Scourge of meth quickly overtaking the
August 20, 2003
The methamphetamine epidemic sweeping the
West is hard to see - the region's draw for meth-makers is, after all,
its isolation - but is making itself felt in unexpected ways.
Farmers find storage
tanks drained of the fertilizer used to grow crops - and to "cook"
pristine trout steams fouled by the toxic byproducts of the meth
departments more accustomed to reports of bear and cougar sightings face
a rash of burglaries by users looking to fund their next fix.
And then there are
highway workers, for whom picking up roadside trash can mean coming
across discarded "death bags" filled with poisonous gases and liquids
left over from making meth.
The drug has invaded the
rural West with a speed that confounds even experienced drug-enforcement
offices. Local authorities in 23 states, all of them in the West and
Midwest, say it's their most serious drug hazard, according to this
year's National Drug Threat Assessment from the Justice Department.
"Probably 90 percent of
the crime we investigate here we can track back to meth," said Lt. Phil
Matteson of the Central Montana Drug Task Force in Great Falls.
His office now prints
brochures for distribution to farmers and ranchers, hunters and
fishermen, and anyone else who might accidentally run into a meth lab,
or the remains of one, in the rural heart of Montana's "Golden Triangle"
All around the Golden
Triangle, thefts of toxic anhydrous ammonia are on the rise from tanks
sitting unguarded along lonely gravel roads.
"My biggest fear is that
(the thieves) are going to cut holes or cut off a valve and not be able
to stop a leak, and cause a big release" that will poison anyone
inhaling it, said Bruce Clark, general manager of Mountain View Co-op in
Great Falls, adding that thefts of his clients' anhydrous ammonia have
become "too numerous to remember."
Detective Mark Overman of
the Western Nebraska Intelligence & Narcotics Group said that meth is
made, and sold, all over Nebraska's sparsely populated and policed
"They like to just go out
to a rural location in their vehicle" - the latest trend, he said, is
mobile meth labs in trucks and vans - "some place where they can see for
quite a long ways," he said.
disproportionately affects rural areas. There are a lot more places to
hide," said Nebraska Attorney General Jon Bruning.
The evidence fattens
police blotters around the region:
In South Dakota's Black
Hills on Aug. 4, state Highway Patrol officers made a routine stop and
found two teenagers with $45,000 worth of meth in their car. A speeding
stop last month in New Mexico's Four Corners region yielded $400,000
worth of the drug.
Earlier this month in
Gillette, Wyo., a man carrying meth was accused of throwing a rock at a
woman and trying to set himself on fire. In the farming region of
southern Idaho, 12 people were nabbed in a single bust and charged with
trafficking in meth and marijuana last month.
In Colorado alone, the
number of federal prison sentences for meth- related offenses is twice
the national average. Seizures of meth labs in the state have
skyrocketed, from about 25 in 1997 to 452 in 2001.
"My God, I've never seen
a problem like this," said Sgt. Jim Gerhardt, of the Denver-based Rocky
Mountain High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area program. "I don't know
where this trend ends."
Ninety percent of the 303
so-called super labs - those producing 10 pounds or more of meth at a
time - busted last year were located in the West and Southwest,
according to the 2003 Drug Threat Assessment.
Back in 1992, the total
number of labs seized nationwide was 288. In 2001, there were 8,290 meth-lab
busts, an increase of 2,779 percent.
But no matter how big or
small the lab, cooking crank is a hazard-prone process whose effects go
beyond those directly involved, authorities said.
"We're talking about
clandestine labs that create 6 pounds of toxic waste for every pound of
meth, about the potential for fires and explosions, about children ...
having to be removed" from homes where the drug is being produced, said
Steve O'Neil, a program administrator for South Dakota's Division of
Alcohol and Drug Abuse. "With meth, particularly with its manufacture,
people who would never be affected by a drug problem are affected if
they live next door."
Meth is made by mixing
common ingredients - pseudo ephedrine, found in over-the-counter cold
medicines such as Sudafed, is one - and heating, or "cooking," them. But
if the ingredients are overheated, deadly gases and even explosions can
Those gases often linger
in the so-called box labs - meth operations small enough that their
equipment can be packed away in a cardboard box.
Matteson said that one of
his deputies who was exposed to meth gases six months ago is still
having respiratory problems.
In Colorado, a Department
of Transportation employee was disabled for a month after being exposed
to meth fumes while cleaning a trash container.
Around the region, states
are scrambling to cope. South Dakota - where meth abusers rose from 1
percent of those seeking state-funded treatment in 1997 to 33 percent in
the first six months of this year - will hold a joint state and federal
conference this week on the issue. Gov. Mike Rounds proclaimed August
Methamphetamine Awareness Month.
In Montana's far northern
Hi-Line ranching region, radio station KSEN in Shelby airs public-
service messages warning of the dangers of meth and meth labs.
"Meth labs are becoming a
huge problem here ... but now the public is pretty well aware of what to
look for," said KSEN news director Mark Daniels.
estimate that meth lab cleanups alone cost state taxpayers more than $1
million last year, compared to $98,000 in 1999. Five years ago,
Billings, Montana's largest city, was featured in a Time magazine story
on crank. "We're still seeing an increase (in abuse) and it's going
younger," said Rhonda Stennerson, a licensed addiction counselor at
Journey Recovery in Billings.
Montana and Colorado are
among several states to make it illegal to expose children to meth labs;
Colorado's law took effect July 1.
Even before Montana's law
passed, authorities there were dealing with the effects of crank on
children, whose parents, when using the drug, frequently neglected them.
Kathy Moore, 35, of
Billings, who began using crank as a teenager, had five children by
three different men and saw all of them removed by authorities. Her idea
of fun was smoking an "eight-ball," or an eighth-ounce, in a single
sitting. A fraction of that amount is considered a typical daily dose.
The drug revved her up so
much she went days without sleeping or eating, and her large frame
became nearly skeletal. She once picked at imaginary sores on her face
for so many hours that real ones formed. Some of her teeth fell out.
Despite that, she said,
when you're using "you feel like you know it all. I had an answer for
Last year, during the
most recent of several jail stints, she took hard stock of her life.
"I was like, 'This is
pathetic. I'm living with my mom, and my kids have been taken away,"'
Moore went directly from
jail to rehab. Still on probation, she works at a Billings convenience
store and bowls for recreation. She's gained 50 pounds, and her skin is
smooth. She has resumed contact with her 16-year-old daughter and hopes
to someday visit her two youngest children, who have been adopted by
another family. When she considered that possibility, Moore - who
retains the in-your-face attitude that once led her to threaten to shoot
a fellow dealer - began to cry.
"I can't believe some of
the stuff I did," she said. "I'd never do it again. Meth - it's bad."