FORMER METH ADDICT TELLS OF DRUG'S DARK SIDE

Jodi Blevins' voice quivered as she remembered the day she received a
Valentine with her 2-year-old son's small handprint stamped on it.

She was in jail at the time.

"I wanted my kids to love me," she said. "But I didn't think I had a
snowball's chance."

It was a stern wake-up call for the then-28-year-old mother of two, who had
spent 13 years living life on the edge.

Marijuana, cocaine, pills -- she had tried them all. But it was
methamphetamine -- called crank, speed or meth by users -- that became her
drug of choice.

"Meth had always been there from the time I was 16. It turned into my drug
of choice because you never run out of energy, and for $25 you can stay
high for two days," she said matter-of-factly.

But the powerful stimulant had a dark side. It hijacked her life and became
an all-consuming object of desire, she said.

"There are no pros to getting high," Blevins said. "The worst thing about
experimenting with drugs is losing your self-respect. You always lose
yourself before you lose everything else."

Blevins had lost much in her life, even before she started using drugs at 15.

The Marion native was just 3 when her mother was shot and killed by a
deranged neighbor who had been stalking her.

The man is serving a life sentence, but that does little to ease the pain,
Blevins said.

"Losing your mother before you can remember who she is, that's pretty
hard," she said. "I don't remember her -- only what people have told me."

Her mother and father had a stormy relationship and separated before she
was born, Blevins said. She was raised by her maternal grandparents, who
doted on her and gave her everything she wanted and needed, she said.

Then, there was another blow.

Her grandfather -- the only father figure she had ever known -- died about
the time she turned 15. Her grandmother was not able to control her, and
she "went wild," Blevins said.

She started experimenting with marijuana, then moved on to cocaine, she
said. A year later, she was snorting cocaine on a daily basis.

"I graduated from high school with a straight-A average, but I don't
remember my graduation because I was high on coke," she said.

In the beginning, Blevins said, she got drugs from older friends, but it
didn't take long before she was selling various drugs to support her habit.

"As soon as I turned 18, we were making road trips to New York to get coke.
I sold some. It was one big party," she said.

Later, she said, she started selling methamphetamine and associating
closely with people who were making the home-brewed stimulant in illegal
drug laboratories from Bristol to Grayson County.

One of them was her estranged father, Richard Allen Clark.

That association would lead to her arrest in 1999 on a federal charge of
conspiring to manufacture methamphetamine. Clark, who prosecutors said had
allowed a drug lab to operate in his Grayson County home, also was arrested.

Their arrests came along with those of four other people, including Russell
Andrew Demotsis, who was described by prosecutors as the leader of the drug
ring, which started shortly after he moved to the area from Texas.

All of those involved in the drug ring, including Demotsis, Clark and
Blevins, eventually pleaded guilty.

Demotsis was sentenced to more than 11 years in federal prison, Clark a
little more than two years.

Blevins -- who talked openly about her battle with drugs -- said she did
not want to talk about her father. She said she blames herself for his
arrest and prison sentence.

She brought two people to his home to buy drugs, one of whom later was
pulled over for a minor traffic infraction in Bristol Virginia, she said.
Police found a gun and methamphetamine in the man's car, she said. That
twist of fate led federal investigators to her father's doorstep.

At the time, Blevins was angry. But her arrest would turn out to be a
blessing in disguise.

After failing a urine drug screen while on pretrial probation, Blevins went
to jail and realized she wanted more out of life, she said. She wanted more
time with her two young sons and feared being separated from them by
prison. She begged a federal judge for probation but expected the worst.

"The judge asked, 'Why do you want a second chance?' I said I wanted my
kids to love me. I grew up without my parents. I didn't want them to."

When the judge gave her that second chance, Blevins said, she was shocked
but grateful.

She is to be on federal probation for three more years. If she messes up,
she will spend 22 months in prison.

"If he hadn't given me the chance, I would have pulled my time and come out
and done the same thing," she said.

Instead, Blevins quit drugs cold turkey. She said she has been sober for
two years, two months and seven days.

Blevins has turned her back on old friends, kept herself busy with work,
church and family, and spent much time in individual and group therapy.

A key to her recovery was participation in the Mother-Child Connection, a
Frontier Health Services program for mothers battling drug addictions, she
said. Through the program, she met other women who knew what it was like to
walk in her shoes.

"When you are all together like that and someone is pouring out their life
blood like that and you are helping them, it helps you," she said. "It's
not good to forget. You've got to remember your addiction. That's what
keeps you clean. It's important to remember the bad stuff, the torment."

Blevins, who lives in Bristol Tennessee with her husband and sons, now 12
and 4, is up front about her addiction and her conviction. She said she is
honest with her children and her employer.

"My oldest son has seen a lot of things out of me. He has seen the way I
have changed and how drugs can change people," she said. "You can't tell
your kids not to do drugs, but you can show them all the bad things about
it. It's all cons, all of it."

Now, Blevins said she is looking forward to the future. She would like to
go to college and have a career helping others overcome addiction.

In the meantime, she said she hopes her story will serve as a warning for
young people.

"If it is just one person who thinks about it, it will make me happy," she
said.

Blevins said she realizes the road before her might be rocky, but she is
taking it one day at a time.

"I'm living life now," she said. "I never did before because all I was
worried about was getting high and staying high."