PART 1 of 5

METHAMPHETAMINE USE NOW DOMINATING REGIONAL DRUG MARKET

Bob Stevens sits behind his desk at the Hardin County Commonwealth's
Attorney's Office, talking about methamphetamine. All around him are
stacked open boxes with folders sticking out bearing the names of
"Blakley," "Frazier," "McMillen" and others.

The boxes contain videotapes. They contain reports. They contain confessions.

To Stevens, they contain frustration.

In the year that he has been assistant commonwealth's attorney and
prosecuting crimes involving meth, the stacks of boxes have gotten higher
and higher.

To illustrate the growing popularity of the drug commonly known as crank,
he holds his hands in front of him. His left hand six inches below his
right shows local meth arrests two years ago compared to crack cocaine.

He then raises his left hand even with the right, stating where, today, all
other crimes connected to hard narcotics are equal to those of meth alone.
Finally, he raises his left hand six inches above his right, predicting
where authorities fear that meth cases will be in the coming years.

"You just don't know how bad it's going to get," Stevens said.

Since Kentucky enacted tougher meth laws in 1998, dozens of cases have
wound through the Hardin County court system. There are 50 defendants
currently accused of using, manufacturing or distributing.

Many others have avoided trial and possibly more lengthy sentences by
accepting plea agreements for their involvement with the drug. In fact,
just one meth case has ever gone to trial in Hardin County.

A judge, following a jury's January recommendation, last week sentenced
Charles Steven Blakley to 15 years in prison. His time, to be served
consecutively, is the maximum allowed for the charges of possession of both
drug paraphernalia and a controlled substance.

Blakley still faces three other charges for his alleged involvement in the
meth trade.

Authorities believe Blakley to be one of many individuals who worked
together over at least the last year and a half at labs busted by the
Kentucky State Police in eastern Hardin County.

One of those believed to have been in a meth ring with Blakley and several
others sat atop Hardin County's first Most Wanted List. Marty McMillen was
caught in August for his alleged involvement in the same lab from which
Blakley's sentence stemmed.

The lab was found inside the home McMillen had rented on Happy Hollow Road.

Earl Wayne Frazier and his wife, Melissa Vittitow Frazier, who currently
sit in a Georgia prison awaiting extradition to Hardin County, are alleged
members of the same ring. The two were at McMillen's home when the
September 2000 bust resulted in six arrests and the seizure of several
ounces of finished methamphetamine and a functioning lab, court records show.

The couple was caught in Georgia after running from Kentucky authorities.
They were nabbed by Georgia police and found to be operating another lab.
The two pleaded guilty to meth manufacturing charges late last year.

METH HISTORY

No one is sure just how long the drug has been in Hardin County or how it
arrived.

Meth was created in 1919 by Japanese scientists. It was originally seen by
the medical world as a virtual cure-all for everything from nasal
congestion to depression.

Various countries even experimented with the drug on military personnel
beginning at the outset of World War II in the 1930s and continuing through
the late 1960s. The effects of the drug, including reduced need for sleep
and food, as well as increased aggression, were thought to be beneficial to
troops.

As medical research advanced, the dangers of meth became more evident. And
in 1970, the drug was made illegal in the United States, forcing those who
enjoyed it to become covert users.

Beginning in the 1960s, Mexican border gangs and various American biker
groups in the western part of the country spread the formula for meth. By
the mid-1980s, meth use and labs were popping up nationwide.

CRACKING DOWN

A decade later, Kentucky lawmakers saw the need to strengthen already
existent meth laws in hopes of crippling the blossoming trade. Then, four
years ago, the Legislature passed bills making most meth crimes felonies -
even for first offenses.

Someone picked up for possessing meth faces a class D felony, punishable by
up to five years in prison. Someone caught manufacturing the narcotic could
be charged with a class B felony, punishable by 10 to 20 years behind bars.

Penalties can be stiffer for subsequent offenses or possessing a gun when
arrested.

Blakley, for instance, had faced life in prison because he claimed
ownership of one of the guns found at the Happy Hollow bust. But the jury,
in a move that angered Hardin County Commonwealth's Attorney Chris Shaw,
found him innocent of the most serious charges of manufacturing and
trafficking meth.

