DRUG LAW COULD BE TAKING NEW, TOUGHER DIRECTION

A new anti-drug law touted as a way to punish club-drug dealers is being
used to lodge drug-induced homicide charges against friends who help
friends get high.

The law wasn't primarily meant to do that, but its supporters aren't
backing down.

According to the law, if someone dies "as a result of" taking illegal
drugs, anyone who helped in any way get any amount of those drugs could be
on the hook for drug-induced homicide, a Class X felony that carries a
minimum sentence of six to 30 years in prison.

Critics say the penalty is outrageous because it doesn't fit the crime. And
some question whether such a potential prison-crowder is an effective way
to fight the war on drugs, which has become a scourge on suburban teens and
young adults.

The law became effective Jan. 1. So far, few have been charged. But that
may be changing.

In what may be the first enforcement of a key part of the law, Lake County
prosecutors recently charged three Wauconda High School graduates with
drug-induced homicide after a fellow grad - 20-year-old Wauconda
firefighter-in-training Kenneth Willand - died from cocaine and alcohol use
at a Friday night party in his apartment.

The three charged have clean criminal records, and Lake County State's
Attorney Michael Waller described the incident as "a casual deal among
acquaintances and friends."

According to authorities and those involved, the three pooled money to get
cocaine for the Sept. 27 party. One chipped in $10 and offered his van.
Another drove the van to Algonquin and made the buy, while the third tagged
along as a passenger. Without being pressured, Willand, and at least some
of the others, snorted that coke, which in part killed him.

"That's enough under the law," Waller said. "We're dealing with a recently
amended law that deals with some harsh - some very harsh - consequences,
but the purpose is to deter drug use."

State Rep. Suzanne Bassi, a Palatine Republican, co-sponsored the changes
in the law. She acknowledged the Lake County charges surprised her, but she
did not criticize them.

"The idea was to go after club-drug dealers," she said. "I hope (Waller is)
looking at the spirit as well as the letter of the law. But maybe we need
to really send that message - even louder - that these drugs are lethal."

Mark Novoa said he's always known such drugs are lethal - and illegal - but
that wasn't what finally persuaded him to declare war on his cocaine addiction.

It was the heroin death last month of his live-in girlfriend, 22-year-old
Janine Mokrzycki of St. Charles.

"I believe that in my situation that I received the worst punishment
possible: Janine was the love of my life," said Novoa, who went with her to
Chicago Sept. 28 to buy heroin, a drug he didn't use and advised her
against using. "I told her, 'If you're going to go down there, I'm coming
with you.' She would have gone anyway. ... You can only put a certain
amount of blame to the other party."

Although he said he's been told he won't be charged with anything stiffer
than possession, Novoa's actions could have led to charges of drug-induced
homicide under the law.

Defense attorneys say the law may be unconstitutional.

Jim Reddy, chief of appeals for the Cook County public defender's office,
said it violates the state constitution, which demands that punishment fit
the crime.

"It's preposterous," he said. "This is voluntary, taking drugs. If I give
you a gun, and you shoot yourself, I didn't kill you."

Linda McCaleb, whose son, Elliot, is among those charged in Lake County,
said she knew Elliot's life would never be the same after Willand died. But
she never expected he could be charged with drug-induced homicide.

"When he told me that I almost dropped the phone," she said. "Just that
word: Homicide. He's never done anything to hurt someone. That's what's so
incredible."

Ed Yohnka, spokesman for the American Civil Liberties Union of Illinois,
said the scenario smacks of bad lawmaking.

"This is someone who fits the profile of literally millions of people
across the country, and is it really the intent of the General Assembly to
place all those people in jeopardy of being charged with a Class X
(felony)?" he said. "This is not what this law was touted to be. If this is
the kind of people we intend to prosecute, then the General Assembly should
have debated about this."

The law passed overwhelmingly last year with no debate on scenarios like
the one surrounding Willand's death.

It was inspired by a number of suburban teens who died from club drugs two
years ago, and the goal was to bring laws up to date with the newer drugs.

At the time, DuPage County State's Attorney Joseph Birkett, who drafted the
law, said it was intended to send a message that "Illinois will not
tolerate our youth being harmed by drug pushers."

He was partially inspired by the 2000 death of 18-year-old Sara Aeschlimann
of Naperville. A friend was accused of giving her PMA, an Ecstasy
look-alike. He was also accused of spiking her drink with more PMA after
she refused his sexual advances.

Birkett wanted to charge him with drug-induced homicide but had to settle
for manslaughter, the toughest charge available at the time, which carries
a maximum sentence of five years. The charge was dropped, but the friend,
Garrett Harth, was sentenced to 15 years on drug-dealing charges.

Birkett and other anti-drug advocates vowed to close the club-drug loophole.

They did, but they also greatly expanded the definition of drug-induced
homicide, allowing the Wauconda men - and potentially many others - to be
charged.

Birkett declined to comment on the Lake County charges, but said the law
was intended to go after "people who actually sell the drugs - or deliver
the drugs - because the conduct is so dangerous."

But, he added, "it doesn't mean you have to bring charges in every case."

Indeed, Waller said his office could drop the Class X and press less-harsh
charges.

State Rep. Bill O'Connor, a Riverside Republican who co-sponsored the law,
said so-called "prosecutorial discretion" is key.

"I'd stand by the statute," said O'Connor, who declined to comment on the
specifics of the Lake County case. "It seems to me in the circumstance
where there really is (little) involvement, the prosecutor might want to
press a different charge. In one sense, you pass a law, and in another
sense, you rely on the prosecutors to use their discretion."

"Which means 'I get to pick,'e" Reddy countered. "That's no system."

The law is often referred to as "Kelley's Law," after Kelley Baker, a
23-year-old from Rolling Meadows who died of an Ecstasy overdose in 1999.

Her mother, Kate Patton, became an anti-club drug crusader and lobbied for
the harsher laws. She said Kelley's Law is supposed to be harsh.

"This is a classic example of what can happen with very little
involvement," she said of one of those charged in Willand's death. "I feel
awful that he was at the wrong the place at the wrong time, but he made a
choice, and drugs are illegal. Think about if that guy hadn't have chipped
in the money, maybe that other guy wouldn't be able to buy the drugs. Think
about it: Maybe that young man would still be alive."