THEY HUFF AND PUFF IN CALIF. FIGHT OVER MEDICAL MARIJUANA

In the back room of an otherwise bland downtown building here, a dozen or
so men and women
lined up the other day to buy baked goods laced with marijuana.

The selection included ''Rice Crispy treats'' and chocolate chip
cookies. The sweets came in peanut butter flavor, too.

For those who prefer to smoke their supply, an even wider assortment
was available in plastic bags with labels like ''Indoor Special'' and
''Fruit Loops.'' Cannabis in pill form was also on sale.

The transactions were perfectly legal, according to the people who run
the Oakland Cannabis Buyers' Cooperative and the people with cancer,
AIDS, and chronic pain who shop there. They say Californians gave them
that right in November 1996 when they voted to become the only state
in the nation to allow medical patients to use marijuana with a
doctor's approval. But both buyers and sellers are edgy these days,
worried that the federal or state government will keep patients from
the one drug that they say prevents muscle spasms, eases their agony,
and helps them keep down food - and does so without negative side effects.

In test cases that are being monitored by marijuana advocates from
Maine to Alaska, the Oakland cooperative and a handful of others are
operating in violation of a federal court injunction. Their defiance
can be detected in the air: Although smoking is forbidden in the back
room known as the Bud Bar, the sticky-sweet smell of marijuana was so
strong it clung to clothing and hair. ''It is my medicine and it
allowed me to kick every other pharmaceutical unless I'm in serious,
serious pain,'' said Ken Estes, 40, who was paralyzed in a motorcycle
accident 22 years ago. He now grows marijuana for the Oakland
cooperative and teaches customers how to cultivate it in their
closets. ''I've sat in my wheelchair behind bars because of it. Well,
they can put me in jail again. I'm not going to quit.'' The outcome of
the California drug war could set a precedent, and advocates fear a
decision against them would discourage other states from pursuing
similar policies. The issue is on Oregon's November ballot, and is
likely to be voted on in Colorado and Washington state. Signature
drives in Maine, Alaska, and Nevada have yet to succeed, but the
effort to legalize medical marijuana there continues.

''Government opposition to medical marijuana, especially at the
federal level, is voracious,'' said Dave Fratello, a spokesman for the
Santa Monica-based Americans for Medical Rights, which pushed the
voter referendum formally known as Proposition 215.

The federal government says the sale or distribution of marijuana is
illegal under any circumstance. The Justice Department wants US
District Judge Charles Breyer to allow US marshals to padlock six
northern California clubs, which were caught selling marijuana to
patients without the requisite doctor's approval, and hold them in
contempt.

The state also opposes the clubs, which serve thousands of people,
saying that Proposition 215 permits only patients or their primary
caregivers to possess or cultivate marijuana.

So far, state Attorney General Dan Lungren has succeeded in putting
the largest club - the Cannabis Healing Center in San Francisco, with

about 8,000 members - out of business, at least temporarily. Police in
other cities have closed clubs too, after accusing them of selling
marijuana to nonpatients.

''It's not something we're against,'' said John Carrillo, an officer
with the San Jose Police Department, which shuttered a club and
arrested its operator. ''We're just making sure everyone is in
compliance with the law.'' Just the fear of arrest, however, is
forcing clubs underground as in the days before Proposition 215,
making an accurate count of their number difficult. Advocates
estimate, however, that the number of larger cannabis clubs has
plummeted in the past year, from a peak of 28 to fewer than a dozen.
Stephen Shefler, a first assistant US attorney in San Francisco, said
his agency is considering what action, if any, to take against the
clubs not named in the federal lawsuit.

''Originally we opposed Prop. 215; now we're calling for a rational
approach,'' said Matt Ross, Lungren's spokesman. ''A doctor can
recommend it, a patient can use and grow it based on that
recommendation, and should the patient not be able to do so, a primary
caregiver can provide it - the key word being primary caregiver.'' The
clubs counter that, by being part of cooperatives, members are pooling
resources to acquire marijuana as inexpensively and efficiently as
possible. Jeff W. Jones, the Oakland cooperative's executive director,
said a quarter-ounce of marijuana can cost patients $40 to $110,
depending on quality. That cost includes just enough to cover the
cooperative's overhead and the cost of the plants. That's slightly
below street value for 10 joints. ''Public opinion is way ahead of the
politicians,'' Jones said. ''It started as a movement with the people
and now it's accepted by some local governments. The next step is the
state and then we'll get the feds.'' In the meantime, club operators
say they want their day in court. Saying that voters already approved
medical marijuana once, they believe a jury is certain to see the need
for their distribution networks. But the federal case will be heard
only by Breyer, who has indicated in previous rulings that he is
likely to side with the government.

At the state level, Senator John Vasconcellos, whose May summit on
medical marijuana brought together advocates and opponents, is pushing
a bill that would authorize local governments to create their own
medical marijuana distribution systems. That bill recently failed in
committee but may come up again. Lungren and other elected officials
have endorsed a project at the University of California to research
the efficacy of medical marijuana, whose palliative effects are
promoted by many patients and doctors. Even the federal government
supplies marijuana to some patients under the so-called Compassionate
Investigative New Drug program. But the Bush administration closed
that program to newcomers in 1992 - advocates say it was because too
many AIDS patients were applying - and today it serves only eight
people, most of whom have glaucoma.

''People with AIDS and cancer need it now; we can't wait until the
research is concluded to fix this awful distribution system that has
grown up on an ad hoc basis,'' said Rand Martin, Vasconcellos' chief
of staff. ''The irony is that while President Clinton and his people
are pushing to close our clubs down, the movement is spreading
nationally. People want this.'' Yet even some cannabis club operators
say that their operations are no panacea. They want medical marijuana
to be reclassified as a prescription drug that can be grown legally
and sold in pharmacies. As Scott Imler, who heads the as yet
untargeted Los Angeles Cannabis Resource Center in West Hollywood, put
it: ''The minute the clubs aren't necessary anymore, I'll be the first
one to close. Who needs this stress?... I worry every day that we'll
be shut down.'' The same threat hangs over the Oakland cooperative,
open since July 1996 and serving 1,350 patients, ages 18 to 85. Now a

guard checks membership cards, and doctors' recommendations must be
updated yearly. To be extra cautious, the club will not provide
referrals to doctors known to support marijuana use; members must find
their own physicians. The precautions, Jones says, helped the club
spot an undercover officer who was attempting to buy drugs - an
unmasking captured on videotape.

The Bud Bar where marijuana is stored and cuttings are sold is
off-limits to minors and monitored by another guard. On a recent day,
in the course of an hour a dozen or more patients came and went, many
shockingly thin, none giddy from a drug high. Marijuana, they said,
offers relief rather than euphoria. ''My legs used to jump all over
the place,'' said Yvonne Westbrook, 45, who has multiple sclerosis.
''The doctor prescribed valium, but I couldn't function. With a few
puffs of marijuana, I'm just fine. My doctor understands this.'' The
city council in Oakland, where Jerry Brown is the mayor-elect, has
indicated it understands, too. Recently it voted to allow patients to
store 1.5 pounds of marijuana - a three-month supply far larger than
the state allows. The new policy also instructs Oakland officers to
treat medical-marijuana growers as a low priority for enforcement and
gives individuals two days to provide proof that their marijuana is
for medical use. ''We want to conserve cop time and, at the same time,
we don't want to harass cancer and AIDS patients,'' said Mike
Nisperos, public safety liaison for the Oakland city manager. ''If
this makes you stop retching, if it makes you feel less sick, we're
saying go ahead. You're not hurting anybody.''

Checked-by: "Rich O'Grady"