Series: 7 Of 16

A PROBLEM OF PROFIT

[Editor's note: Names in the following story have been changed to
protect the source's identity. Darryl Morris was 14 years old the
first time he was suspected by police of being a drug dealer.]

Living in Tampa, Fla., the marijuana was plentiful and Morris knew
where to get lots of it. His circle of friends was much older, and
they were dealing drugs, too.

He said he was lured into the business by the easy money. "Money is
always a motivating factor. It's a lucrative business," he said.

He said he had many regular buyers, and soon he was pushing pills and
LSD. He was so successful, he moved out of his parents' house at the
age of 15. They had him arrested for truancy. The juvenile authorities
brought him home, but he didn't stay long. By the age of 16, he was on
his own, supporting himself by selling drugs. He was a high school
dropout making more than $1,000 a week.

He said he was using drugs as well, "mostly morphine and Demerol."
Unlike some drug abusers, Morris had a stable family at home - a
father, mother, two brothers and three sisters - but, he said, the
rules of the house were too strict for him.

"I've always been extremely rebellious. I didn't like obeying
authority," he said.

Morris was 17 when he was busted for possession of drugs and
paraphernalia and burglary. He received five years in a Florida prison.

"It was very scary going to prison, but half my neighborhood was in
there," he said.

Morris said fighting was a way of life in prison. He was stabbed in
the stomach with a shank made from a spoon.

"Someone stole my gold chain necklace and I tried to get it back," he
said.

He made parole in three and half years and moved to
Georgia.

But he hated working for a living.

"I couldn't comprehend why I had to work so hard all week for $450
when I could make that kind of money selling dope and robbing," he
said. "I was out four months and decided I liked it better inside than
outside. I had become institutionalized. I adapted better in a
controlled environment. When I was on the outside, I was free, but I
wasn't mentally free," he said.

He started selling marijuana again, making $4,000 to $5,000 a week,
and he was using any drug he could get.

He was arrested in Georgia for aggravated assault and criminal
destruction of property.

"I stabbed a guy who threatened to turn me in for some robberies, then
I tore his yard up with my car doing doughnuts," he said.

TURNING AROUND

Morris' arrest was a violation of his parole and he was sentenced to
five years in prison. He said he expected to spend his life there.

"I always felt like I would die in the electric chair. I knew I was
dangerous. I always felt like I was either gonna get killed or kill
somebody," he said.

But something happened to Morris that he didn't expect - a preacher
counseled him in the county jail while he was waiting to go to court.

"I got saved," he said.

All in all, Morris spent more than seven years in six different
prisons, but when he was paroled the second time, he said he was a
changed man.

He was able to get a job as a butcher because he learned to cut meat
in prison. He married and settled down.

"There were times that I was tempted to sell drugs for some fast cash,
you know, to get caught up on some bills, but that's the trouble with
that lifestyle. You tell yourself, 'OK, I'm just gonna make a couple
of scores to get ahead, or get out of debt or whatever.'

"But you don't save the money, or use it wisely. You spend it as fast
as you make it. Easy come, easy go," he said.

Now in his 40s, Morris suffers from hepatitis C. He contracted it by
sharing needles during his days of using illegal drugs. He lives with
the complications caused by the disease - fatigue, memory lapses,
fevers and liver damage.

But with hard work and determination, and his daily commitment to stay
away from drugs, he has built his own business.

He also counsels recovering addicts and offers aid - meals, temporary
shelter or jobs - to anyone who is sincere about their recovery.

"I just want people to know there is hope," he said. "No matter how
low you get, no matter how desperate your situation, there is always
hope," he said.

Kelli Tipton is a staff writer for The Daily Home.