Highs and Lows

Inside the cozy confines of her West Hollywood drug haven, the woman took a long luxurious toke from the self-rolled marijuana cigarette and held her breath for dear life.

Almost immediately, the furrowed brow of the 38-year-old AIDS patient seemed to relax as she closed her eyes and sank back into the leather couch.

Several times a day, she smokes marijuana to offset the painful side effects of 11 different medications she takes for her condition. “The pot makes the pain easier to bear,” she said dreamily. “Mentally, it makes me feel like, ‘OK, fine, I can handle anything.’ ”

Here, in an airy room atop a Santa Monica Boulevard auto parts store, the woman purchases her marijuana, usually sitting right down on a couch to roll and smoke a joint. She’s a member of the Los Angeles Cannabis Resource Center, the last-ditch supply line for 459 Southern Californians facing the pain and anxiety of a host of incurable diseases.

But that drug supply--supposedly protected by Proposition 215, the 1996 state initiative that allows patients with certain serious illnesses to possess marijuana for medical use--is in jeopardy.

Earlier this month, a federal judge ordered six Northern California cannabis clubs to shut down for alleged illegal sales of the drug, siding with prosecutors who insisted that Proposition 215 did not legalize the clubs or any other kinds of distribution--merely the medical use of marijuana. In addition, the Justice Department wants the Cannabis Resource Center and five more still operating across the state to voluntarily close.

Center President Scott Imler, 40, who smokes pot four times a day to counteract the pain from his epilepsy, says his staff of seven feels under siege.

Including the recent closures, Imler said, the government has successfully shut down 23 of 29 medical marijuana clubs statewide since 1996, including ones in San Diego, Orange and Ventura counties. So far, Imler’s club, which has earned a reputation among local civic and law enforcement officials as among the tightest-run ships in the legal marijuana supply business, has been a tougher nut to crack.

Imler said some clubs deserved to be closed for failing to properly enforce guidelines set down in Proposition 215, whose language he co-wrote.

Unlike his own center, others fail to make proper security checks on prospective members and sell to unqualified users.

At the West Hollywood center, doctors’ letters of diagnosis with authorization must be renewed and verified. No excuses. No exceptions. The licenses of participating physicians are checked and rechecked. In the last five years, a dozen members have been expelled for breaking club rules, including resale of the marijuana dispensed there.

“I’ve seen some suppliers develop this ‘pot-preneurial’ spirit, where they think, ‘Hey, we can make some money on this. We can make a career change,’ ” Imler said. “Some have relaxed the rules. And that has hurt everyone.”

Imler said he was never a big pot user until a 1983 skiing accident in which he cracked his head against a tree, resulting in seizures and migraines that didn’t stop, even with barbiturates, until he started smoking marijuana. Now, a few tokes several times a day give him mental and physical peace, he said.

The former special education teacher began working for medical marijuana laws and in 1992 moved from Santa Cruz to Santa Monica to push the cause and start a club.

Eventually, his cannabis club was invited by West Hollywood officials to move to their city. Officials there continue to support Imler.

*

West Hollywood Mayor Steve Martin has a personal stake in the marijuana issue: He has seen how marijuana has eased the pain of friends dying of AIDS.

“I have seen it make a huge difference in people’s quality of life,” he said. “For many people, this club is a godsend. It’s got great community support, and there’s a real commitment in West Hollywood to keep it open.”

This March, Martin wrote a letter to President Clinton asking for a moratorium on enforcement of federal drug laws that interfere with the daily operation of cannabis clubs like Imler’s.

“If the centers are shut down,” Martin wrote, “many of these individuals will be compelled to search back alleys and street corners for their medicine. This will not only endanger their lives, but place an unnecessary burden on our police departments.”

In response to the federal court ruling that shut down half a dozen clubs, state Sen. John Vasconcellos (D-Santa Clara), a supporter of medical marijuana, today will sponsor a summit to study other ways to distribute the drug legally.

For the patients they supply, legitimate club operators such as Imler are true medical heroes, a last line of defense against a skeptical government that distrusts a drug that for everyone else in America is still illegal.

Club statistics show that 70% of members have AIDS, 10% have various cancers and the rest have maladies ranging from multiple sclerosis to Lou Gehrig’s disease.

Last year, the club dispensed nearly 100 pounds of marijuana, grown either on the premises or under its supervision, providing a better-quality product than what is sold on the street.

The government’s reaction to their work, the cannabis clubs say, has been a modern day version of 1930s “Reefer Madness.”

In 1996, Imler was forced to temporarily move his shop to a West Hollywood church after a raid by Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies--one prompted by a vindictive customer whom Imler said he turned away.

And there continue to be security tests by unscrupulous users looking for an off-street drug supply line and by undercover agents seeking to infiltrate his club and eventually close it down.

Last summer, Imler denied membership to a suspected federal undercover agent when his documents proved to be forged.

More difficult are the times the club has been forced to turn away those with legitimate need but lacking authorization, such as the AIDS patient who was denied membership after his documents proved to be bogus.

“Either he was too afraid to go to his doctor for permission or his doctor turned him down,” Imler recalled. “I told him I was sympathetic but that we had our rules.”

Since its start, Imler’s cannabis club has had no outdoor signage. There’s no need for anyone to know where it is, other than local doctors and AIDS organizations--all of whom have the address, he says.

To qualified members, the club dispenses marijuana with the cheerful precision of an iced mocha at Starbucks.

Although the front doors are kept locked for security reasons, members choose from a daily menu that on one recent day included such blends as Orange Patty, McWeed No. 5 and Ethie’s Delight, described as “a true delight. Dark Crystallized buds, lots of red hairs . . . a smooth smoke.”

Coming soon, the menu promised: Blends such as Super Haze. And Martha Jane.

As well, there are marijuana-filled brownies, spice cakes, even Rice Krispies treats, for those bothered by smoke.

The club’s marijuana blends sell for $12 to $20 a gram, but Imler said that those in financial straits are merely asked to make a donation. Last year, he said, the club gave away nearly 20% of its yield, or 19 pounds of the drug.

*

No insurance companies will pay for the marijuana as part of medical coverage, Imler said.

Even with annual limits per member, the club last year was only able to grow about 10% of the marijuana it needed, spending $375,000 to purchase from other covert growers.

At the urging of West Hollywood officials, Imler said, the club is trying to meet demand for the current year by growing 250 plants in basement incubators that have the look and smell of their unsupervised cousins.

“The mayor wasn’t happy that we were spending so much money on the black market,” Imler said. “I think he’s right, we shouldn’t be fueling such black market enterprises where we really have no control over where the profits eventually land.”

Buyers are allowed to smoke their joints in the nearby lounge, as long as they don’t share their marijuana with anyone. On one wall hangs a sign encouraging such restraint: “Bogart That Joint,” it reads, twisting a 1960s expression.

Along with the fear of government crackdown, Imler says, comes the specter of the club’s location being found out by the public.

That concern turned to laughter recently when a billboard on top of the club’s building was changed to an ad for new hair shampoo containing oil from hemp seed--also an ingredient in marijuana. The ad included a large picture of the telltale green hemp weed.

“We were simply blown away by that ad,” Imler said. “Two years of low-profile discretion, blown to smithereens in one afternoon.”