MDMA
Pills: Children As Young As 12 and 13 Found Using EcstasySunday, July 22, 2001
By Tara Kane and Leslie Koren
When Jay "rolls," he prefers all-night raves in Manhattan, where the trancelike atmosphere is stoked by thumping beats and neon glow sticks waved in the air.
But when the Ramsey High School 16-year-old doesn't have the $20 admission, he is content to roll -- or get high on Ecstasy -- hanging out with his friends on the streets of Ridgewood.
"If I can't do [Ecstasy] at a rave, I'll just walk around the avenue," he said. "It doesn't matter where you are -- you're going to have fun."
Jay usually needs two Ecstasy tablets to satisfy a growing appetite that began last year. But the pills cost $20 each, so he borrows the money from his mother.
Ecstasy is no longer strictly a drug used by clubgoers in their 20s and 30s or college-age ravers. Also known as "X" or "E," it is fueling high-school students on boardwalks at the Jersey Shore, on suburban streets, and at impromptu house parties held when parents leave town.
"It's a real peer-pressure drug," said Andrew, 17, of Ridgewood, who said he has rolled more than a dozen times in the last several months. "When you see friends doing it and how happy they are, you want to try it."
"I do Ecstasy to connect with my friends," said Tom, 18, of Upper Saddle River.
Users say Ecstasy removes inhibitions and anxiety. Dubbed the "love drug" or "hug drug," it heightens sensations so that lights become brighter, the slightest touch feels intense, and music's rhythms are magnified. It also supplies seemingly endless energy.
Sara, 17, said she often takes Ecstasy at roving house parties in Ridgewood and Old Tappan when her friends' parents are on vacation. With the help of a CD player and some glow sticks, the house becomes an all-night rave.
Sara enjoys the flickering of the green glow sticks, as dancers move their hands rapidly in time with the fast-paced, syncopated "techno" music.
"When I'm on Ecstasy, lights never stop to amaze me," she said, describing her favorite "bug-out" toy, an electronic pinwheel. "The music feels so good. It's like it's under my skin, and my whole body can feel the little notes."
Although statistics show that teenage drug use has generally fallen or remained level since 1995, use of Ecstasy is increasing.
A federal survey found that use of MDMA -- the abbreviated chemical name for Ecstasy -- was up almost 50 percent among high school seniors last year from 1999 -- jumping from 5.6 percent of 12th-graders to 8 percent.
"It's the stealth drug amidst all the falling drug use," said Dr. Alan I. Leshner, director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse in Bethesda, Md. "We're seeing a precipitous rise. Parents should be concerned."
Abuse of the mildly hallucinogenic stimulant is still relatively new, so little is known about long-term effects. Because the short-term reactions are often mild -- among them, dehydration, tremors, and nausea -- many users shrug off concern.
Leshner, however, said research has shown that Ecstasy use can impair memory, alter moods, and in some cases lead to death.
"Because there's been a great glorification of the drug, there's a belief that this is a harmless, fun drug, which it's not," he said. "The scientific community is very clear: This is a dangerous substance even in the short term for many people."
New Jersey has announced an education campaign to warn of Ecstasy's dangers. But authorities acknowledge that they're fighting an uphill battle.
In the summer of 1999, undercover police officers at the Jersey Shore saw grown men sucking pacifiers and playing with glow sticks as they danced for hours in the area's hottest nightclubs.
Ecstasy had arrived.
In less than two years, use of the drug has spread. Now, kids as young as 12 and 13 are taking it, as are their older brothers and sisters -- and not only at raves and clubs.
"This is an anywhere/anytime party drug now," said Ocean County First Assistant Prosecutor Terrence Farley, one of the state's Ecstasy experts.
"There is a large group of people whose socializing involves using these drugs," said Detective Keith Delaney of the Bergen County Narcotics Task Force.
In April, Bergen task force investigators arrested two men in Wallington on charges of offering to sell undercover officers 8,000 yellow and purple Ecstasy pills, each imprinted with a smiley face.
"When that arrest came, we realized that it's a lot bigger than we even thought," said Wallington Police Director Anthony F. Benevento.
In December, Passaic County authorities seized 100,000 Ecstasy pills from a Union City man as he stepped from a limousine. Police linked him to 15,000 additional pills and five other men, including one from Clifton, who are believed to be part of a large Ecstasy distribution ring.
Last Tuesday, police seized an estimated 1 million Ecstasy pills in a Manhattan studio apartment rented by two Israeli nationals. New York City Police
Commissioner Bernard Kerik put the tablets' street value at $20 million to $40 million, and said the seizure probably would affect North Jersey's drug market.
