DANGER FAILING TO HIT HOME WITH CALGARY TEENS

The first time, it was pure heaven.

"Everything was happiness," is how 55-year-old Jane describes her
nascent experience with MDMA, the drug known by its street name ecstasy.

Another time, it wasn't so great.

"I was up all night sweating profusely and it felt as though my brain
cells were on fire," says the Calgary based artist.

After that she says she has stopped doing the recreational drug known
for its "party hearty" qualities.

Among other recreational drug users of her generation, ecstasy has
fallen out of favour over the past decade.

"It's really not so cool anymore. . . . It's seen more as something
that only younger kids find exciting."

Jane isn't her real name. If I don't agree to create fake names for
those I speak with Wednesday, I won't be able to shed any light on an
illegal substance that has been popular since the 1970s. No one in
their right mind would admit in print to breaking the law.

Ask around the world of recreational drug users and you'll get pretty
much the same story Jane tells.

Fifteen years ago, ecstasy was cool, sexy even.

My own early knowledge of the drug came from one episode of a TV
series in the 1990s, the name of which escapes my middle-aged brain,
where a cluster of suburbanite couples high on ecstasy have way too
much fun dancing and touching one another. In this second decade of
the 21st century, though, ecstasy doesn't seem so much fun anymore.
The past few months have seen a rash of news headlines about young
people dying after popping the pill.

"You just can't trust what you're taking," Jane says. "Any
intelligent person sees what's happening and knows it's a drug to
steer clear of."

Sadly, that memo hasn't made its way down to the younger set. Over
the past two months, five Calgarians have died after ingesting the drug.

On Wednesday, Alberta's chief medical examiner confirmed that in
nearly all of these cases, the ecstasy was tainted with a lethal chemical.

The name of that chemical is long and hard to pronounce -
paramethoxymethamphetamine (PMMA) - but its punch is pretty simple:
It is five times more toxic than MDMA, its danger exacerbated by the
fact that because it takes longer than regular ecstasy to kick in,
users mistakenly believe they've ingested a low dose and take another
hit, or two or three.

Police and health authorities, with the help of the local media, have
done their best to get the word out on its increasing prevalence and
danger; as have parents of some of those who lost their lives as a
result of taking ecstasy lined with toxic substances.

In June, I sat in a Strathmore funeral home and listened in awe as
Brenda Herrmann eulogized her 15-year-old son, Jonathan. Before a
crowd of several hundred, many of them teenagers, the brave mother
described in intricate detail the agonizing last moments of her son's
life after overdosing on ecstasy.

That heartfelt message, unfortunately, isn't being heard in a meaningful way.

"The drug world is pretty undercover," Catherine, a 24-year-old
recent University of Calgary grad, explains. "We don't even talk to
each other, let alone adults, about which street drugs we're taking."

Like so many other young people, Catherine (again, not her real name)
had a brief flirtation with ecstasy.

"Well, it's everywhere, so you end up trying it," she says.

It's popular with young people, she says, because "it's good for
partying - it creates a bonding experience when a whole bunch of
people take it together."

Her first time filled that bill.

"It was euphoric, highly sensual," she says.

Last year, though, she nearly ended up as one of those new headlines.

"I had a really, really bad experience," she says. "I looked it up
online and found out the one I had taken was known as Dr. Doom, and
there were all these warnings about it. . . . After that, I quit ecstasy cold."

Catherine says she thinks better education is needed about ecstasy
and its dangers.

"I see 14-year-old kids at dances high on ecstasy all the time," she
says. "It's everywhere."

What doesn't seem to be everywhere is awareness, especially among
schoolage kids.

Over the lunch hour near Western Canada High School, I stop a trio of
15-year-old boys.

"It's a party high, that's all," says one, to which another pipes
in: "It's not any worse than liquor, and easier for us to buy."

In another 40 years, they might share Jane's opinion that ecstasy
isn't really all that cool.

How we're going to help them get to that milestone is the
conversation we all need to be having today.