'SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE'

Former Chelmsford High Principal's Private Pain Spurs Public and
Controversial Call For Action

SALEM -- Herbert Levine stares at the flat-screen computer monitor, near
the photograph of Ted Williams on his office wall.

There's an e-mail from a family in Rhode Island dealing with a child's
heroin addiction. Thanks, they wrote, you have our support.

Levine has heard from just one other superintendent, but dozens of similar
e-mails are pouring in from families across the country. The nation's drug
czar called the previous day from Washington to offer support. There were
two TV interviews.

Levine, the former Chelmsford High School principal who has served as
superintendent of schools in Salem for the past seven years, has proposed
random drug testing for the town's students. It's in the preliminary stage,
and a task force is being formed to explore the issue. Then, it goes to the
School Committee.

Levine says his "personal preference" would be for "everybody" from seventh
grade through high school seniors to be tested for drugs, though that's for
the task force to recommend.

Already, the American Civil Liberties Union opposes the effort and says it
will die in court.

This didn't happen overnight, or without thought, says Levine. And it
didn't happen without a great deal of "very painful" personal experience,
when he discovered his 19-year-old son, Joel, was addicted to OxyContin.

"I have 36 years in education, a Ph.D. from Boston College, I was a
principal for 20 years, a superintendent, and I didn't even know my own kid
was in trouble. How's a guy working the second shift at the G.E. plant
gonna know?" he asks.

In Salem, he's using his "perch" to force the issue into the open.

There was a moment of epiphany, "though I hate to use that word," says
Levine, 57. "At some point a month or two ago, I said to myself, 'Society
is not doing enough about this problem. We go to funerals for kids who die
of OxyContin and heroin overdoses and then we go back to work the next day
and do the same goddamn thing. Something needs to be done.'"

After 36 years in public education he led Chelmsford High from 1992 to 1996
Levine has found not only the spotlight, but the legacy he will leave when
he retires in June.

He thought about retiring last summer, and "at least some of the reason was
to attend to Joel, not knowing at the time what was going to be the outcome
of his recovery." He decided to stay another year.

Joel and his three other children are his "most important" legacy, says Levine.

In the early stages of his son's addiction, he attributed Joel's behavior
to his youth.

"He wasn't flying off the handle, just more irritable, in his room more. We
gave him that space. We respected the privacy of the kids. We didn't snoop
around."

Then came the calls. One, from a pal on the Peabody police force. Later,
two of Joel's best friends, boys Levine had coached in baseball, called
with their own stark warning:

"Joel is in trouble."

When the father pushed, the son pushed back.

"You don't trust me," retorted Joel. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

It got worse. In June, friends and family intervened.

Rehab, detox, and finally, a facility where Joel's mind was treated, as his
body already had been. He celebrated seven months of sobriety on Sunday.

Last week, father and son spoke at a packed Salem High School auditorium.
They'll speak in Peabody on Feb. 2, and in Beverly sometime after that.

Levine hopes to shove the issue of drug use and addiction from behind
closed doors of shame, thRough the hallways of schools and town forums, and
onto the street.

For too long, "families have dealt with this in silence, or swept it under
the rug. It needs to be talked about publicly."

"Life is a bundle of choices," he says. "It's about time society accepted
drug addiction as a disease."

He's the first Massachusetts school superintendent to propose such a thing,
but "maybe I'm just the first one in the area to have his own son go
through this whole thing.

"This scourge, this affliction, this addiction," he says, spitting out the
words as if they sour in his mouth, "It takes over your whole family."

Sarah Wunsch, staff attorney for the ACLU of Massachusetts, is all for drug
education and discussion. It's random testing that troubles her.

Though the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1995 that student athletes could be
drug tested, in 2002 the court said drug tests could be used for those
involved in "competitive extracurricular activities."

But Wunsch says the state's Supreme Judicial Court has been "more
protective of individual rights."

Wunsch says the court ruled Boston police officers do not have to undergo
random testing. "Police officers carry guns and enforce the drug laws, so I
think there's a very good chance they'd not test public school kids under
no suspicion of wrongdoing.

"Experts who work with adolescents have said it's a bad idea," she says.
"One of the best deterrents to keeping kids off drugs and alcohol is being
involved in extracurricular activities." Drug tests might "push kids away"
from such activities, she says.

She also says testing is "expensive," and doesn't "deal with alcohol at all."

If mandatory random testing is passed, she says, "I assume a kid or parents
would contact us to challenge it. And we'd be happy to do that."

But Levine says, "The only time in history the world has changed for the
better has been when a few people made it very personal to change things
for the better.

"The ACLU has not won a single drug-test challenge," he says. "The ACLU
sells tempests in teapots."

Further, he says, "Tests are relatively inexpensive, and you can test for
10 to 15 different drugs."

Things must change at some point, Levine says. When he was a kid "people
drove around with open six-packs in the car. At some point, society said,
'We've had enough kids dying from drunk driving.' They tightened the laws.
Courts and police got tougher. You couldn't imagine random road checks, but
now they're part of the lexicon.

"At some point, society said it's no longer acceptable to educate
special-education kids in homes, or in basements somewhere, separate from
other students.

"Kids are dying from drugs every day," he says. "If not literally,
internally. They're experimenting with some very powerful drugs that didn't
even exist 10 years ago."

The idea with student tests is "to get them early, get them help. We'd tell
them, 'Your parents are going to know, so there will be consequences.'" But
he wants the policy to be less consequential and more rehabilitative.

During the desegregation battle, Levine worked at South Boston High School.

"We put thousands of kids through metal detectors and scanners, and went
through bags and purses. That was in the 1970s. That invasion of privacy
was used to keep the school safe. To protect the greater good."

Levine says he hasn't talked to students about his proposal yet, but the
interviews he's read show them "more supportive than I thought. A number
have said, 'Not me. Respect my privacy.' But others say it may be a little
inconvenient, but it's the right thing to do."

His house isn't the same now.

"I'm going to walk into your room, look under your bed, in your car,check
your computer, your cell phone. As long as you're in my house, it's my
rules and they're there to keep you healthy."

Parenting is "a tough battle to fight with or without drugs," he says.

"This is the most important thing I've done outside of being a father and
husband. This policy could impact people for generations if it is adopted.

"But if nothing else, it has opened the debate in public and at least
that's a start. It's too big to not be out in public. People are talking
about it."