"If there is a load like this taken off the streets, New Jersey is going to feel it," Kerik said.
"I'd love to say this seizure will stifle the trade for six months or a year," Farley said. 'But anybody who knows about this would just laugh at that."
Although Ecstasy made its name at all-night underground parties known as raves, the drug and its paraphernalia -- pacifiers, candy necklaces, lollipops, and water bottles -- have found younger users.
"You don't have any worries. Your mind is clear," said Kristen, a 16-year-old from Wayne Hills High School who likes to roll at the Sound Factory, a Manhattan dance club. "When you are on Ecstasy, everything makes you happy."
"With Ecstasy, you peak after three hours, come down a bit, then peak again," said Andrew, one of the Ridgewood teenagers. "You roll up and down -- that's why they call it rolling."
"Ecstasy is a good day times a hundred," said Jay, who rolls on any weekend that he has the $40 to spare. "When you do E, it's the best day of your life."
Known chemically as MDMA, Ecstasy was first produced in 1912 by a German drug company as a possible appetite suppressant, but it was never marketed to the public.
In the 1970s, psychotherapists in California began giving it to their patients as a therapeutic tool to increase openness during sessions. In some cases, they took it with the patients to create a stronger bond.
Use spread and Ecstasy made its way to the Texas club scene in the early 1980s, prompting a movement by federal lawmakers to ban it. In 1985, the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration classified Ecstasy as a drug with a high likelihood for abuse.
Around the same time, Ecstasy use began skyrocketing in Europe. Dealers there originally called it "Empathy," but the name never resonated with users.
About 95 percent of Ecstasy is produced in Western Europe -- primarily in the Netherlands, where the makers are able to smuggle in large quantities of the necessary chemicals, all of which are banned in the United States.
In the early 1990s, dealers saw an untapped market in the United States and began importing Ecstasy through Miami, Los Angeles, New York, and Newark, Farley said.
Bergen County's Narcotics Task Force made its first Ecstasy-related arrest in 1997. Its first significant seizure came a year later, when investigators seized 3,200 pills in hand cream containers sent from Belgium to a Manhattan bar bouncer who lived in Cliffside Park.
The arrest foreshadowed much of what police would eventually learn about Ecstasy's journey into mainstream use throughout New Jersey.
Manhattan clubs provided a ready supply of potential users, and club promoters, many from New Jersey, helped push the drug, Delaney said.
When New York police began cracking down on the clubs, he said, "the kids returned to the suburbs and started the scene out there -- at clubs down the Shore, in Middlesex County, at rave parties."
Police along the Jersey Shore were already fighting GHB, a depressant in liquid or powder form that can produce feelings of euphoria or, when taken in excess, induce blackouts. It is also known as the "date rape" drug because of documented cases in which sexual predators spiked women's drinks.
In 1997 and 1998, reports indicated that GHB was sweeping through the Jersey Shore region, Farley said. Stricter laws and increased enforcement followed, and the problem seemed to ease, he said.
Then came Ecstasy.
Over the 1999 Memorial Day weekend, emergency room doctors reported dozens of drug-related overdoses. Some had taken GHB or ketamine, an animal tranquilizer better known as Special K. Others had used Ecstasy.
Some of those overdosing on Ecstasy had to be restrained because of hallucinations, physicians said. Nearly all sweated profusely or suffered from spikes in body temperature of up to 107 degrees.
In response, three female undercover officers hit the Jersey Shore clubs. Working primarily Thursday and Saturday nights, they posed as ravers.
"We did the whole scene," said Andrea Craparotta, a detective with the Middlesex County Prosecutor's Office, then on loan to the DEA.
Craparotta had worked undercover in clubs for about 10 years -- buying cocaine, speed, whatever drug was popular at the time. But the Ecstasy subculture was like nothing she had experienced.
"Generally the kids were very, very healthy-looking," she said. "These kids looked like all-American kids: clean-cut, short hair, well-kept."
They also wore pacifiers around their necks and drank seemingly endless quantities of water -- not alcohol. Most sweated profusely.
Ecstasy users often clench their teeth uncontrollably, and pacifiers provide a measure of protection. They also quickly become overheated and parched. A steady replenishment of water is critical.
The detectives didn't know the dances. So on their first night in the clubs, they jumped up and down, trying to mimic the ravers.
"These kids would not stop moving," Craparotta said. "They have this incredible amount of energy."
The task force made 29 arrests that summer, some at the clubs and others after working the alleged offenders to find dealers, Farley said.
That was only a prelude of what was to come.
This year's Memorial Day holiday turned busy for one Paramus dealer.
