Addicts Go From Worst to BAD to Kick Habits : Narcotics: Former users call themselves Brothers Against Drugs. They use exercise and chores to fill the time once wasted while high.

The five men with clear eyes and trim bodies seem a lifetime away from the nether world that once held them captive.

But their black-and-white business cards display a skull and crossbones, and, when they talk of doing “eight-balls” and “rocks” or “gettin’ a hit,” the drug culture they describe is mean and dirty and real.

These men are former users and dealers who belong to Brothers Against Drugs, a tight outfit of men who help fight the war on drugs.

When summoned, they pluck young addicts off the streets, get them clean and put them back out there to preach firsthand gospel about the evils of crack cocaine.

Muscled arms, military-like discipline and stern attitudes replace doctors, social workers and advisers in BAD’s cleanup program.

It is work that earned BAD, after four months of existence, recognition from then-Mayor Andrew Young as Atlanta’s best community service organization for 1989.

But it also is work that earned the scorn of drug dealers. One BAD member was shot while filming a public service announcement in a drug-torn neighborhood.

Underneath all the praise and bravado, the brothers grapple with private demons, seeking to regain jobs, self-respect and family trust they lost to their own addiction.

BAD operates from the home of Morris Bankston, a 35-year-old former telephone company executive and preacher’s son who quit his job and used his own money to start the group in August, 1989.

Bankston says he has no formal training in drug rehabilitation and has never used drugs himself. He saw what his sister’s crack habit did to his own family and decided that it was time for him to start helping people.

“I did it totally on faith,” he says. “I knew what was in my heart. I just stepped out there and so far it’s worked out. Degrees won’t teach you about the things that are going on out there.”

Local treatment experts say they would prefer BAD to consult with licensed professionals in dealing with addicts, but they cannot find fault with their largely unschooled approach.

“In listening to their talk and looking at the results of their work, there’s a place for them too,” says William Walker, director of the Atlanta West Intake and Treatment Center, a state rehabilitation facility where BAD participates in panel discussions with former addicts and other treatment groups.

“Something is better than nothing,” Walker says. “I don’t necessarily agree that you should make treatment assessments, unless you have some professionals, but I think it’s good to have anybody out there who’s trying to help people help themselves.”

The brothers recruit primarily with their business cards, which bear their toll-free hot-line number. The cards are distributed at rallies but usually end up in addicts’ hands through relatives, friends or local churches.

That is how BAD was able to make an educational tool out of Timothy Armstrong, a 28-year-old husband and father of three who picked up drug dealing to supplement his salary as a hotel chef.

In January, Armstrong’s sister gave him a BAD business card. At the time, Armstrong was addicted to the crack cocaine he was selling.

His breaking point came when he found himself with his finger on the trigger of a gun, thinking seriously about shooting a rival dealer who strayed onto his turf.

“I didn’t want to kill anybody,” Armstrong said. “I thought I was going to be on drugs for the rest of my life. And it scared me because I didn’t want to be like that.”

So Armstrong called BAD. The brothers piled into their black van, picked up Armstrong and took him to Bankston’s house.

That’s where Armstrong has been since, eating three square meals a day, working out, clean and clear-eyed, a full-fledged brother himself.

For the first few months, new members live at Bankston’s house, purging drugs from their systems. They travel with the brothers on community service junkets. Weightlifting, gardening and chores fill hours once whiled away doing drugs.

Brothers go to church and movies together. Emphasis is placed on pride and appearance. Brothers must stop what they are doing to listen to any other brother who feels that he needs to talk about his problems.

Then, brothers are allowed to return home, working with BAD in their own communities. It is a system Bankston devised through trial, error and trust.