| Addiction
and death spread by heroin follows a decades-old pattern.
Drug dealers devour their own communities first. Diversity
comes later.
Language,
racial and cultural barriers slow the spread for a time.
But addict by addict, the drug reaches out. The day
comes when demand breaks the walls dividing society.
That day is very close for Greater Orlando. Heroin has
devastated portions of the Hispanic community here for
years. Now, all the signs indicate it is on the verge
of expansion.
As
bad as heroin abuse has been, there have been more than
175 deaths locally in five years. It's nothing to what
it can become.
The
evidence:
Central
Florida's death toll continues to climb. Confirmed overdoses
in 1999 already have set a record. Medical examiners'
records show that at least 54 Central Floridians died
from heroin last year. At least four more suspected
cases await autopsy results.
Drug
cases are occurring over a larger region. In Brevard
County, there was one fatal overdose in 1998. There
were eight last year. Lake County had its first confirmed
heroin death.
Demand
for treatment exceeds availability. The need is so strong
that Central Florida received approval for one of two
new methadone clinics approved last year by state health
officials.
Arrest
reports show increasing abuse. In 1996, there were 19
suspected heroin dealers arrested on federal charges
here. Last year, there were 96. Local and federal agents
seized 33 pounds of heroin.
Since
September, another 71 suspected dealers have been charged
by the Central Florida High Intensity Drug Trafficking
Area task force. On Wednesday, U.S. Customs and HIDTA
agents seized 5 pounds of heroin being delivered here
from Miami.
Drug
users gain diversity
Finally,
the population of drug users is becoming significantly
more diverse. It is a pattern that has been seen all
over the country.
Consider
the case of Eugene, Ore., a modest-sized town known
for its college students, environmental activism and
outdoor sports. It began to see cheap, potent heroin
in the late 1980s, five years before it reached Central
Florida.
Twenty-nine
of Greater Eugene's 315,000 residents died from heroin
in the first nine months of 1999. During the same period,
there were 35 deaths among the 1.35 million residents
of Orange, Osceola and Seminole counties.
Eugene's
heroin is `black tar' imported from Mexico. And at first,
the dealers and most of the users came from the city's
Mexican-American community. Today, it has spread far
beyond the Hispanic community. Most addicts are non-Hispanic
men and women.
South
American heroin now accounts for half of the drug arrests
in Burlington, Vt., the home town of Ben and Jerry's
ice cream. All along the East Coast, addicts clamour
for doses that sell for as little as $4 and as much
as $40. In almost every case, the drug found a foothold
in a local or nearby Hispanic community before spreading.
In
Philadelphia, the typical addict used to be a middle-aged
black male. Then, about five years ago, inexpensive
South American heroin arrived first in the city's Hispanic
community.
`Today,
the user population . . . covers all the socio-economic
demographics,' said Inspector Jeremiah Daley, head of
the Philadelphia Police Department's narcotics unit.
The department makes more than 4,000 heroin arrests
a year. `Young, white suburban housewives are becoming
as common as middle-aged African-American males.'
Orlando's
heroin outbreak attracted notoriety four years ago when
non- Hispanic teenagers began dying from the drug. But
in the years since, more has been learned, particularly
about how dealers first left deep and lasting wounds
in the local Hispanic community.
Hispanics
hit hardest
At
most 20 per cent of Orange County's population, Hispanics
today account for nearly 70 per cent of all heroin-related
arrests and up to 40 per cent of heroin deaths.
That
contrasts strongly with the long-established patterns
of cocaine and marijuana use. Both of those drugs have
been around for generations and are used by a broad
cross-section of the population.
There
is great reluctance in the law-enforcement community
to talk about ethnic background when analysing the spread
of drug abuse. Police are afraid they will be perceived
as targeting ethnic or racial groups for enforcement.
But the cycle of victimisation is so undeniable that
the Office of National Drug Control Policy cites it
as a major factor in Greater Orlando's growing heroin
trade.
`These
local drug-trafficking organisations are generally organised
along ethnic or racial origins, often recruiting members
of the same ethnic background. These DTOs then distribute
to groups and persons who reflect the broad spectrum
of the population of Central Florida,' states a report
released by the White House in mid-December. `Colombian,
Puerto Rican and Dominican DTOs are the primary sources
of supply of heroin in the Central Florida . . . region.'
The
White House group analyses the drug trade worldwide
and consults with federal, state and local law enforcement
on how to stop it. Four years ago, after an investigation
by The Orlando Sentinel, congressional hearings
were held here on the smuggling of South American heroin
through Puerto Rico and into Orlando. Central Florida
was classified later as a High Intensity Drug Trafficking
Area and nearly $1 million in additional federal drug-fighting
money was channelled here.
Dealing
dope, drug experts say, is like any other start-up business.
Vendors feel most comfortable selling to customers they
know and understand. So it was not surprising that Colombian
heroin producers sought Spanish-speaking partners to
market the drug in the United States.
Some
critics claim that police overlook non-Hispanic addicts
in Orlando to pick on Puerto Ricans, Dominicans and
Colombians. But that argument has fewer and fewer supporters.