But not all of those arrested in the future would necessarily face lengthy
prison stays. If local judges get their wish for a circuit-level drug court
program designed to handle felony cases, some offenders would get a shot at
rehabilitation and maintaining their freedom, Hardin District Judge
Kimberly Winkenhofer Shumate said.

Circuit Judge Kelly Easton has agreed to preside over the effort.

METH GROWTH SPURT

The meth culture is a group dynamic for several reasons. The drug is not
grown, but created in a lab, generally with four to 10 people involved,
said Gerald Wilson, a narcotics detective with the KSP.

The two recipes most local cooks prefer to use to create the drug are known
as the Red P method, or red phosphorous method, and the Birch method, which
uses anhydrous ammonia.

Red P doesn't require the use of any products that are illegal to purchase,
but the yield is not as great. Birch produces more product, but anhydrous
ammonia can be difficult to come by, in part because possession of the
ammonia requires a permit and storage in a proper container.

Two of the greatest appeals of meth are the average 2,000 percent profit
margin and the abundant supply of drugs that many people are willing to
risk their freedom to obtain, Shaw said.

And despite the many who have been caught using, manufacturing or selling
meth, officials believe that countless others still operate undetected.

For Hardin County's court system, that could mean an even thicker docket in
years to come.

"They keep making it, we'll keep busting them," Wilson said.

PART 2 of 5

DANGEROUS MESS TRAILS METH PRODUCTION

The production of methamphetamine involves materials that, once combined,
yield hazardous waste. But many of those cooking the drug don't dispose of
it properly, if at all.

Not long ago, Kentucky hired out-of-state companies to clean up the mess.
Over time, though, officials believed that the cost was too steep and that
using their own resources to get rid of the waste would be significantly
cheaper and quicker.

Approximately a dozen trailers with portable labs run by Occupational
Safety and Health Administration-trained police officers are now part of
the Kentucky State Police fleet, including one kept at the KSP post in
Elizabethtown. They're available at a moment's notice to travel the state.

"One of the companies (formerly used) was in Michigan, and it took them
somewhere between 14 and 20 hours to even get here sometimes," said Gerald
Wilson, a KSP narcotics detective.

To qualify to clean a meth lab and use the trailer, Wilson and
approximately 30 KSP colleagues went through 40 hours of training conducted
under realistic meth lab conditions. All officers also must attend three
meth busts and cleanups before being certified.

"And there are so many of these labs now, it takes no time to get your
certification," Wilson said.

The two-wheeled trailers stand about 6 feet tall, are about 10 feet long
and are as wide as a pickup truck. They have a front section that's used
for the storing and transportation of seized meth evidence and by-products,
and the back half holds the various equipment needed for cleanup and
investigation.

Wilson said that the chemicals left over after meth is produced are
dangerous to the environment and often harmful to humans and animals.
Officers don protective "bunny suits," gloves and self-contained breathing
units while on the scene.

The hazardous materials are packaged in protective containers and loaded
into the meth trailer before being transported to an appropriate lab or
disposal site.

PART 3 of 5

CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER METH DEALER

Every day, Erin Bohannon fed his body a diet of methamphetamine. And every
day, he wondered about his future.

Would he pay bills or buy another hit? Would he be jailed or stay a free
man? Would he live or would he die?

Weighing the options, Bohannon's mental scales always tipped toward meth -
the one thing that he believed held the answers.

"When I would smoke it, I would see the residue (in the tube used to inhale
it) and think how it must be doing horrible things to my body," he said.
"Then, five minutes later, I'd light it up again."

Eventually, the 35-year-old Glendale man lost his home and business,
contracted hepatitis C, endured divorce, saw close friends and family
members imprisoned and lived in a constant drug-induced haze. But none of
that was enough to convince him to stop using meth, because to an addict,
"one fix is too many and 1,000 is never enough," he said.

Bohannon, working to turn around his life through Hardin County's Drug
Court, is not proud of his past. But he talks about it openly, willingly
and frankly in an attempt to try and stop others from following his 22-year
path in the local drug scene, the last few years of which he was a meth
user, trafficker and manufacturer.

