MISSOURI WATCH: TAKE THE DRUG WAR TO THE ENEMY

A few years ago I spent a 12-hour workday with the then-mayor of St. Louis, the purpose of which was to detail for column readers the hectic and demanding schedule followed by the chief executive of one of Missouri's large cities. The long day started uncomfortably early and proceeded well past the evening dinner period, far earlier and far later than 99 percent of the mayor's constituents.

The uncomfortableness of the early hours, however, was nothing when compared to the embarrassment suffered by His Honor when, in mid-afternoon, he ordered his driver to detour through one of the least desirable residential areas of his city. "I want you to see," he said, beaming with enthusiasm and pride, "how we have cleaned up this neighborhood, restoring abandoned housing and driving the illegal vendors from their corners where they sold every kind of drugs to young kids."

Approaching one street corner in the "restored and rejuvenated" neighborhood, I spotted two persons engaged in what seemed to be some form of illicit commerce. "What are those two guys doing?" I asked, although moments later it became painfully obvious what was occurring: a drug purchase was going down. Worse, the purchase was being made in broad daylight on a busy street corner, less than a block from a parked police car occupied by two officers who, unfortunately, were diverted from duty by a mid-afternoon repast of coffee and doughnuts.

It would be totally inaccurate to say the mayor was pleased by this real-life drama taking place in an allegedly drug-free neighborhood. It would, however, be accurate to say the incident contributed its proportionate share to the disillusionment harbored by many public officials who have fought (and lost) Missouri's war on drugs for more than three decades.

At the same time that every law enforcement agency in our state is working around the clock to stem the sale and use of illegal drugs, another war is occurring in Jefferson City, this one dealing with a directly correlated problem: providing sufficient cells for a prison population that is increasing at a rate undreamed of only two years ago.

In his State of the State address in January, Gov. Mel Carnahan surprised his legislative audience by recommending two new prisons to handle a seemingly never ending stream of convicted criminals from throughout the state to the care and custody of the Department of Corrections. In terms of escalating numbers, we're really talking more about a deluge than a stream. Furthermore, the governor's figures are correct: the state will need to build two additional prisons if it intends to handle the projected number of new convicts expected by the end of 1999. Editorial writers and columnists across the state have bemoaned this expenditure, but regardless of the rhetoric, facts are facts, and there appears to be no way of escaping them.

Having closed the door on any rational course of action, let me open it a crack, if you'll pardon the pun. The basic reason for this devastating onslaught can be traced to the scene the mayor and I witnessed on a neighborhood street corner: the pervasiveness of illegal drugs in every large and small community in Missouri and every other state in the country.

America has been waging its latest (but certainly not its first) war on drugs for half a century. Our policies, as well as our results, have been predictable. We would stem the supply of drugs and punish those who illegally used them. These were the same tactics that characterized America's great experiment of Prohibition: stop the supply and punish the users. We suppose most know who won that national mobilization, and we presume Americans don't want these results repeated.

Drugs are appealing to some because they offer a release from the painful consequences of modern life, and appealing to others because the trade provides them with a profitable vocation that requires little or no training. Surely we have learned by now that cutting off the supply of one drug provides an impetus to find another and another and another. There are no time-outs in this battle because there is an insatiable demand for more, and this moral vacuum exists despite the efforts of government to end it.

The solution, more easily offered than realized, is to end the demand, but this cannot occur without offering trained counseling, without readily available and accessible treatment centers and without full support and funding. The most logical answer is to provide drug treatment assistance not in some building at a state mental hospital, but in neighborhood units that serve the affected population. As Dr. Bill Menninger observed years ago, "Give me the staff and I will treat addicts anywhere." And he meant in neighborhood store fronts, public institutions, church basements, even on street corners.

Had Missouri begun building neighborhood drug treatment centers in affected neighborhoods when the state constructed its first-in-a-series of prisons, we might have begun to notice a decline in the growth of crime, addiction and illegal trafficking. By making these units readily available, 24 hours a day, we emulate the successful merchandising efforts of the pushers. In crowded areas, we install fire hydrants throughout any property we want to save. If we want to protect our neighborhoods from the destruction of illegal drugs, we will make well-staffed neighborhood treatment centers readily available to anyone at any time.

We will win this destructive war when we end the demand for drugs. We will not end it until those creating it receive rapid, accessible, competent counseling and treatment, and we will not provide such treatment until we take the war to the enemy in the form of neighborhood clinics. At the very least, Missouri should build twice as many neighborhood drug clinics as new prisons---at one percent of the cost. Guess what? Missouri's drug treatment budget for next year is being reduced!

Jack Stapleton of kennett is the editor of Missouri News and Editorial Service.