BACK FROM THE ABYSS

Two years ago, Ramona Williams began a long battle to reclaim her life after
years of addiction to crack cocaine

Copyright 1998 Houston Chronicle

RAMONA WILLIAMS lives in a townhouse, a neat working-class home demurely
furnished in floral prints.

Children's books line the bookshelves, and a framed photograph of a winsome,
dark-haired toddler with President Bush hangs on a wall.

As Williams dishes up pork chops and cornbread, her children compete for the
attention of visitors, showing off their cartwheels and performing Sunday
school songs.

It's hard to imagine that two years ago, Williams and her family were
trapped in the miserable underworld of crack cocaine addiction.

Hard to imagine that she woke up one morning to find her two toddlers eating
raw eggs on the floor because she had traded her food stamps for crack.

Hard to imagine that her then 4-year-old daughter was repeatedly
propositioned for sex by addicts who streamed through the house.

Hard to imagine that the photograph of Bush with Williams' daughter Carmen,
now 3, was taken during the 18 months they lived at a homeless shelter while
Williams battled to reclaim her life.

Conventional wisdom says drug addicts -- especially poor urban black
women -- will be junkies and losers all their lives. They will never pay
taxes, never contribute to society, never hold a job. They will birth but
not raise children, who in turn will become prison fodder and addicts
themselves.

But sometimes they fight back. And drawing on an array of resources, from
rehabilitation programs to outpatient counseling to housing programs, they
rebuild themselves and their families.

Today, Williams works as a troubleshooter for a computer company. Her mother
tends to her five younger children while Williams works. Willie, 7, and
Rochelle, 6, spent a week at camp this summer. They have come miles since
the days when the two would hide under the bed if someone came to the door,
knowing a drug party was inevitable.

This journey has not been easy, Williams said.

Drug rehabilitation never is.

Mel Taylor, executive director of the Council on Alcohol and Drug Abuse,
urges people to view chemical dependency as "a disease with a behavioral
component, like diabetes or hypertension."

The key to controlling this behavior, Taylor said, is a program that
addresses not just the addiction but factors that led to it. Related
problems of employment, housing, family and personal support must be dealt
with.

"Show me a recovering addict who isn't working on family, legal, employment,
psychosocial and self-esteem issues, and I'll show you someone who will
relapse," Taylor said. "The word of the '90s is collaboration. Support
services must network with each other to provide a comprehensive recovery
program, because that's the only way people will really become independent."

Current research, such as that conducted by Tom McClellan at the University
of Pennsylvania, suggests determining factors in successful rehabilitation
are not the length of the program or the type of facility, but the quality
of counselors and willingness to address related problems.

AMONA WILLIAMS did not seem a likely drug abuse candidate, if there is such
a thing. The third of four children and the youngest daughter of
churchgoing, working-class parents, she was a fine student and worked after
school in the family's cleaning service.

But Williams chafed against the sedate existence. In the 11th grade, she
abruptly left home. A year later her parents found her, pregnant and living
with an older man. Her eldest son was born when she was 18. Her parents have
raised him since birth and asked that his name not be used in this article.

Williams married, then left her husband. At 21, she moved in with her
parents to help raise her toddler son. Soon she was hanging out with one of
the neighborhood guys. He was a drug dealer, specializing in something just
hitting the streets of urban America: crack cocaine.

It was 1984. Most Americans had yet to hear about the devastation being
wrought by crack in urban centers. A distilled form of cocaine boiled with
baking soda until it separates into rocks which are cut up and smoked, crack
is 85-90 percent pure cocaine -- a higher concentration than is found in
cocaine powder. Crack creates an immediate high that lasts 12 minutes at
most. Severe depression follows. Addiction is almost instant.

Perhaps most dangerously, crack is cheap. Impoverished urban dwellers, who
make up the bulk of crack consumers, can buy a hit for $5-$10.

From smoking crack, Williams turned to dealing. She hung out in crack
houses, trading sex for drugs. She went through a string of men and gave
birth to five more children in rapid succession: Willie in 1990, Rochelle in
1991, Gary in 1993, Carmen in 1994, Roshan in 1996. All of the children
tested positive at birth for cocaine and syphilis.

Roshan's birth was Williams' overdue wake-up call.

Recently, with the 24-month-old sleeping peacefully in her lap, she says, "I
told myself I can't keep having babies on crack and syphilis, using my
parents. If Roshan hadn't been sick, I'd still be using drugs." The baby
suffered severe complications from Williams' drug use. She stopped breathing
shortly after birth, and still is subject to seizures.

Child Protective Services intervened and gave Williams an ultimatum:
Rehabilitate or lose your children.

