Heroin In Harlem A Third Generation Problem

Distributed by Copley News Service! NEW YORK- They languish n a world of unfaithful enchantment, indifferent to the society from which they have become alienated, indifferent to the abuse they have heaped upon their minds and their bodies. Street corners, doorways, abandoned tenements are some of the communes they inhabit in shared despair. A boy wrestled in slow motion to keep his body upright as he leaned against a parked car, fighting off the nod, that irresistible inclination to sleep. A short distance away, a man ambled across the street as he jabbed his left hand in one direction and poked his right hand in anothe r , boxing a n imaginary opponent while eyes waged a losing struggle to remain open. These are heroin addicts, and you can see them huddled in small knots in Harlem or any other ghetto. Here the United States heroin traffic made its first stop. Here heroin addiction is already a third-generation problem. The craving for heroin takes up pratically the whole of an addict's life. In his endless scramble for another "fix," t h e addict's job, friends, and family become neglected. He often resorts to crime to support his habit, which could cost as much as $75 to $100 a day. This amount is about one-fourth of the value of the goods he has stolen and sold. When stealing becomes too much of a hassle, many addicts end up as small-time pushers in the traffic as well as its victims. A longtime Harlem resident called drug trafficking the community's "No. 1 industry." Many bars and beauty parlors give tacit support to the addict by buying his stolen goods. "It's the vice that turns people against each other," the Harlemite said. "The tenant upstairs buys the televisión off the tenant downstairs after it has been stolen by the junkie." "I'm a dope fiend . . . been using it for 17 years," says a 33-year-old addict, who has spent 11 of those years in prison. "I don't like doing it, because I know it's a thing that places me in the penitentiary yearly. I go to jail every year steady. I'm one of the best thieves out here by ëverybody's say-so." He has a wife and four children and says he had to steal about $200 a day to support his family and his habit. He specialized in men's suits. "If whitey knew what it was costing him, he wouldn't put dope in Harlem," the addict argües. "We get dope from the Mafia, and we pay for it by stealing from the Jewish guys downtown. The thing is continuous." None of the addicts interviewed believed that the federal, state, or city governI ments are making serious I efforts to stop the heroin traffic. They were equally critical I of the pólice department, I accusing some of the pólice f of not only doing little or nothing about the drug business, but actually engaging in it themselves. Deputy C h i e f Inspector John McCahey, commanding officer of New York City's narcotics división, says the addicts' allegations are not supported by facts. "Let's face it. They can't like us. We're depriving them. The only thing the addict looks for is his next fix." There have been instances of individual pólice involvement in pushing drugs, but Chief McCahey says they were "exceptions to the rule," adding that "we take steps to prevent that from happening." But pólice officials are quick to admit their failure to halt the heroin traffic in this nation's drug capital. Harlem now harbors an estimated 100,000 heroin users. Pólice Commissioner Howard R. Leary said that "while arrests have been increasing, the illegal drug trade . . . continúes unabated, and we must, as always, face up to realities." The department has attempted to meet the problem by increasing its narcotics squad from 300 to 700 members within the past year. Chief McCahey said his unit makes about 3,000 arrests a month, half of which result from an agent's actually purchasing drugs from a seller. The unit also raids and closes down 30 to 40 drug "factories." "And yet, the flow seems to continue," Chief McCahey said. Part of the problem, says one ex-addict who was on heroin 17 years, is that the pólice only get to the smalltime street pushers. "These guys can't even afford a pair lof shoes - they're really just llittle bums like I turned out to be," he said. Chief McCahey said big dealers of heroin and other drugs are sophisticated people with a keen business sense. He explained that only t h o s e persons considered trusted and reliable, in the underworld lexicon, have the connections and are able to buy pure heroin in large Quantities from w h o e v er smuggles it into the United States. If the price for a küo (2.2 pounds) is $5,000 to $6,000, a dealer can sell it for $11,000 to $14,000 for a quick profit. He has ended his part of a transaction and does not want to have anything to do with street sales, which, according to Mr. McCahey, are the "most vulnerable" point of the operation in terms of chances of being arrested. Big dealers stay away from the "factories," too, where pure heroin is diluted with milk sugar or quinine, thereby making several kilos of adulterated heroin from the original package. William H. Tendy, chief of the narcotics unit of the U.S. attorney's office for the southern district of New York, told a House committee on crime recently that 15 Mafia members control nearly all of this country's dope traffic. , But Chief McCahey said he does not believe that the Mafia is involved directly in narcotics. lts role, he said, is to provide loans for persons engaging in the illegal traffic. "Heroin is coming into this country in greater quantities than ever before," Chief McCahey said. "Increasing narcotics arrests in this city cannot curb drug abuse as long as tons of heroin are smuggled across our nation's borders each year. "Large numbers of pushers and dealers are being arrested after painstaking investigations, but these efforts are frustrated by the continued illegal import of drugs which flow endlessly through "the organized criminal market and into the bloodstream of a growing addict population." (Tomorrow: Drug Abuse in Uniform.)