Heroin Use Has Toehold in Kearny
This report is unfortunately devoid of statistics and numbers to back it up, as the sources for them felt it was in their interest not to release them. That no one wishes to discuss this subject is part of the problem. What is left then are contacts with people willing to talk and simple observation. It is apparent that an insidious curse has a toehold in Kearny, and has for some time. Heroin addiction is destroying lives everyday in our town, and the ripple effect can be seen if one is willing to look. The burglaries that take place in town surely are one of the negative consequences of this problem. There is also a growing homeless population, people sleeping on benches and in doorways till they are chased to a different location. How can this be going on and continue without people taking notice. How can a thriving heroin trade take place in our town without the arrest of a big distributor? If you scratch just under the surface you can find some answers. On any given morning the number 39 bus runs down Kearny Avenue on its way to Newark. If you pay close attention, you would know that not everyone on that bus is on their way to work. Those caught in the trap of addiction get on the bus to get their morning "fix". In the parlance of the addict, they need to get off "E" (empty). Heroin addiction is a disease, an illness that makes one sick as surely as cancer. Usually there is an underlying mental illness that the person is attempting to self medicate. After a certain amount of time using heroin, the addict uses the drug not to feel different, but to feel normal. About eight hours after their last dose, withdrawal symptoms start to take hold. As the morphine leaves its site in the receptors of the brain, there is nothing to replace it. This triggers a very specific physiological response from the body. The person will be in pain, especially an aching of the muscles. Vomiting and diarrhea are another response, as is a runny nose and flu like symptoms. There is some debate as to whether withdrawal is life threatening, but the major consensus is that it is not. However, it is very unpleasant for the person experiencing it and can last for a week or more. The easiest relief then is obviously another dose of heroin. That is why the back of the bus is occupied by people in physical and mental distress. For 7 to 10 dollars they can get that "fix" which, for a brief period, will bring some relief. Just where do they get this drug? The addicts will tell you that for the most part heroin is not sold in Kearny. It has been suggested that this army of the addicted showing up at the same house or location every morning would surely bring suspicion and would be promptly shut down by local police. The City of Newark is another story. Newark is like a heroin bazaar in North Jersey. Almost every housing project has several dealers plying their wares. Heroin is usually sold in a small glassine bag, and the dealers stamp them with their particular "logo" to distinguish it from the others. The price is usually $10 but sometimes they can be had for as little as $7. Unfortunately, the price is dropping. There are so many dealers that a "price war" is being waged. The strength of their product has also increased. Whereas in the past heroin was usually injected intravenously, the drug today is strong enough that sniffing it can now produce the desired effect. This makes it more palatable to those who in the past would not even think of injecting themselves with a needle.
The Newark Police Department has tried to dissuade this wave of out-of-towners coming to their city for narcotics, but it is almost impossible to stop. They cannot be everywhere at once, and the dealers have learned evasive actions, using lookouts and spotters. Some have gone high-tech, employing cell phones and using scanners. It would not be far fetched to say that the Newark P.D. would have to double in size to even attempt to stop the drug trade.
There are other solutions to this problem, and some have been employed with success. Treatment for the addicted is a way of cutting demand as opposed to attacking the supply. This comes with a set of problems, but they can be overcome. Putting a patient into a medical detox setting is one way to treat people. Recently, drugs have become available, buprenorphine being one, which drastically reduces the effects of withdrawal. After 3 or 4 days of detox, the patient must be moved to a drug free setting and take part in a recovery program. The problem with this solution is that it is expensive, and most addicts do not have insurance. There are beds available for the indigent, but the addict must go on a waiting list of up to 3 months. Obviously, one must be committed to recovery to go this route. It is not a quick fix and takes a lot of work on the part of the patient. Another road from the use of heroin is to enroll the patient in a methadone treatment center. Methadone is a very misunderstood treatment that has been used successfully for decades now. The patient replaces his addiction to the morphine in heroin, which is quickly processed by the system, for methadone, which metabolizes much more slowly. A single dose in the morning and the patient can function all day without the experience of withdrawal. Methadone in no way gets the patient "high", and in fact blocks the euphoric effects of heroin, making it somewhat senseless to use it. It is distributed under a controlled setting and the patient is now in an environment conducive to recovery. Therapy is part of the program, and many addicts can move on to a productive life once they are stabilized and away from the world of the addict, which is pretty much a full time endeavor. Those using heroin spend most of their time not so much doing the drug, but looking for ways to get it and keep getting it. Methadone strips this away, and allows the patient to focus on positive experiences like job skill training and general life skills that have all but been replaced by addiction. Once a patient is stabilized on methadone they can opt to slowly withdrawal from the drug, in a controlled way so as not to experience withdrawals. Some patients opt for a "maintenance" program, where they stay on a dose just high enough to keep them from desiring heroin. There are other treatment methods, some promising "rapid detox" but they are not as well tested and there have been some mishaps that have thrown a negative light on them. There was one case in New Jersey where a doctor was providing rapid opiate detox treatment and several of the patients died when released to relatives without medical supervision. This is why most experts prefer the more traditional approaches.