Williams complied and went into treatment at Houston Recovery Center for
four weeks. From there she was placed at Star of Hope Transitional Living
Center, a homeless shelter on Ardmore in southeast Houston.

Williams went through rehabilitation while she was at Star of Hope, a second
try. She relapsed from her first attempt, before Willie's birth, shortly
after her release. When she went to Star of Hope in 1996, just weeks after
Roshan was born, she was ready to work at recovery.

"She had the will to recover," said Patrick Asuquo, director of the New Hope
drug treatment program at Star of Hope. "That's a good foundation to start
building on: commitment and force of will."

Asuquo designed the New Hope program and has directed it for four years. He
claims an 80 percent success rate, much better than the 50 percent most
other programs post. The keys to the New Hope success are its holistic
nature and recognizing the client is an individual, Asuquo said.

When a client enters New Hope, a counselor helps tailor a treatment program.
New Hope provides drug treatment and education and helps clients get job
training, GED training, spiritual counsel and therapy for themselves and
their children as needed.

"We acknowledge the individuality of a client's circumstances," Asuquo said.
"They come from different places and different cultures, so we cannot
successfully treat them if we are thinking of them as copies of each other."

While in the three-month program, clients attend class five days a week from
8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. Some evening classes are also required.

"We start with the definition of addiction and the factors that contribute
to it," Asuquo said. Classes also stress the physiological impact of drugs
on the body.

But it is the emotional and psychological aspects of drug abuse that get the
most attention.

"They are taught to identify and express feelings appropriately. Many of
them are very angry about things that have happened to them, and it has
turned self-destructive. They must understand there will be people who won't
agree with them, and learn to respect differences without breaking down or
lashing out," Asuquo said.

"They have to learn how to cope with life without the aid of drugs. They
have to learn when to make amends with their families and when to leave it
alone. And they have to learn about patience, because the family may not be
ready to forgive."

Williams' younger children were still small enough to forgive, but her
oldest son, by then 15, was still wary. "He had seen her go through rehab
before, and it didn't take, so he doesn't trust it," said Williams' mother.
The teen continues to live with his grandparents, who have legal custody of
him.

Co-dependency must also be addressed, Asuquo said.

Williams' parents had unknowingly supported their daughter's drug habit for
years. From the time of her first son's birth until she moved to Star of
Hope, they paid for every apartment Williams lived in.

"I know it wasn't the right thing to do, that it enabled her to do wrong. If
we'd walked away earlier maybe it would have ended sooner. And to bring kids
into the world like this -- I know that was wrong. But I couldn't walk away
from it because of the kids," Williams' mother said.

But her parents' enabling behavior had a crippling effect on Williams

"The first few weeks Ramona had difficulty adjusting," Asuquo said. "I told
her, `You're a very intelligent woman, but you've had a family that's
enabled you all your life. But now you're here and I'm looking at you as a
person who is able to be independent.' "

After that, she excelled.

Education is an important element of rehab, Asuquo said, not only to get
people into the job market, but also to build confidence and a sense of
accomplishment.

"If you have something you've never had before, you won't want to lose it,"
Asuquo said. Since many of his clients come without a high school diploma,
they are encouraged to get their GED. Williams passed her GED despite having
to miss many classes when she and five of the children got chicken pox.

New Hope also stresses developing life skills, such as being on time and
completing assignments.

"I require punctuality. If class starts at 8:30, it starts at 8:30, not 8:31
or 8:32. It sounds trivial, but we are changing behavior patterns here. If
you can't get here from your apartment 100 yards away, how will you get to a
job on time?" Asuquo said.

Boredom is also a problem. Williams calls it "the worst enemy."

Asuquo takes his students on field trips and lets them work puzzles and take
walks. "You have to learn how to have recreation without drugs, because as
an addict, all your fun revolves around drugs," Williams said.

And clients must realize what they lost in their addiction.

For Williams, confronting that was painful.

"I realized I had five responsibilities (children). I hadn't ever seen them
without being high, and there was some bad damage."

Willie ducked every time she gestured, fearful she was moving to hit him.
She was repeatedly wakened by Shelly's nightmares of being sexually
assaulted less than a year before.

While Shelly was withdrawn and quiet, Willie was so overcome with guilt over
Shelly's abuse "he just let people walk all over him," said Natalye
Henderson, director of children's activities at Star of Hope.

Gary, barely 3, was given to temper tantrums. He seldom responded when
called, leading people to believe he was retarded or willfully disobedient.
A checkup revealed he had fluid in his ears and treatment brought immediate
improvement.

While the children loved Star of Hope they also were distrustful, Williams
said.

"They were so scared, asking questions about do people here get high or do
they drink. Even soda cans they'd look at crazy, `What's she drinking,
what's in that can?' " Williams recalled.

