THERE'S AN EASY WAY TO STOP HEROIN DEATH

They are not mainly young white musicians in post-grunge-rock bands and
unkempt old black men living in the shadows of downtown Seattle. They are
predominantly white, most likely middle-aged and, more often than not,
employed. They die, as they have lived, in every King County neighborhood.

Their individual characteristics are quickly discerned but collectively,
the King County residents who died of heroin overdoses in 1998 represent an
enigma. Because of some unknown combination of factors that led to these
deaths, Seattle-King County has been elevated to an ignoble throne --
heroin capital of the country.

After a preliminary analysis of 1998 statistics, city-county health
officials this week attributed 138 deaths to heroin overdoses. A dozen more
suspected heroin deaths await confirmation from toxicology tests.

Considering the appalling lack of treatment available to people desperate
to kick the addiction, the more salient question is: Why haven't more died?
For up to 80 percent of the roughly 15,000 IV drug users in the county,
heroin is the drug of choice. Yet the county's capacity to dispense
methadone, the synthetic drug that curbs the cravings for heroin, is
limited to about 1,750 clients.

Even worse methadone treatment is available on site in just four counties
- -- King, Pierce, Yakima and Spokane. This means Skagit and Whatcom county
residents travel daily to Seattle to receive their maintenance dose of
methdaone while similar trips are made from Grays Harbor County to Tacoma.

Seldom do solutions, at least partial solutions, present themselves as
clearly as they do in this situation.

The remedy comes in two phases. First, the Legislature should approve
Senate Bill 5019, which would remove the cap of 350 clients for each
methadone clinic and give licensing authority to the state. The bill,
written by Sen. Julia Patterson, D-SeaTac, also would allow the state
Division of Alcohol and Substance Abuse to seek a waiver from the federal
government so individual physicians could dispense methadone to patients.

Preferably, it would be those who have been through the initial stages of
treatment, including counseling, and need only the daily doses and periodic
checkups.

(A hearing on SB5019 is slated for 1:30 p.m. today before the Senate Human
Services and Corrections Committee.)

Second, after the law is changed, Gov. Gary Locke should propose to the
2000 legislative session allocating more money to methadone treatment
itself. To be pragmatic, at less than $10 a day for the dose and companion
counseling and monitoring, the regimen is cost-effective because it keeps
people employed . . . and paying taxes.

The legislation has already drawn its share of detractors. For example, the
Washington Association of Counties is split over it. Some legislators in
some counties, including King, are loath to cede any control to the state.
But control over methadone clinics was bestowed on the counties only about
15 years ago because of the unproven fear that for-profit clinics would
cause problems. Currently there is one such facility in the state, in
Federal Way. Further, the state, not the counties, licenses all other
treatment clinics, whether for alcoholism or drugs other than heroin.

Parochialism isn't justified here, not when individual lives and society's
overall well-being are at stake. Some unknown number of people who
overdosed on heroin last year were on the waiting list for a chance to
rescue themselves.

For their parts, Seattle Mayor Paul Schell and King County Executive Ron
Sims have seen past any misgivings they might have about returning this
power to the state. The Metropolitan King County Council, which is debating
its position on SB5019, should join them.

Having been crowned with so disquieting a title, Seattle and King County
must do all they can to make the preferred treatment for heroin users
plentiful.

As New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani learned through a publicly
embarrassing lesson, methadone is the only answer. Six months after
declaring he wanted to end that city's methadone programs, the mayor
conceded he had been unrealistic.

His change of heart occurred after a "just say no" pilot project aimed at
abstinence resulted in 21 of 2,100 addicts giving up methadone, and five of
the 21 relapsing into heroin.