That no one in a position of authority would respond to the question of this subject speaks volumes. This is a problem that is not going away, no matter who hides their head in the sand. As a society we must approach this problem openly. Many politicians pay lip service to "the war on drugs" with cute little mottos like "just say no" but it is time to say yes. Yes to confronting this problem and yes to guiding the afflicted into treatment. This should no longer be a dirty little secret. Let us meet this problem head on with victory as our goal. Any less and shame on us.
James J. Calautti
As I investigated this story I got to know many of the people who are in this unfortunate predicament. One of those people I will call "Joe" for the sake of anonymity. Joe lost his job as a carpenter and the financial problems put a stress on his marriage. He was soon divorced without a place to stay. Unfortunately he turned to alchohol and drugs to escape his problems. They only made them worse. I may have taken some poetic license, but here is what Joe's daily life is like.
"A DAY IN THE LIFE..."
The bus moves way too slowly for me this morning as we cross the river into the city and inch our way downtown. I gaze impatiently out the window, lamenting the predicament I was now in. Every muscle in my body aches and I am reeling from waves of nausea that wash over me and pound me like a tiny boat on the open sea. Gratefully I exit the bus into the chilled morning air of Lincoln Park. I light a cigarette and take some wobbly steps across the damp grass. I dodge my way across Broad Street and now my pace quickens as I anticipate my destination which harbors the relief I so desperately seek. Economic upturns never took a detour to this end of town, the empty rubble strewn lots a vacant monument to the broken promises of the many politicians who simply took the money and ran. I cross under a trestle as a commuter train screams over top, the harsh sounds amplified in my spinning head. Damn, that was loud. I quickly close the distance between me and the housing project that I have become so familiar with. Please I pray, no cops today. The blaring rap from a boom box quickly dispels that fear, ah yes, the boys are out. As I step into the courtyard a woman comes running towards me from a darkened doorway, screaming incoherently, her arms flailing wildly above her head. She looks like a deranged chimpanzee, chasing off an un wanted mate. She mumbles something about spare change but I brush past her brusquely, as I have no time for nonsense this morning. The only lady I'm here to see goes by the name of "Smack". I haggle over the price of a few bags with "Big Daddy", who I spied holding court with his "posse" in a shadowy corner of the projects. I walk away triumphantly after he agrees to my lowball price; business must be slow this morning. I fumble clumsily with the glassine bag in my rush to get at its contents. I take a snort and a comforting warmth gently blankets my body. Now peace and serenity encase me in their cocoon, and at least for a short time everything is right with the world again. I easily see the draw here for the urban poor, as the poverty and hopelessness of the projects are blasted away in an instant. For me it's an emotional poverty that needs numbing. When I walked into these projects everything was cold and grey. Now I feel warm and find beauty in the most inane things; the way the light splays off the broken glass on the concrete, the colorful graffiti on the red brick canvass of the housing units. Where was this beauty before? Hidden and then unlocked by some chemical reaction in my brain? Whatever the cause I'm momentarily pleased with the results. I exit through a side parking lot and hit the street with unbridled energy, singing out loud as I cut through the thick aromas of the bodegas and espresso shops that dot this neighborhood. The traffic this morning matches me in energy as drivers blow their horns and curse and gesticulate at each other. I share none of their anger though, I am at peace. How did that song go? "I can see clearly now the pain is gone, all of the bad feelings have disappeared". Sums it up nicely. However, therein lies the problem, for the same medicine that cures the pain is also the cause of it. Quite a paradox I've become locked into, and like a Pavlovian dog I'll do it all again tomorrow.
The Newark Police Department has tried to dissuade this wave of out-of-towners coming to their city for narcotics, but it is almost impossible to stop. They cannot be everywhere at once, and the dealers have learned evasive actions, using lookouts and spotters. Some have gone high-tech, employing cell phones and using scanners. It would not be far fetched to say that the Newark P.D. would have to double in size to even attempt to stop the drug trade.
