ONE OF THE FEW VOICES MAKING SENSE ON THE DRUG-CLINIC ISSUE IS A
32-YEAR-OLD MORPHINE ADDICT WHO JUST WANTS TO STAY CLEAN

It takes the honesty of a 32-year-old morphine addict named Jim to
make sense of it all.

In just a few minutes standing outside the soon-to-close Braeside
methadone clinic, Jim clarifies what politicians, lawyers and doctors
have clouded with fear and anger.

For Jim, there are only facts: He alternates down-to-earth
observations with long drags off a home-rolled cigarette.

Like his cigarette, his wisdom is basic and to-the-point.

"I think it's all ridiculous," says Jim. "People obviously don't
realize that most of the people who come to this clinic are totally
clean from drugs and using and so forth."

If he wasn't smoking on the steps of the clinic, you'd never guess
Jim was a morphine addict, clean for seven months -- he's healthy,
tanned and dressed for work.

Only a few metres away, blue-collar workers dressed much the same buy
Slurpees and chips from the convenience store.

Jim's here for the methadone, and though it's a long bus ride into
southwest Calgary, he says a quiet community is better for recovering addicts.

"It's good that it's a hard place to get to -- the clinic they had
downtown was surrounded by dealers asking if you're looking for dope,
while you're on the way to get methadone," he laughs.

He also chuckles at the image of the twitching, desperate addict
looking for a free fix at the clinic -- Jim says most people on a
methadone program are sober, with homes, jobs and a motivation to
stay straight.

Methadone, he says, is what keeps them that way.

"You have to come here to keep from using -- it's like an alcoholic
going to AA meetings years after their last drink," he says.

"Once you're an addict, you're an addict for life, and the methadone
basically sustains you from using street drugs."

The only patients connected to drugs are those just starting to clean
up, says Jim.

"People think we'll come to their community, start committing crimes
and dealing drugs, and that's not the case, not at all -- it's
absolutely not in our interest to cause trouble," he says.

"The new clients are fresh off the drug scene and they're still using
for the first month or so, but then they're clean off drugs.

"Within a month or two they're into their own places, back at work.
They're here to change their lives around."

His smoke nearly done, Jim says the real fear for those trying to
clean up is the imminent closure of Second Chance Recovery, as
announced yesterday.

Jim says addicts who can't get methadone aren't going to stay clean for long.

"If this clinic closes down and AADAC doesn't accept most of the
patients, you'll have a lot of addicts going back to the streets
doing crime to get their drugs again."

His last statement is said without threat or drama -- it's just a
matter-of-fact reality.

And so a 32-year-old former morphine user provides useful
information, rather than rhetoric and fear.

If only the same could be said for the two sides in the clinic
debate, who seem unable to grasp that it's not methadone being
opposed, but methadone clinics in inappropriate locations.

The southwest community of Braeside is the latest villain, with
officials at the Second Chance Recovery blaming the community for not
wanting 500 addicts near their homes.

For Braeside, the guilt's probably there somewhere, but the shame is
hidden behind a smile.

It must to be a massive relief, to be told the methadone clinic in
their midst will close as quickly as it opened -- property values are
safe, and so are residents, even if the danger was dubious to begin with.

You might ask why Braeside is so selfish, but the real question is
why the city is so useless on this issue?

How is it a medical service so necessary, yet so damaging to property
values and community morale, isn't covered by a policy which would
prevent such hot-potato silliness as the Braeside debacle?

Ald. Brian Pincott hopes to fix later this month.

He wants to make methadone a special service covered by its own
land-use policy -- the result will hopefully place clinics in areas
such as industrial parks, where property value isn't threatened. It's
a sensible policy for those who want to help addicts and for those
who love their homes.

For addicts like Jim, it just makes sense.