`I
do not think it's prejudice,' said state Rep. Anthony
Suarez, D-Orlando. `I just think it's the natural course
of the drug trade. . . . It's incumbent on us as Latinos
to stop it. It's destroying our children and our community.'
Three
years ago, Suarez, a criminal defence attorney, helped
organise a march in Orlando by 6,000 Hispanic residents
to protest, in large part, press reports in the Sentinel
that linked local heroin abuse to the drugs smuggled
from Colombia through Puerto Rico.
Now,
Suarez wants the Hispanic community to confront the
issue head-on.
Most
Hispanics are not users
Drug
users represent a tiny fraction of the 300,000 Hispanics
in Central Florida. Addiction may affect just one of
every 50 area Hispanic families, Suarez said. But it
will take candlelight vigils and church outreach programs,
he said, to spread the word.
Pastor
Angel Rosado of Longwood's Iglesia Renacimiento Crisitano
(Born-Again Christian Church) knows what the cycle of
heroin abuse produces. A former addict, he grew up in
New Bedford, Mass., where heroin was a long-time fixture
that had spread throughout the area.
`It's
just destroying the community in general,' Rosado said.
`This is the first time I've really seen it related
to Hispanics,' he said last week. `When I got introduced
to the problem, it wasn't a Puerto Rican problem. It
was a people problem. When I was doing drugs, I was
doing it with everybody─blacks, Hispanics and
whites.'
He
sees the signs that Central Florida is catching up.
`If
we don't do something . . . to help our community, it
is going to spread throughout all of Orlando,' Rosado
said.
And
that, said Rosado and many others, means getting much
more vocal about the problem. Heroin abuse remains a
little-discussed secret for many families.
`It's
part of the denial system. You don't bring out your
dirty laundry for everybody to see,' said Dr Pedro Gonzalez,
a psychologist who has treated addicts for 38 years
in Puerto Rico, New York City and Orlando. `That's not
only Hispanics. That's with every race. They don't want
to talk about it.'
Since
1996, the Orlando office of the Drug Enforcement Administration
arrested nearly 200 people on heroin-dealing charges.
All but 12 were Hispanics, according to federal court
records and interviews.
`That's
where the heroin is,' said Julio Cuevas, a counsellor
at the Centre for Drug Free Living in Orlando. `I don't
see it as a racial thing, I just see it as the truth.
. . . If the problem was Chinese, I'd say the same thing.'
Until
1993-94, the typical heroin addict in Orlando was a
middle-aged, non-Hispanic man who had become hooked
somewhere else─in New York City, New England or
Chicago. Others were holdovers from the 1970s and early
1980s─the days when heroin was last known to have
been sold here.
South
American dope
That
was before South American dope began to pour in. Rosemary
McNally, a nurse who helped found Central Florida's
first clinic in 1985, remembers how the clientele suddenly
changed.
`It
just tripled overnight about four years ago,' McNally
said.
The
change came in 1995 when a few enterprising dealers
began working the nightclubs. Until then, heroin dealers
had avoided non-Spanish speaking customers, according
to interviews, state and federal court records.
By
1996, the first young, non-Hispanic addicts began seeking
treatment, McNally said. Ranging in age from 18 to 25,
the men and women told counsellors they'd come in contact
with the drug in downtown Orlando nightclubs. That year,
the Sentinel reported on six deaths of teenagers
from heroin overdoses.
Now
the pace of change is accelerating. Drug abuse is spreading
through the community. Of dozens of methadone clients
interviewed, more than half were not Hispanic.
Yet
their presence is still not reflected in arrest data.
Only one of those non-Hispanic addicts had ever been
arrested on a heroin-related charge. They avoided arrest
because they didn't hang around the heroin hot spots─Semoran
Boulevard, South Orange Blossom Trail and International
Drive. Instead, they did business by cell phone and
pager in suburban neighbourhoods where police pressure
is low.
Many
did business unnoticed in apartment complexes that cater
to 20-something tenants. They belong to the second-fastest-growing
group─after Hispanics─of addicts entering
methadone treatment in area clinics.
More
evidence of heroin's widening grip came last month at
Orlando's biggest drug sting. Investigators arrested
50 people─14 of them on charges of heroin dealing.
The overall group included six non-Hispanics and seven
blacks, an unusual diversity.
And
agents said they saw dozens of non-Hispanics lining
up to buy heroin during the eight-month investigation.
They included what cops call `crossover dealers'─non-Hispanic
addicts buying up to 100 doses to resell far from police
scrutiny.
`The
more powerful the addiction, the more likely someone
is to start dealing to support their habits,' Orange
County sheriffs drug Lt Mike Miller said after the 10
December 1999 arrests. `That's why you probably see
a slow movement to Anglos and more non-traditional heroin
users.'
Everyone's
problem
As
the new millennium begins, heroin is becoming everyone's
problem.
`A
lot of white kids my age are doing it,' said a 20-year-old
from Seminole County, who sold dope for two years, mostly
to friends from high school.
Another
former dealer agreed. `From what I see right now, Orlando
is going to be one of the worst places in the country,'
said the man, who sold in Puerto Rico and New York before
moving to Orlando. `In the next few years, it is going
to be all the same. The white guys are starting to come
out.'
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