Then, said Williams, came the tougher questions. "They asked, `Why weren't
we living like this before?' For the first four months it was `Remember when
you did this?' I wanted them to stop, but I had to go through it with them.
I had to apologize to them," she said.

After completing the New Hope program, Williams stayed at the shelter
another year, finishing computer training at DSU, a vocational school, and
starting her job training at the computer firm.

Another vital aspect of rehabilitation, Asuquo said, is treatment of the
family.

"Too often, traditional treatment programs take the afflicted person out of
their environment, treat them, and then put them right back into the old
family dynamics. The entire family needs treatment for living with an
addict, and the addict must understand how they fit into the family before
and after treatment."

When Williams moved from the shelter last February, she had been clean for
18 months. While living in the shelter helped cocoon her when most
vulnerable for relapse during the first six months after treatment, it was
her willingness to draw support from several venues that has made her a
success.

Williams continues to attend weekly support classes in the New Hope program
and meets regularly with her drug counselor at the Haltlands, a drug
treatment program under the auspices of Volunteers of America.

Seeing other women come in directly from detox inspires her, she said.

"It helps you stay clean when you see the new girls coming in and some of
them still got the shakes from it. You know you don't want to go back," she
said.

Other support services aided Williams as she moved toward independence.
Through Volunteers of America, which provides housing subsidies in the
private sector, Williams' rent was reduced from $715 monthly to a manageable
$195. When she moved, Star of Hope's follow-up program took her to the
furniture bank and provided her with the basic amenities for a home. The
program also helps with school supplies and uniforms, rent and food, and
transportation to job interviews.

Shona Cole, Williams' case manager for her 18 months at Star of Hope,
credits Williams' success to her "staying power."

"She recognized she needed the system to be successful," Cole said. "A lot
of others, as soon as they get their health back and their feet on the
ground, they're gone. But they're not really ready to go the distance. The
bottom line is, they can't do it by themselves."

Williams is also involved with the Cradles program of the Council for
Alcohol and Drug Abuse. The program identifies drug-addicted infants at
birth and offers services to the mother.

"We go twice a month and look at the mom's problems across the board --
money, transportation, health -- but the baby is our major client, and we're
trying to make sure she is developmentally where she should be," said
Jacquelyn Edwards, the Cradles administrator.

Cradles also helps clients develop an assistance network, something that
helped when Williams realized Roshan was having difficulty learning to
speak. Williams called Cradles, which contacted other agencies. A speech
therapist now works with Roshan every week at no cost to Williams.

On Roshan's second birthday Aug. 31, Williams will celebrate two years of
sobriety.

The key, Williams said, is to keep on keeping on.

"People say, `How do you do it?' like it's a trick or something. No, you
just take care of your business. ... I don't crave the drugs anymore. But I
keep on working my steps, every day. I only keep positive people around. I
don't stay in touch with the people who are still using."

And every day, she said, the problems of the past sink deeper and deeper
into history.

"Roshan won't remember anything. For Gary and Carmen, the amount of time
they've spent here is the same amount they spent around drugs."

HE CHILDREN APPEAR to have responded enthusiastically to their new
environment. They have been shooed upstairs by their grandmother, but
occasionally come down to put on a show.

Willie sings a rap song with explicit lyrics, earning a rebuke from his
mother: "That's ugly, Willie. We don't sing those words in this house." He
switches to a Sunday school song about heaven. Shelly dances to the tune,
moving with a fluidity rare for her age.

Carmen and Gary try to mimic their elder brother and sister. Carmen, at 3,
has never conceded her place as baby of the family. While Roshan is 22
months younger, it is Carmen with her dark curls and big dimples who earns
the lion's share of attention and praise from her brothers and sister. The
precocious youngster recites the Lord's Prayer to family applause.

"I want to live here for a hundred years," Shelly says softly. "It has
stairs and a bathroom. I liked Star of Hope, too, because we got to go on
trips."

Williams has specific concerns for each of the children living with her.

"I worry about Willie because he's just like I was, always wants to be the
class clown, get all that attention, be popular," she says. "And I worry
about Shelly because of the sexual abuse, because sometimes those people
realize they have that sexual power and then they know how to use it. And I
worry about Carmen because she's too friendly. Carmen is everybody's friend.
She's never met a stranger. And I worry about Gary because he's Gary."

Her mother laughs. Gary's dreaminess is a family joke.

Through it all, Williams said, the thread of continuity in her life is
prayer.

"Prayer and guidance get me through. Nothing is as hard with God by my side.
I pray for knowledge, for tolerance and guidance.

"You take it day to day. But life is good."

Checked-by: Rolf Ernst