Saturday, June 17, 2006
It's been a long road from cooking meth to a dream of culinary schoolin Pittsburgh.
By PATRICIA MEADE
VINDICATOR CRIME REPORTER
YOUNGSTOWN -- At 16, Mike snorted crystal meth for the first time.
"Man, I felt wired -- like someone who has had way too much caffeine," he said, thinking back. "The high lasted a half-hour, but I couldn't sleep for three days."
A friend who had a few hits of the highly addictive stimulant shared it with Mike. At the time, he was still in school and lived with his mom and stepfather in Lake Milton.
Mike just turned 21 and has been clean for eight months. He participates, almost daily, in Narcotics Anonymous meetings and follows a 12-step recovery program. He asked that his full name not be used for this story.
He and a roommate share a small house in Struthers. There's nothing stronger than caffeine in the place that has a cluttered male-only look.
A rough start
Curled up in a comfy chair one morning with a cup of coffee, Mike talked about his drug use. He's tried about everything, starting with marijuana at 12 years old. As he got older, he added powdered cocaine, OxyContin, Vicodin, Percocet, Xanax, Ecstasy and more to his drug diet.
Why did Mike turn to drugs in the first place? The death of a beloved uncle left him feeling lost and he wanted to feel good again. Another reason: boredom.
He said he was able to buy prescription pills from other students when he attended the Mahoning County Career and Technical Center. Senior year, he got caught with an ounce of marijuana and did an outpatient stint at the Neil Kennedy Recovery Clinic in Austintown.
"Other than that, the weed, I don't think they had a clue," Mike said of his mom and stepfather's knowledge of his drug use. "I hid it well."
A year went by before Mike tried meth again -- a friend's cousin in Ravenna made it and sold it. He liked the way it made him feel.
Mike soon hooked up with an acquaintance ("I won't call him a friend") in Lake Milton who made meth in a secluded, forgotten fort that teenagers had built. Winding trails near Mike's home led to the spot away from prying eyes.
"We made it at the fort because it smells really bad," he said, putting heavy emphasis on really.
Fumes are telltale signs of clandestine meth labs.
"We had a whole list of instructions, an alchemist's cookbook," Mike said.
He grinned as he recalled some of the nasty ingredients, such as the tips of kitchen matches and battery acid. He and his fellow meth cooker stole untold packages of Sudafed from drugstores to get the main ingredient: pseudoephedrine.
"We'd take as many packages that were in the store," Mike said. "We never got caught."
After a while, the stores where Mike shoplifted Sudafed -- Walgreens and RiteAid, for example, in Austintown, Ravenna and Newton Falls started putting the packages behind the counter. "They got smart," Mike said.
Mike and his partner in crime made meth three times a week. They used some and sold some. A quarter-gram chunk sold for $25.
"I sold to people I was using other drugs with," Mike said. "I was using cocaine, OxyContin, weed -- whatever I could find."
The effects of meth? Clenching his teeth caused a few of them to crack, and he has an irregular heartbeat. The toxins ate the enamel off two teeth, and he has some memory problems.
"I'm not stupid -- I just can't remember some things."
He lived with his mom and stepfather until graduating in 2003. They kicked him out, and he lived in his car for a while. He regrets the things he said to his stepfather when they butted heads.
Mike said most people call powdered cocaine the "rich man's drug," but crystal meth is more expensive and more potent. He said a gram of powdered cocaine sells on the street for $40 to $60 and a gram of meth goes for $100 to $120.
He doesn't see meth moving into the inner city anytime soon because of the price. Crack cocaine does the same thing, and it's cheaper, he said.
For him, finding meth in Lake Milton was easier than finding crack.
"You just want more of [meth] or anything," Mike said of the drug's addictive power. "I remember sitting in a chair at my aunt's wishing I was dead 'cause I couldn't get more, couldn't reach my dealer."
Things get worse
In August 2003, he made a brief attempt at Army life.
"They wanted me to go to South Korea, but my fianc & eacute;e said she wouldn't be here when I got back, so I stopped training. I was getting drunk all the time, anyhow," Mike said. "I got a general discharge."
In October 2004, Mike stole his boss's credit card and used it to get $10,000 in cash advances from ATMs. He bought rims for his car, but most of the money -- $8,000 -- was used to buy drugs.
"It was one big, long disastrous party," he said, shaking his head. "I bought everything from OxyContin to cocaine and more meth. I'd quit making it by then; it took too much time."
Mike's boss called the police after receiving a bank statement that showed the $10,000 in cash advances. By then, Mike had moved in with an aunt.
"I was coming home and saw my boss outside my aunt's home, and he said, 'Someone charged $10,000 to my credit card,' and I was like 'no way, that sucks,'" Mike said, laughing at his weak attempt at deception.
When booked into the Mahoning County jail that winter of 2004 to face a grand theft charge, Mike weighed 135 pounds. At 6 feet, his normal weight is 180 pounds.
"I was up 10 days straight, hallucinating from the drugs," Mike said of his $8,000 drug binge. "That was a rough detox in the county jail. I laid on the bunk three days straight. I'd throw up and then lay back down until I had to throw up again. I didn't eat."
After the fourth or fifth day, he ate a little bread and then slowly added other foods. His mom visited after he gained some weight and said he looked better.
Facing prison for felony theft, Mike knew the drug ride was over. His lawyer asked if he wanted help. He did.
After assessment by Mahoning County's Treatment Alternatives to Street Crimes, Mike was accepted into common pleas Judge Jack Durkin's drug court in February 2005. He pleaded guilty to a reduced theft charge, and sentencing was held in abeyance pending participation in drug court.
With successful completion of the program, the charge will be dismissed. The judge said Mike's "doing wonderful."
The last time
Mike said he "slipped up" last summer when he and his fianc & eacute;e were living on the North Side. A neighbor invited them over to watch a movie.
"There was alcohol all over the place -- I should have left, but I didn't and fell right back into it," Mike said. "After money got tight, I'd buy Cisco -- it's supposed to be a wine. It's really cheap."
He stuck with the wine and took one hit of Ecstasy.
"My landlord despised us, and he called my probation officer, saying I was getting high, which wasn't true," Mike said. "I was drinking but not doing drugs."
Although Mike had a bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in a closet, his probation officer didn't find it during a search. Then one day his fianc & eacute;e, without thinking of the consequences, mentioned to the probation officer that they'd gotten drunk a couple of times.
"I violated my probation, and I went to jail for one week and CCA for four months," Mike said. "Since then I've been doing OK."
CCA is Community Corrections Association, a halfway facility on Market Street.
"My fianc & eacute;e left when I went to CCA. She's happy now, and we keep in touch," Mike said. "I'm not really seeing anybody."
Mike is doing landscaping work now. Once released from drug court, which he hopes will be soon, he'd like to attend culinary school in Pittsburgh.
His roommate is about the only one who benefits from his cooking skills. He said he doesn't have many friends left because of his drug use.
"He's a good guy, we're very proud of him," said Donna Adams, a case coordinator at Treatment Alternatives to Street Crimes.
TASC, she said, provides case management and refers clients to treatment such as the 12-step programs offered by Narcotics Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous and Cocaine Anonymous.
Mike said that although he still has drug cravings, he's determined to stay clean "because of the consequences."
meade@vindy.com