWCA of
Southeastern Massachusetts. She helped organize a survey of IV drug users
in New Bedford last winter for the Bureau of Public Health. The results,
not surprisingly, found people were less likely to use drugs if they had jobs.

"If you're busy, you're functioning in society and you have less need to
medicate yourself," she says. "There's a big tie-in between people feeling
valueless in society and how they treat themselves."

Social breakdown creates a widening pool of potential addicts and dealers.
The official numbers don't yet support it, but there's reason to believe
that the problem is reaching down to an ever-younger clientele. Younger users

While police and judges still say that most of the juveniles charged with
drug-related crimes in the region are using marijuana, current and
recovering addicts say the age of both heroin users and dealers has
dropped. One young heroin addict recently celebrated his 16th birthday at
the Stanley Street detox center.

"It's the easiest drug to get. It's the drug of the 1990s," says one
20-year-old who started using when he was 15 and was shooting up to 40 bags
a day before checking in for detox last winter. "I know 13 and 14-year-olds
who are shooting up heroin now."

During the first week in January, the emergency room staff at Charlton
treated a 17-year-old girl for heroin withdrawal, and an 18-year-old teen
reporting difficulties with her pregnancy because of drug use.

One 23-year-old Fall River man detoxing from heroin at Stanley Street says
he started using when he was 15.

"It's all I know," he says. "It's a lifestyle."

Wearing athletic shorts and bulky running shoes and nervously pumping his
arms, he described a habit so strong he had to shoot 10 bags of heroin just
to get up, brush his teeth and take a shower. While this is his third
attempt at detoxing, he vows he's serious about it this time.

"I'm hanging my shirt in the rafters. I'm not letting this drug take any
more of my life."

Ms. Paull says the chance of this young man staying off heroin are slim.
Despite growing numbers of people seeking treatment for addictions,
including heroin, the rate of relapse is high.

"People don't do it once and get better," says Ms. Paull. "Substance abuse
is a disease of relapse."

Another recovering addict, a 29-year-old man, stares ahead for a second
when asked about his chances of beating his habit for good.

"Slim to none, and slim just left town."

He quickly explains that he wants to stay clean but has nowhere to go
except his old neighborhood and friends. He can't go home because his
grandmother kicked him out after he stole from her to support his habit.

It's his first day in detox, and as he talks, his thin arms start to shake
slightly and his jaw clenches.

"I'm getting a little agitated," he says.

High school students participating in a focus group organized by the
SouthCoast Hospital Group said drugs and alcohol were easy to get. They
told the group facilitator that youngsters today don't know how to have fun
unless drugs or alcohol are involved.

"Everybody drinks and does drugs of some kind," says one student.

"If you ain't pregnant, you're hooked on drugs, hooked on partying," says
another.

Once arrested, young offenders can be marked for life.

Teens who commit crimes while under the age of 18 still end up with
records, said Joshua Wiley, who works at the Cape Verdean Band Club in the
South End.

"There has to be a way if you make a mistake in life that it isn't so
difficult to overcome it," he said during a recent meeting of the South
Central Neighborhood Association. "If you can show people hope that they
can get a job, then they will. But we automatically cast them (as
criminals) before we give them a chance to prove their worth."

Mr. Wiley and 24-year-old Dana Carmo attended the meeting with several
other colleagues to complain that police harassed them simply because of
the way they looked.

"Who decides who's bad and who's good?" asks Mr. Carmo, slouched back in a
metal folding chair. He was wearing baggy jeans, a baseball cap perched
backwards on his nearly shaved head, and gold studs in his ears.

"It should not matter what my past record is. That does not define me. What
should count is what I do now," says Mr. Carmo, who works as a deejay at
the Cape Verdean Band Club.

Young adults say they are driven to drugs by stress as well as peer
pressure. Often the neighborhood role models are the local dealers.

"A lot of kids want to be like other kids. That's what happened to me,"
says 24-year-old Orlando Monteiro, who developed a daily marijuana habit
before turning his life around at YouthBuild, a New Bedford urban renewal
group.

"There's a lot of pressure at home and you can get rid of stress by doing
drugs," added Junny Rivera, 19, who also participates in YouthBuild.
Tomorrow: Drugs in the suburbs and Fall River

Readers contribute Do you have a story to tell, a suggestion or information
to contribute to our series of stories on drugs in the SouthCoast region?

Staff writer Polly Saltonstall can be reached by telephone at 979-4446, by
e-mail at psaltonstall@s-t.com or by mail at The Standard-Times, 25 Elm
St., New Bedford, MA 02740.