Series shows 'scourge' thrives on being ignored

When it comes to information about drugs, it is hard to find much credibility anywhere.

Since at least as far back as the laughably alarmist movie "Reefer Madness" - a 1930s anti-marijuana propaganda film - drug users have believed they could trust the husky sales pitch whispered over their shoulder as much as anything dished out by government, schools, medical clinics, newspapers or anything else that might qualify as one of society's established institutions.

So what makes us think our series "The Hidden Scourge: Heroin and club drugs in the suburbs" will be any different? Perhaps nothing. If the series proves anything, it is that people interested in using drugs will not be dissuaded by something so trifling as a newspaper article. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.

Indeed, the stories our reporters have been hearing during the last couple of years seemed to demand some response, however feeble, to dispel lingering myths and to present an accurate depiction of the impact drugs are having beneath the surface structure of families and communities in the suburbs. To many reporters, tales of robberies turned violent, parties spiraling out of control and teenagers injured and dying were growing more frequent, and the source of many of the problems increasingly revived a term that once struck fear even in the heart of the most devoted pot-head: heroin.No longer did heroin seem the province just of the occasional street-dwelling junkie or rowdy celebrity. It was becoming the recreational drug of choice for an increasing number of average, middle-class suburban kids. And, alongside it repeatedly came a term straight from a Madison Avenue adcampaign, right down to the capitalization: Ecstasy.

Involvement of the drugs often seemed all but a foregone conclusion in many situations involving police, emergency personnel and medical examiners. Yet, the terms seemed rarely to float to the surface of serious public dialogue or common conversation.

They must, thought our editors and reporters, or the situation will only grow worse. Thus began a months-long string of interviews, inquiries and clandestine field trips aimed at describing the mechanics, and consequences, of the drug culture.

When it came time to report, there were pitfalls you might not think much about. We were committed to using sources' real identities as much as possible, for instance, and agreed to conceal names or restrict ourselves to first names only if we felt the information offered was crucial to telling the story.

We also walked a sometimes-extremely-fine line to accurately describe the allure of the drugs without making them sound enticing enough to try. And, we sought a similar balancing point at the other end - aiming to describe their emotional, physical and sociological consequences realistically without demonizing them so intensely that the stories come off as trite propaganda.

The sales pitch that keeps attracting customers for the dangerous-drug industry survives on two basic notions. One: "Go ahead and try it. Something this good can't be that bad." And, two: "Even if it can be that bad, that's what happens to others, not to people like you."

Our series taught at least two lessons regarding those notions. The results of dangerous behavior can be that bad, and they do happen - with increasing frequency - to people you know and love.Are there solutions? We found some. Are there protections? Not many. But one common thread runs through all stages of the problem - the need for communication. That starts with the newspaper, politicians, churches and social organizations openly confronting the issue. And, it remains important on every level down to that of parent-to-child and friend-to-friend.

You may think that the drug subculture is not that prevalent. You may think that what in my day we would have scorned as The Establishment - the newspapers, the churches, the government, the schools, our parents - has blown the situation out of proportion. You may think you've heard it all before over the past four decades. If you do, read our series again. You can find it online at our Web site, www.dailyherald.com. I think it will quickly become obvious that none of us has yet heard it enough.