THE 'NEEDLE LADY'

A Loophole In State Law Lets A Concerned Nurse Give Drug Users Clean
Needles. But Her Street Distribution Has Prompted One Neighborhood To Ask
Peoria's City Council To Move Her Out Of Sight.

PEORIA -June Moore and her neighbors in Olde Towne South have been fighting
hard to change their area's affiliation with drugs and prostitution.

The battle took a different turn recently with the appearance of "the
needle lady."

Since February, every Wednesday like clockwork, Beth Wehrman's unmarked
silver car has cruised the area of Matthew Street and Lincoln Avenue,
stocked with syringes, swabs, bottle caps and other paraphernalia used to
inject illegal drugs.

Sometimes "the needle lady" parks in a back alley. Other times, it's been
at more visible locations. And one by one, users stream in for fresh supplies.

"They would go right over to our local drug house and buy their drugs. Then
they go and get in their car and shoot up. It's all taking place right
there in front of everybody - the public and especially the school kids.
Blaine-Sumner is right around the corner," Moore said.

Wehrman, who runs Rock Island-based Lifeguard Harm Reduction Services, says
she hands out packs of 10 clean syringes liberally, even though few dirty
needles are exchanged in return. She also provides health education,
distributes condoms and gives hepatitis immunizations and HIV tests.

"It's there," she said of intravenous drug use. "What we're trying to do is
make it safer. . . . It's all about disease prevention."

The needle exchange program operates legally under state law, which
prohibits the possession of hypodermic syringes, but exempts those who are
engaged in "chemical, clinical, pharmaceutical or other scientific research."

Wehrman is contracted by the Champaign-Urbana Public Health District and
also partners with the private Chicago Recovery Alliance, which can collect
used needles in exchange for new ones under the auspices of a public health
research program.

Setting boundaries

While the "needles for research" aspect of the law shields those who
receive drug paraphernalia through Wehrman from being arrested on the spot,
at-large City Councilman Jim Ardis says he believes the city should have
some power to limit where the distribution occurs. He says it shouldn't
happen in neighborhoods.

He will present an ordinance Tuesday to the Peoria City Council that, if
passed, would prohibit delivery, sale or exchange of hypodermic syringes
and needles on all public streets, sidewalks, plazas and parks. However, it
would allow needle exchange programs to take place inside buildings in
nonresidential areas. The police chief must be notified of the location.

Ardis was contacted several weeks ago by residents of the Olde Towne South
neighborhood - bounded by Lincoln, Western and Jefferson avenues - who were
noticing more vehicle and foot traffic by people whom they believed to be
drug users. Ardis came to help pinpoint the source.

"It was just constant cars. It was like a gas station," he said of people
he observed streaming in to see Wehrman. "School buses pull up and kids get
off right in front of this.

"I do not think it's appropriate for that type of activity to (be
conducted) out of a trunk of a car in a residential neighborhood, no matter
where it is in the city," he said, adding city officials should have been
notified of the program upfront when it began.

But Wehrman says operating out of a clinic or storefront isn't the way to
reach the people she needs to reach.

"Engaging the people who I work with is very, very difficult. It's a very,
very difficult trust to build," she said. "It has to be in a place that is
easily accessible to the people who need it. A fixed site is wonderful, but
a small percentage of people are going to use it."

Peoria Police Chief John Stenson points out that making the needle
transactions on the street in full public view could create privacy issues
for those using the program.

"If she's worried about the privacy of her clientele, then there's a better
way of doing it than having them come up on the street," he said.

The routine

Wehrman drives from the Quad Cities to the Peoria and Galesburg areas once
a week. The 49-year-old nurse hauls around an empty kitty litter bucket to
collect dirty needles. Her makeshift office consists of a rainbow-colored
plastic storage bin that holds supplies for sanitary injections.

Her territory is Illinois HIV Prevention Region 2, which encompasses 13
counties including Peoria, Woodford and Tazewell. More than 130 people have
enrolled in the Lifeguard program in that region, with about three more
signing up each week, Wehrman said. They are men and women aged 18 to 64
and largely African-American.

Nearly 300 needles were distributed in that region in 1999, 840 in 2000,
13,200 in 2001 and more than 11,000 so far this year.

Anonymous individuals who receive Wehrman's services have to register and
carry a card. She tracks the race, age, ZIP code, gender, reason they come
to see her and number of syringes they're issued.

