SOLVENT 'HUFFERS' PLAGUE EAST AVENUE SOUTH

The 22 empty tins of paint thinner are scattered like confetti on the ground.

Some have been there long enough to rust. Others appear to be fresh
empties. A few still have a drop or two of solvent inside.

The guys will probably be back for that later.

The paint thinner is their fix. Their high. They are addicted to its sudden
and powerful buzz. All it takes is a whiff.

Throughout the long, harsh winter, the four men -- two might be teens --
have huddled here in this makeshift camp at the foot of East Avenue South.
They spend their days hanging out in a narrow strip of trees crammed
between a tall apartment building to the north and the railway tracks and a
busy public footpath to the south. A bit farther west are a playground and
a school.

The camp isn't hard to find. You can see it from the trail. A dozen empty
water and beer bottles strewn about. An old microwave oven. Charred fence
posts and skids used to build a fire. The neon-green price stickers on the
paint-thinner tins show it costs just $4.79 for each 473-millilitre container.

That's a lot of bang for the buck.

An old brown striped armchair has been dragged into the thicket, the foam
cushion ripped apart so chunks of the dirty yellow sponge can be used to
soak up the paint thinner. The sponge is put into a plastic bag -- there
are plenty blowing around -- then the bag is held up to cover the nose and
mouth as fumes are inhaled. This is called huffing.

Most addicts turn to huffing because it's cheaper than buying alcohol or
street drugs. Any solvent or aerosol will do the job -- gasoline, shoe
polish, paint removers, model airplane glue, nail polish remover, spray
deodorants, hairsprays and insecticides.

The inhalants flood the bloodstream directly from the lungs and then
quickly go into the brain and liver, the organs with the largest blood
supply. The effect is an instant high.

Huffers become giddy, outgoing and full of confidence. On the downside,
there is sneezing, coughing, vomiting, diarrhea, muscle pain and a
hangover. In the long term, there is damage to the liver, kidneys, lungs,
heart, blood and brain.

The four men who hang out here all day getting high have been regular,
although unwanted, fixtures in the neighbourhood since late summer,
according to area residents. At first, the guys stuck to their spot in the
woods.

Kevin Farr and his wife Christine saw them most days when they walked their
five-year-old daughter along the trail to Queen Victoria School. "Why is
that man sniffing a bag?" little Marley would ask. Her parents struggled
for an answer.

Then, about six weeks ago, Christine and Marley were walking alone when one
of the men grabbed Christine by the arm and began yelling incoherently at
her. She shrugged him off and hurriedly ushered her daughter to their
apartment building -- the one right next to the men's camp.

Christine's sister, who also lives in the area, had a similar experience
while walking her son to school.

Christine now drives Marley to kindergarten.

A few weeks ago, the men started to become more brazen. They began huffing
in front of the apartment building and on the street itself.

One even knocked on the door of an East Avenue South house, but the man
inside refused to open up. "They're very bold," says Kevin Farr.

Once, Kevin confronted one of the men in front of the apartment building.
In a fit of frustration, he grabbed the man's plastic bag and threw it into
the trash. It took only minutes before the man reappeared with another bag
of solvents.

Police have been called numerous times, Kevin says, and once they even came
by. Kevin walked the officer down the railway tracks and pointed out the
stash in the woods. The cop told Kevin there was little he could do.

"It's not illegal," says Inspector Bob Buck.

Solvents are a legal substance.

Police have to wait until the problem escalates into trespassing, causing a
disturbance, mischief, assault or some other offence.

Huffing isn't a big problem in Hamilton, says Buck, but he adds that he
will be sending extra officers to patrol the area at East Avenue South.

Some agencies for the homeless in Hamilton are looking into setting up
something called a wet shelter. It allows homeless alcoholics and huffers
to trade in their mouthwash and their solvents for homemade wine. They'll
still be wasted -- but at least they'll be alive. In the meantime, those
empty paint thinner tins keep piling up.

~~~ Susan Clairmont's commentary appears regularly in The Spectator.