"When I was high all the time, my best efforts always seemed to be
useless," he said. "At times, I was sure that death would be better than
anything else."

Bohannon tells stories of his days in the drug trade that remind the
listener of a movie plot - pounds of marijuana and cocaine tucked in the
doors of cars and driven nationwide for delivery; clandestine operations
involving the use of multiple vehicles and drivers; being stopped by police
and sweating as the authorities searched his car unsuccessfully.

Bohannon played the game so long that, at one point, he became convinced
that he couldn't be caught.

"I knew in my mind that I was more intelligent than any of those guys," he
said.

In the end, he landed in the local judicial system for a misdemeanor
marijuana charge in January 2001.

"Imagine that, all the stuff I did and I got caught with just two joints,"
Bohannon said. "But that bust is what saved my life, I promise you that."

As a member of drug court, he is required to take frequent drug tests. He
has been clean of alcohol and narcotics for nearly seven months and is
expected to graduate from the program in July.

The drug court coordinator, Diane Kavanaugh, said Bohannon has a strong
motivation to complete the program and learn from its principles. She
applauded his ability to learn the lessons of his treatment.

Being drug-free is not the only recent major change in Bohannon's life.
Because of a job-related injury at a factory, he is disabled and walks with
a cane. He now attends classes full-time at Elizabethtown Community
College, something that strikes him as odd.

"I never had much use for school and didn't even finish the 10th grade,"
Bohannon said. "Now, here I am, a college student."

The life he leads now is completely different from what he describes as the
"crazy world" of meth that he was a part of for so long. He can't pinpoint
the tens of thousands of dollars he made and lost.

For around $200 of equipment and supplies, a manufacturer, known as a
"cook," can make several thousand dollars' worth of meth in only a few
hours, Bohannon said. The finished product is then generally cut by adding
another substance, like baking soda, to come up with a nearly 50-50
mixture, thereby increasing profits yet again.

"When I sold drugs I felt like a big shot, like I had power," he said. "It
seemed like everybody liked me and that I was cool."

But Bohannon explains that the false sense of his surroundings is how he
and a companion used $55,000 worth of drugs in nine weeks.

"I don't know what we were thinking. We didn't even have cars to drive," he
said. "But we sure did stay high."

Bohannon said that it was during that binge that he lost his house by
mortgaging it twice to buy drugs and then never making a payment.

"You never think about the problems you're creating, because that's in the
future," he said. "You just worry about that next high."

That determination to get drugs turns many meth dealers and manufacturers
into something of a human pawnshop nearly overnight.

"As soon as one person finds out you've got crank, there will be 20 people
on your doorstep within a day with TVs, tools, jewelry; whatever they can
find (to exchange for meth)," Bohannon said. "Some women who get really
hard up for a fix will offer sexual favors if they don't have anything
else. That's the nature of the addiction."

Bohannon said he feels lucky to have gotten out alive, even though he
contracted Hepatitis C through intravenous use of meth.

"I just thank God so much that I never caught AIDS," he said.

Bohannon said he still has a hard time believing that he used meth, even
though he knew the dangers at the time. But, today, he has plenty of
reasons to live clean.

"I love my 13-year-old son, and I want him to be proud of me," he said.
"And I know now that I will never be high again, because I need to be there
for him."

PART 4 of 5

DEALERS TYPICALLY FIT PROFILE

White male living in a rural area. Age of mid-20s to late-40s. Lower to
middle class. Currently unemployed or only working occasionally. A criminal
history.

This is the typical methamphetamine manufacturer in Hardin County,
authorities said.

Of the 50 defendants charged with crimes involving meth currently (still? -
ask BW) in the Hardin County court system, all are white and many are male.
The female defendants are usually the girlfriends or wives of those men,
Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney Bob Stevens said.

Constant access to large quantities of drugs and the potential to get rich
quick entices people to become dealers.

For instance, someone can spin a $200 investment in lab supplies and
products to create meth into a $4,000 return in less than 24 hours, those
who were once in the drug trade say.

