IMLER: BEST DAYS STILL AHEAD

To many, Scott Tracy Imler's life might have seemed over. He had lost his
job, been branded a felon and undergone lung surgery without knowing if he
would survive.

But Imler begs to differ and looks ready to take on the world again, albeit
one slow breath at a time.

Imler, 45, who was head of the Los Angeles Cannabis Resource Center in West
Hollywood, gained notoriety when Drug Enforcement Agency agents raided the
center on Oct. 25, 2001 and shut it down.

At the time of the raid, the center was serving 960 patients, of whom 80
percent were HIV/cancer sufferers. Imler and two other center officers
pleaded guilty to maintaining a drug establishment, a felony that led up to
30 months of federal prison time.

However, the U.S. District Judge Howard Matz cited a "lesser harm doctrine"
and ruled that Imler, along with Jeff Yablan and Jeffrey Farrington
"committed a crime to avoid the harm of the greater suffering of patients"
by giving them marijuana.

Much to his own surprise, Imler was given a lowball sentence to serve one
year of probation and 100 hours of community service.

Despite his felony conviction, Imler remains an advocate of medical
marijuana legislation and says he's proud of what he accomplished.

"I knew what the risks were [in setting up the center]," insists Imler,
"and I felt the risks were worth taking in order to try and do something
good in the community."

In 1996, Imler set up the center after voters passed Proposition 215, a
state-wide initiative authored by Imler which legalized the medical use of
marijuana and was adopted by eight other states.

"The letter and spirit of the initiative was medical use, if you didn't
have a legitimate medical reason, you didn't get into the center."

But unlike other cannabis resource centers up in Northern California which
operate in an incognito fashion, says Imler, he was meticulous about
legitimate paperwork, even filing taxes with the IRS and applying for drug
manufacturing licenses with both the Food and Drug Administration and the DEA.

"He was a workaholic," said Leddy, his partner of 16 years and a geography
lecturer. "I could never get him to leave the house."

Ironically, despite all of Imler's efforts, it was his open-book policies
that gave the federal government the arsenal to prosecute, ultimately
leading to both the center's and Imler's demise.

"We were too open, too honest, too forthcoming with the government who
didn't know how to deal with us except to crush us like a bug," said Imler.

"But what could you do?" he questions. "Be secretive, be dishonest? That's
not who we were."

At times during the year after the raid, Imler felt like abandoning
everything and taking flight -- but deep down he knew he could not act on
those thoughts.

What kept him going, he said, was his faith in God, the support of his
clergy, friends and family and a sense of responsibility.

"We could have walked away after the raid...but we didn't. I didn't think
it was the right thing to do."

A couple of months later Imler suffered another setback: He discovered he
had advanced-stage lung cancer.

"That was a blow on top of a blow," recalls Imler.

The intensive and painful chemotherapy treatment that ensued eventually
took its toll on Imler's health and led to hospitalization.

Ever the eternal optimist, he fought to survive.

"I definitely wanted to get rid of it," he said, "I wanted to live."

But when lead prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald argued in court that Imler's
medical condition was "not an extraordinary impairment" and that the Board
of Prisons would provide adequate health care, Imler was sure he was going
to die in prison.

"From the minute I was diagnosed, I was concerned with it," he said.

"I was scared."

For a cancer survivor and a convicted felon who relies on state disability
- --Imler agrees that his future appears bleak but he feels no regret.

"I think that was worth the price -- ultimately, because whenever you
follow your heart to do what's right and to make a positive difference in
people's lives, it is its own reward.

"I wouldn't have done it in any other way," he said.

He now looks forward to new fights: Advocating for Senate bill 420 which
clarifies and enforces the guidelines of Prop. 215, and serving his
community as a local minister.

"There are a lot of good things to do in this world, and I hope I'll be
able to contribute to that."