Although Olde Towne South activists began monitoring Wehrman's activity
only in February, she says she's been making stops in all parts of the
immediate Tri-County region - even the more affluent areas - for more than
a year. She apparently was invited to serve Peoria by drug users in Galesburg.

"There's no advertising. It's all by word of mouth," she said.

The reason her activities were noticed a few months back was because she
asked participants to complete surveys in exchange for $15 or $20, and it
drew large crowds, Wehrman says, adding that won't happen again.

"Otherwise, we operate under the radar screen."

Pros and cons

Councilman Ardis says he doesn't "think there's anything about (Wehrman's)
program that is under the radar screen when you're bringing that type of
element into a neighborhood." Other Olde Towne South residents say word
about her is spreading faster than they'd like.

"We've had a bad rap that we're trying to change. We have a drug house, a
prostitution house and now a needle lady," said Moore, the neighborhood
group's president.

Don Egan, whose relative runs L&M Automotive near where Wehrman sets up
shop, complains of having to routinely pick up needles that are discarded
around the business.

"I believe people who are in trouble like that should have clean needles,
but go downtown to the clinic (to get them)," he said. "It could be a
little kid who picks it up (here). It's rotten, if you ask me."

Neighbors have talked to police, who say their hands are tied. They can't
make her move unless ordinances are passed that would allow them to do so.
And from the start, Wehrman has been cooperative, Chief Stenson said.

One nearby resident asked Wehrman not to park in front of his home.

"It draws a crowd, and a crowd brings trouble," the man said, adding that
drug users are creatures of habit and would congregate there whether
Wehrman was around. "It took me 12 years to stop them from standing out in
front of my house.

"I think she has good intentions, but the path to hell is paved with good
intentions," he added.

Still, Wehrman argues drug users "are coming in (the neighborhood) anyway.
They're in and out all the time. I'm in there four hours a week."

Both Stenson and Ardis dispute that.

"The problem going on now is this is a street corner operation. It brings
in people at this one location from all over the city. . . . It creates the
fear of crime and an image of crime," Stenson said.

Ardis adds that because it appears Wehrman is not collecting many used
needles, he thinks she's just putting more needles on the street.

While she'd like to see people get off drugs, Wehrman said her aim is not
to push in that direction but to be supportive when someone is ready to
make that choice. Even when they do pursue treatment programs, they likely
will return to drugs a few more times before coming clean.

"If I say, 'You've got to stop doing this,' they're going to do it
regardless," she said.

In the meantime, she considers it a success when someone who shoots up six
times a day uses "clean points" half the time. She tries to educate on the
safest way to use drugs.

Peoria County State's Attorney Kevin Lyons said he can see arguments for
both sides.

"It's giving people an instrument to commit an illegal act, but there are
just different cultures of the world that have to be addressed in different
ways," he said.

"My position is, if her efforts can help curb the increase in medical
victims, then clearly that's a good thing, but it seems to me that courtesy
and being a good neighbor and even being a good citizen - those things
alone would prompt a distributor of needles to conduct themselves in a less
flagrant manner."

Legal parameters

According to Peoria city legal staff, numerous county state's attorneys
have interpreted the state's "Hypodermic Syringes and Needles Act" broadly
to allow for needle exchange programs under the research exemption.

Lyons said while the 1955 law appears broad enough to permit Lifeguard to
operate, he doesn't think the original intent was to exempt such programs
because they weren't thought of back then.

"The intention of that provision was designed, in my opinion, for two
groups - farmers and scientists who were lodged in (a) building," he said.

The proposed city ordinance up for consideration Tuesday does not attempt
to put an end to the needle exchange program, but to make sure it takes
place in a reasonable place, city attorney Randy Ray said.

"We've said it needs to be done within the confines of a building and not
in a residential area," he said. "It seems clearly well within the city's
home rule authority. There's a lot of things that are legal that can't be
done in certain parts of the city."

Ray says he's not aware of any similar ordinance in other communities.

Stenson said his hope is that Lifeguard can partner with the local health
department or drug treatment programs if the ordinance is passed.

Wehrman says she has attempted to discuss her work with Lyons and members
of the community. Chicago Recovery Alliance representatives also have
sought a meeting with city and county officials.

"It's easy to make somebody into something they're not unless you talk to
them," Wehrman said. "I have nothing to hide. What I have is people to
respect. They're my doorway to getting things accomplished."