Although the profit margin in a methamphetamine lab is an average of 2,000
percent, manufacturers appear to more often lead lives of drug paupers than
that of narcotic royalty, Kentucky State Police Det. Gerald Wilson said.
The reason: "No one is cooking (meth) that isn't also using it," said Erin
Bohannon, a recovering former dealer and user who lives in Glendale.

Unlike other illegal drug rings, meth dealers aren't the typical lone
figurehead and mastermind of their trade. Running the operation involves
several people at various levels.

Cooks often rely on others called "mules," who travel to several locations
to gather the items for the drug-production process and to avoid suspicion,
Wilson said. Mules are usually paid with finished meth for their
assistance, further cutting into dealers' profits.

Because meth rings can involve numerous people, dealers often opt for the
secluded setting of a rural trailer or farmhouse to conduct their trade,
with the thought that their activities will go unnoticed.

Some of the areas in Hardin County where meth dealings have been broken up
over the last few years have been on properties cloaked by trees and brush
and on little-used county roads. Happy Hollow Road and a home in Cartwright
Estates, both near the Hardin-Bullitt County border, have been the sites of
almost a half dozen meth busts since September 2000.

The meth trade isn't without its physical dangers.

Almost all dealers aren't chemists, so they lack the skills needed to
properly control the volatile chemical reactions of meth production and
waste products. Their inexperience can sometimes lead to labs exploding in
a deadly fireball.

Anhydrous ammonia, a necessary part of some meth recipes, poses another
threat. The chemical can burn flesh, cause sight loss and lead to other
medical problems if a person comes into direct contact with it.

Wilson should know. His partner, who was not seriously injured, experienced
an anhydrous ammonia burn during a meth lab bust last year.

Because of the scarcity of anhydrous ammonia and the increasing attention
given to those buying the necessary supplies, dealers from rival groups
will often work together to obtain ingredients. Their desire to produce
meth has created a sort of illegal cooperative, Stevens said.

Bohannon said he witnessed several tense gatherings of rival groups where
supplies and products were swapped.

"It was weird," he said. "These guys don't even like each other, but that
didn't matter since they needed certain things that they were having a hard
time getting their hands on."

PART 5 of 5

CASH, HIGH DRIVE METH ADDICTION

The potential to earn lots of money for little effort lured a local woman
into the methamphetamine trade.

But she got hooked on the drug she was given as payment for fetching
supplies used to manufacture the illegal narcotic. It produced a quick,
hours-long high that she and her friends virtually dedicated their lives to
attaining regularly.

When it comes to defining the attraction to meth, the woman's story isn't
unique. Physicians and other officials say that use of the drug continues
to grow locally, because of its availability, low cost and powerful
euphoric effects.

For the woman, a former user now in Hardin County Drug Court who asked to
remain anonymous, she said that within six months of her first meth high,
she was addicted and had "thrown her life away." She began injecting meth -
in such large quantities that nearly all she was given went to personal
use, leaving little to sell.

Use of the drug, commonly referred to as crank, has been reported
nationally to have affected every race and socioeconomic group. But
locally, typical users are low-to middle-income whites ranging in age from
mid-20s to mid-40s.

"It's cheaper, and it lingers hours longer than cocaine," said psychologist
Terry Reams of Communicare in Elizabethtown.

Numbers of reported users treated at Communicare are growing, currently on
track to double for the fiscal year of 2002, Reams said. Twelve of the
agency's 264 patients last year reported meth as the drug they abused most,
and 14 listed it as their second-most abused substance.

Since July, 13 of the more than 100 patients seen at Communicare said meth
topped their list of preferred drugs. Eight listed it as second.

Reams said users often tire of the long-lasting effects of meth and do
other drugs to shorten the high.

"They will use marijuana and various painkillers to achieve what they feel
is a leveling effect," Reams said.

Meth can force a dedicated user to stay awake for days and forego all forms
of sustenance and hygiene, he said. Long-term users also seem to have
previously non-existent or undiagnosed mental conditions, such as
schizophrenia, reveal themselves, he said.

Scientific studies into the lasting effects of meth and the usefulness of
legislation to control its spread are ongoing, Reams said.

"We have learned from each success and failure since the 1930s," he said.
"We know that Prohibition didn't stop alcohol abuse, but the legalization
of harmful substances is most definitely not the answer."