There are other solutions to this problem, and some have been employed with success. Treatment for the addicted is a way of cutting demand as opposed to attacking the supply. This comes with a set of problems, but they can be overcome. Putting a patient into a medical detox setting is one way to treat people. Recently, drugs have become available, buprenorphine being one, which drastically reduces the effects of withdrawal. After 3 or 4 days of detox, the patient must be moved to a drug free setting and take part in a recovery program. The problem with this solution is that it is expensive, and most addicts do not have insurance. There are beds available for the indigent, but the addict must go on a waiting list of up to 3 months. Obviously, one must be committed to recovery to go this route. It is not a quick fix and takes a lot of work on the part of the patient. Another road from the use of heroin is to enroll the patient in a methadone treatment center. Methadone is a very misunderstood treatment that has been used successfully for decades now. The patient replaces his addiction to the morphine in heroin, which is quickly processed by the system, for methadone, which metabolizes much more slowly. A single dose in the morning and the patient can function all day without the experience of withdrawal. Methadone in no way gets the patient "high", and in fact blocks the euphoric effects of heroin, making it somewhat senseless to use it. It is distributed under a controlled setting and the patient is now in an environment conducive to recovery. Therapy is part of the program, and many addicts can move on to a productive life once they are stabilized and away from the world of the addict, which is pretty much a full time endeavor. Those using heroin spend most of their time not so much doing the drug, but looking for ways to get it and keep getting it. Methadone strips this away, and allows the patient to focus on positive experiences like job skill training and general life skills that have all but been replaced by addiction. Once a patient is stabilized on methadone they can opt to slowly withdrawal from the drug, in a controlled way so as not to experience withdrawals. Some patients opt for a "maintenance" program, where they stay on a dose just high enough to keep them from desiring heroin. There are other treatment methods, some promising "rapid detox" but they are not as well tested and there have been some mishaps that have thrown a negative light on them. There was one case in New Jersey where a doctor was providing rapid opiate detox treatment and several of the patients died when released to relatives without medical supervision. This is why most experts prefer the more traditional approaches.
That no one in a position of authority would respond to the question of this subject speaks volumes. This is a problem that is not going away, no matter who hides their head in the sand. As a society we must approach this problem openly. Many politicians pay lip service to "the war on drugs" with cute little mottos like "just say no" but it is time to say yes. Yes to confronting this problem and yes to guiding the afflicted into treatment. This should no longer be a dirty little secret. Let us meet this problem head on with victory as our goal. Any less and shame on us.
James J. Calautti
As I investigated this story I got to know many of the people who are in this unfortunate predicament. One of those people I will call "Joe" for the sake of anonymity. Joe lost his job as a carpenter and the financial problems put a stress on his marriage. He was soon divorced without a place to stay. Unfortunately he turned to alchohol and drugs to escape his problems. They only made them worse. I may have taken some poetic license, but here is what Joe's daily life is like.
"A DAY IN THE LIFE..."
The bus moves way too slowly for me this morning as we cross the river into the city and inch our way downtown. I gaze impatiently out the window, lamenting the predicament I was now in. Every muscle in my body aches and I am reeling from waves of nausea that wash over me and pound me like a tiny boat on the open sea. Gratefully I exit the bus into the chilled morning air of Lincoln Park. I light a cigarette and take some wobbly steps across the damp grass. I dodge my way across Broad Street and now my pace quickens as I anticipate my destination which harbors the relief I so desperately seek. Economic upturns never took a detour to this end of town, the empty rubble strewn lots a vacant monument to the broken promises of the many politicians who simply took the money and ran. I cross under a trestle as a commuter train screams over top, the harsh sounds amplified in my spinning head. Damn, that was loud. I quickly close the distance between me and the housing project that I have become so familiar with. Please I pray, no cops today. The blaring rap from a boom box quickly dispels that fear, ah yes, the boys are out. As I step into the courtyard a woman comes running towards me from a darkened doorway, screaming incoherently, her arms flailing wildly above her head. She looks like a deranged chimpanzee, chasing off an un wanted mate. She mumbles something about spare change but I brush past her brusquely, as I have no time for nonsense this morning. The only lady I'm here to see goes by the name of "Smack". I haggle over the price of a few bags with "Big Daddy", who I spied holding court with his "posse" in a shadowy corner of the projects. I walk away triumphantly after he agrees to my lowball price; business must be slow this morning. I fumble clumsily with the glassine bag in my rush to get at its contents. I take a snort and a comforting warmth gently blankets my body. Now peace and serenity encase me in their cocoon, and at least for a short time everything is right with the world again. I easily see the draw here for the urban poor, as the poverty and hopelessness of the projects are blasted away in an instant. For me it's an emotional poverty that needs numbing. When I walked into these projects everything was cold and grey. Now I feel warm and find beauty in the most inane things; the way the light splays off the broken glass on the concrete, the colorful graffiti on the red brick canvass of the housing units. Where was this beauty before? Hidden and then unlocked by some chemical reaction in my brain? Whatever the cause I'm momentarily pleased with the results. I exit through a side parking lot and hit the street with unbridled energy, singing out loud as I cut through the thick aromas of the bodegas and espresso shops that dot this neighborhood. The traffic this morning matches me in energy as drivers blow their horns and curse and gesticulate at each other. I share none of their anger though, I am at peace. How did that song go? "I can see clearly now the pain is gone, all of the bad feelings have disappeared". Sums it up nicely. However, therein lies the problem, for the same medicine that cures the pain is also the cause of it. Quite a paradox I've become locked into, and like a Pavlovian dog I'll do it all again tomorrow.
posted by James at 7:59 AM
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