PANICS, THEN & NOW

I'd like to start by saying what a pleasure and a privilege it is to
have been alternating in this space for almost a full year with one of
my favorite writers, Larry Gabriel, whose column last week was
particularly informative and told me everything I wanted to know about
what's been happening in Michigan since the shit hit the medical
marijuana fan last month.

The August events that rattled the cannabis community certainly seem
to have been designed to throw a massive scare into smokers and
suppliers, leaving patients and their caregivers trembling in fear of
arrest or serious disruption of their medicine delivery systems.

In a way, the latest panic took me back almost 45 years to January of
1967, when the Detroit Narcotics Department staged a mammoth invasion
of the local bohemian community centered on the Detroit Artists
Workshop and the neighborhood around Wayne State University. A total
of 56 citizens were arrested in a "lightning campus dope raid" that
cast a serious chill on the entire scene that was beginning to cohere
around the Grande Ballroom and the burgeoning local rock 'n' roll
movement that was showcased there every week.

The 56 arrestees in 1967 ended up being subjected to little in the way
of legal prosecution. Most were released without drug charges of any
kind, suffering only for their presence in one of the places where 11
felony warrants were being served on persons who had been identified
by the narcotics police as users or possessors of small amounts of
marijuana.

This writer appeared to be the central target of the operation. I was
accused of having given two joints to an undercover policewoman at the
Artists Workshop just before the previous Christmas. Since this gift
came under the "distribution and sales of narcotics" section of the
Michigan drug statutes, I was charged with Violation of State
Narcotics Laws and, if convicted of this heinous crime, was subject to
a sentence of a minimum mandatory 20 years with a possible maximum of
life imprisonment.

More seriously, I had been a vocal opponent of the state narcotics
laws and a proponent of marijuana legalization since founding Detroit
LEMAR two years earlier and had suffered two previous convictions for
possession. As a confirmed marijuana smoker looking forward to a
lifetime of arrest after arrest under the existing law, I decided to
dedicate myself to fighting back and, with the unswerving support of a
fearless legal team headed by attorneys Sheldon Otis and Justin
Ravitz, mounted a serious challenge to the constitutionality of the
Michigan marijuana laws.

Marijuana was classified as a narcotic. We contended on a pre-trial
basis that it was not a narcotic and had been defined as such without
any scientific basis. The penalty for simple possession of marijuana
in any amount was 1-10 years in prison, with a minimum sentence of 20
years to life for sales or distribution. We contended that such
treatment constituted cruel and unusual punishment. Other legal issues
were raised and, for the first time in Detroit Recorders Court
history, a three-judge panel was appointed to evaluate our argument
and decide whether the case should proceed to trial.

Eventually, the panel ruled that the constitutional issues could only
be adjudicated upon conviction in Recorders Court and appeal to a
higher legal body, the Michigan Court of Appeals. So, in July 1969, I
went to trial, sustained a conviction for possession of two joints
after the dispensing charge was dropped, and received a sentence of
9-1/2 to 10 years in the Michigan prison system. An appeal was
promptly filed based on my constitutional challenge, but the Detroit
judge, Robert J. Colombo, denied my petition for appeal bond and sent
me to Jackson Prison to begin serving my sentence while my legal
appeal worked its way through the Court of Appeals to the Michigan
Supreme Court.

Another two-and-a-half years of legal struggle ensued while I was held
under maximum security conditions for a year in Marquette Prison in
the Upper Peninsula, and then in Jackson, "the world's largest walled
prison," awaiting the results of my appeal and taking spiritual
sustenance from the concerted efforts of my family, friends and
supporters to gain my release. Countless benefits and rallies
involving scores of bands and speakers were staged on my behalf while
the Michigan Court of Appeals ruled against me and my case was argued
before the Michigan Supreme Court.

To make a long story just a little bit shorter, my ordeal came to a
sudden conclusion on Dec. 13, 1971, when I was released from Jackson
on appeal bond. That was three days after John Lennon and Yoko Ono,
Stevie Wonder, Bob Seger, Allen Ginsberg, Phil Ochs, Bobby Seale and
an incredible cast of fellow performers and activists came together
with 15,000 frenzied supporters at Crisler Arena in Ann Arbor for the
John Sinclair Freedom Rally. And it was only four days after the
Michigan Legislature passed a new drug law that removed marijuana from
the narcotics list and reduced the sentence for possession to one year
and for sales to a maximum of four years in prison.

This salubrious outcome provided somewhat of a happy ending to the
ugly sequence of events that had started with the "lightning campus
dope raid" of Jan. 24, 1967- almost five years before. I will always
believe that it was our open defiance of the marijuana laws, our overt
advocacy of marijuana legalization, and our sustained legal challenge
to the constitutionality of the marijuana laws that helped create the
climate in Michigan that we are beginning to enjoy now, and I take
considerable pride in having been a key participant in the process.

As I never tire of saying, I'm a registered Michigan marijuana patient
now, and I continue to look forward to the day when our voters decide
to legalize marijuana once and for all. It took a long time to get
from marijuana as a narcotic to the $5 fine for possession in Ann
Arbor, Ypsilanti and East Lansing almost 40 years ago, and much longer
for us to progress to the legalization of medical marijuana in 2008.
Let's not stop now!

On a strictly personal note, I'd like to invite my readers to join me
in celebration of my 70th birthday on Oct. 2, at the Hastings Street
Ballroom. This is an entirely unanticipated event, but I'm going to
give thanks and try to stay around as long as I can. Sometime this
winter will mark 50 years since I smoked my first joint, and on Dec.
10, we'll celebrate the 40th anniversary of the John Sinclair Freedom
Rally with a jubilant reunion concert at Masonic Temple.

Finally, I'll be honored with the High Times Lester Grinspoon Lifetime
Achievement Award at the Medical Cannabis Cup gathering at Bert's
Warehouse Theatre in Eastern Market on Sunday, Oct. 16 - at 4:20 p.m.

I'd love to see all of you there, and if you bring your patient cards,
we can light up together and be somebody.

- -New Orleans