He was originally supposed to meet Jay's friend at the food court in the Garden State Plaza. But business kept him grounded and forced the young buyers to go to him.
One of them called him from the mall.
"We need three. Do you have any extra?" she asked, increasing a prior request to accommodate some friends.
The dealer gave her directions to his house. He also gave her instructions: She and Andrew -- the other familiar face -- would be allowed to come in. The unknowns -- Jay and his friend, Frank -- had to stay at a distance, even though the pills would be for them.
As they neared the house, the girl asked her friends to park around the block.
Fifteen minutes later, she and Andrew came out. They took so long, they said, because they'd been smoking marijuana with the dealer.
But her friends didn't seem to mind. "If you want to buy Ecstasy, you really need to have connections," Jay said.
Back in Ridgewood, they distributed the drugs behind a local eatery where friends were hanging out. Andrew, who had the Ecstasy tablets, greeted Jay with a handshake. That was the exchange -- in a public parking lot as patrons of the business walked to and from their cars.
From Ridgewood and Ramsey, the four teenagers looked like average high school students -- perhaps slightly better dressed, in jeans and Abercrombie & Fitch logo shirts. No passers-by noticed as the drug changed hands.
A moment later, Jay opened his fist to examine his purchase. He saw three chalky white pills in a dime-sized plastic bag. Each was stamped with the head of the Tasmanian Devil, a cartoon character.
Ecstasy pills are made by many suppliers, and users develop preferences. Jay turned down "Pink Butterfly," a newer brand of Ecstasy that contains "crystal meth," or speed. Given a choice, he said, he would have preferred "Rolls Royce," identified by the car symbol stamped into the pill.
Jay assured Frank that the Tasmanian Devil was good quality. He removed one pill, put it in the cellophane wrap from a cigarette box, and handed it to Frank, who sealed the cellophane with a cigarette lighter, folded it, and tucked it into his wallet.
Frank had never used Ecstasy before. He said he'd take his pill later.
Last summer, the Atlantic City Police Department and the prosecutor's offices in Cape May and Atlantic counties met with state police in response to what they had seen at the under-21 nightclubs the summer before.
Young people were not only using Ecstasy. They were also "cocktailing," combining the drug with marijuana, GHB, or ketamine.
"The suburban kids are the ones we locked up last year," said state police Detective Sgt. Robert Bratty. "A lot of these people are from affluent families, a lot of college kids. A lot of people are highly educated.
"A lot of them feel these are safe drugs. It's not heroin and it's not cocaine, and they feel like it's safe."
It was only a matter of time before the drug moved north, authorities said. North Jerseyans who tried it at the Jersey Shore or in Manhattan brought it home.
"Bergen County is probably the ideal consumer group," Delaney said. "What do we have in Bergen County? A large youth population with expendable time and expendable cash.
"When you talk about $20 to $25 a hit, there needs to be some money. You have kids in Bergen County walking around with hundreds of dollars."
It was still daylight as Jay stood in the middle of Ridgewood's business district and chewed his two tablets before downing them with gulps from a water bottle. Several people passed by. None seemed to notice what he was doing.
"It usually takes about 45 minutes before you start rolling," Jay said.
As he waited for the effects to kick in, he walked around East Ridgewood Avenue with an accumulating group of friends that eventually numbered 14 teenagers, including Frank.
Over the next two hours, several friends offered to buy the Tasmanian Devil in Frank's wallet. He wouldn't sell.
"I don't know if I'm going to take it," he said. "I have to be home by 11:30 [p.m.]"
"If you're going to take it, take it now," Jay urged. "It lasts about six hours.
"I don't know," Frank replied. "I think maybe I'll wait until Sunday."
By the time the group made it to the amphitheater stage in Veterans Park, Jay had hugged several people, some of whom he had just met for the first time.
"I love everything, I love everyone," Jay said, almost three hours after taking the tablets.
A short time later, Jay and his friends stopped at a local drugstore to buy Vicks vapor inhalant, an over-the-counter cold medication. The feel of the menthol vapor is intensified when an Ecstasy user is rolling, Jay said.
Later, several police officers with flashlights approached the group and chased Jay and his friends off.
Jay wasn't fazed. He said he liked the adrenaline rush.
"There was some excitement when the cops came by," he said. "I didn't roll hard tonight, but it was still hella cool."
Sometimes his condition is obvious, Jay said, such as when he laughs uproariously or chews on a pacifier.
But if he had been tested for drug use at school that Monday, it is highly unlikely anything would have shown up: Experts say traces of MDMA leave the body after 48 hours, unlike marijuana, which is detectable for 30 days.
More important to Jay, his mother had no idea her son had spent the evening high on drugs when she picked him up, as scheduled, at 11 p.m.
"People don't notice when I'm on Ecstasy," Jay said. "I can control myself. I can still do things normal."
Beats thudded throughout the dark Middlesex County club as teenagers stomped around the dance floor.
Sitting to the side, watching the action, a man tapped the pocket of a companion's green pants. She slowly slid her hand inside her pocket, then took it out. The two grabbed hands and held on for a moment.
The process was so smooth it seemed to unfold in slow motion. The man and woman barely glanced at each another. Their eyes focused on the scene before them -- scanning the crowd for security guards who circled the club in black T-shirts.
Opening his palm, the man revealed a tiny plastic bag containing about 15 small white pills, each imprinted with a circle. Inside the circle was a lightning bolt. They are called White Opals.
The dealer, Frederico, is 21 years old. He splits his time between Manhattan and upstate New York. He sells Ecstasy.
"I'm not ashamed of what I do," he said.
The party, sponsored by a Garfield record store, was supposed to be held at a Polish-American Hall in town, but police scuttled the suspected rave before it began. So the organizers quickly moved it to South Amboy.
Frederico found his way there with three friends who were high on Ecstasy.
He said he bought the pills for $11 and ordinarily would charge the teenage ravers $25, but Frederico was not selling this night. There was too much risk: It wasn't crowded enough, and the partygoers were too young and inexperienced, he said.
The wasted trip didn't bother him, though.
"For every 10 persons out there that I don't sell it to," he said, "there are 20 people who want it."
Frederico said he sells Ecstasy, in part, so he can afford to buy it for his own use. So does his female companion.
"I'm in an environment where Ecstasy is always asked for. There's no stigma," he said. "It's accepted by everyone from businessmen on Wall Street to kids in the ghetto."
Frederico said he wasn't worried about getting caught. For one thing, he knows how to slip his supply past club security: Either he puts it under the arch of his insoles and steps lightly, or he gives it to a woman and asks her to conceal it inside her bra or panties.
He placed his hand gently into the woman's open palm. They lingered for a moment and then let go. She put her hand back in her pocket and they got up to go.
Frederico knows there might be risks associated with Ecstasy, but he is not concerned.
"It's like smoking," he said. "It's bad for you, but it's a choice."
Hours after taking Ecstasy, users crash. They can also become confused, depressed, or nauseous, or have trouble sleeping. More severe effects include anxiety, paranoia, feeling faint, or chills -- even convulsions.
Near-fatal results have come from Ecstasy that has been mixed with other drugs: One in particular is DXM, a legal cough suppressant that promotes sweating, causing dehydration among users.
"I was at a party the other night, and some kid who was drinking on Ecstasy threw up on me," said Dawn, a student from Upper Saddle River.
"We were at a stomach pumping last weekend," said Doug, a student at Northern Highlands High School, referring to the aftermath of a recent Sweet 16 party at which a friend did "candy flips" -- taking Ecstasy followed by a tab of LSD.
On Thanksgiving weekend in 1999, Cresskill police responded to a report of an unconscious person at a house on Mountain View Road. Emergency workers took Bert Culheimer, 24, to the hospital, where he died of an overdose, said Lt. Bill Macchio. Toxicology tests found opiates, morphine, and Ecstasy.
Culheimer's death did not make big news. It wasn't reported in The Record.
Ecstasy's popularity continued to rise.
"Two years ago, I didn't ever hear of this stuff," said Bergen County Assistant Prosecutor Kenneth Ralph, who heads the county's narcotics task force. "Now it's everywhere."
Ralph estimated that Ecstasy is involved in about a third of his caseload.
Because of its form, the drug vexes law enforcement.
"It could be anywhere. That's the thing with Ecstasy," said Passaic County Senior Assistant Prosecutor Salvatore Bellomo, who heads his county's narcotics task force.
"It's a small pill, looks about the same size as an aspirin, and so it's easily transported -- and easily concealed."
To hide the drugs, users and dealers stash the pills in Tootsie Rolls, bags of M&M's and Skittles, Pez dispensers, and breath mint containers, said Farley, the Ocean County assistant prosecutor.
It all seems so innocuous -- which also makes it more difficult to combat. Even the name of the drug is a powerful attraction, Farley said
So far, consumers -- many of them youngsters -- are buying into it, authorities say.
"Every summer seems worse. Every summer seems to see more users and distributors," Delaney said. "This summer is going to be tough. This was a long, cold winter."
Source: http://199.173.2.7/news/kids200107221.htm
