A FAMILY GROUND DOWN

STRATFORD - Ellen was a single mother, working at a factory most of
her life. She knew nothing about drugs ... she didn't even drink.

Ellen didn't have time for such nonsense - she was too busy working
and caring for her two young children.

The family wasn't well off, but they were doing pretty well for
themselves. They had a nice house across from the beach in Milford,
they had dinner together and took lots of pictures.

The pictures tell the story of a better life.

There's Kara on a camping trip with a youth group; Steven and his
friends playing in the yard. Then there's Ellen's favorite - a
professional portrait of brother and sister together.

In that photo, which still hangs in the family living room - now in a
run-down second-floor apartment, due to the wear and tear of the drug
life -- Kara is 3* and Steven is 5.

For the first time in nearly two hours, Ellen's tears have subsided
and she smiles.

"I could have killed the two of them that day," she said, laughing in
a way she probably hasn't done in a long time. "I had her hair fixed
so cute ... up in these big pigtails. We were all ready to go to Sears
to get the picture taken and I went in the bathroom just for a second.
By the time I came out, her brother had cut off her pigtails."

She points out a few other family portraits, but as tears gather back
in her eyes it's apparent that thinking back to the good times is too
painful to do today.

Instead, she discusses the heroin addiction of both her
children.

It started a little more than five years ago, when Steven was 19 and
Kara was a 16-year-old honors student at Foran High School in Milford.

That's when Steven's friend, 19-year-old James, introduced them to the
drug.

"I would have never done it if I'd had known it was heroin - just
because of the name of it and what it does to people. But my friends
told me it wasn't anything like that, no big deal they said," Steven
said.

So that's what Steven told his sister when they snorted it for the
first time.

"I never knew it was heroin, but we kept doing it. We didn't know, we
were just stupid kids experimenting," Kara said.

"I knew drugs were bad for you, I never even thought I'd do them. I
was shy, I was an honors student and we were raised in a good
environment. Even when I did experiment, that's all I thought it was.
I never thought I'd get addicted," Kara said.

James, now 23, is also a heroin addict. He said when a friend gave him
the drug, he didn't know what it was and didn't really care - he was
looking for something to ease the pain after the sudden death of the
girlfriend he'd had since junior high school.

Now, they each use about three bags a day to keep from getting "dope
sick," the withdrawal suffered when addicts don't use the drug every
six to eight hours.

"It's not even about getting high. You just do it so you don't get
sick." Kara said. "It's a crazy life, I just want help."

"It's no picnic, that's for sure. You don't care about anything - you
just want your drugs," her brother said.

Kara and Steven were already addicts by the time their mother realized
what was happening.

"Drugs had never been a part of my life," she said. "I had no idea
what was going on." Looking back, though, Ellen said there were signs.

"Their attitudes changed drastically. They started fighting with each
other all the time, and with me. But I just thought it was a phase,"
she said.

"Then they started having different people in and out at all hours. I
started finding things in their rooms - I didn't even know what I'd
found, but I knew it had something to do with drugs. They'd always
deny it and I guess, thinking back ... maybe I was blind to it or
maybe I was making excuses for them," she said.

But one day, something happened that shattered any illusions Ellen had
about the erratic behavior only being a phase. It was the day Kara
tried to kill herself.

"She was fighting with me because I wouldn't give her money. Then she
just went crazy, over $5. She slashed her wrist right in front of me,
and I threw the money at her and out the door she went ... bleeding
everywhere, with a sock wrapped around her arm."

Kara still bears the scar from that wound, the one that required 27
stitches.

"We were the typical family ... until they got mixed up in this. Now,
it's hard to even remember when things were normal," Ellen said.

"I can't live like this anymore ... I can't," Ellen says, barely
audible in between her cries of pain. As she sits sobbing in her
Stratford apartment, trying to understand why her children say they
can't stop shooting up, she feels as if she's "gone crazy."

"I can't sleep. I can't even function like a normal person anymore. I
can't hold a job anymore ... all I do is cry ... and worry about
what's going to happen next," she says. "I'm up all night, I can't
sleep 'til they're home, and they're never in bed 'til 3, 4 o'clock in
the morning. I never know when the police are going to call, when
something's going to happen to them 8A nobody can live like this."

"In and out of jail. One goes in rehab and comes out and the other one
is still doing it ... then they're both using it again. Then the other
goes in rehab ... It never stops. This is no kind of life for any of
us," she said.

Kara and Steven have each been in rehab at least once before and
they've both been arrested several times, on charges ranging from
possession of narcotics to shoplifting.

Steven still managed to hold a job until two weeks ago, when he was
fired for not showing up. He was sick that morning and buying heroin
to ease his withdrawal was his only concern. He's been fired before,
and so has Kara, who for two years worked as a nurse's aide, but
hasn't held a steady job for a year now.

Kara, an attractive young woman who looks as though she walked out of
a Gap commercial, now cleans houses for money sometimes. Other times
she "cops" drugs for people who pay her to buy them because they're
afraid of getting arrested.

But no matter what, Kara and Steven find money for drugs.

They've pawned all Kara's jewelry, and anything of value that was once
in their mother's house. Steven and James steal baby formula from
stores to sell cheap to smaller convenience stores, which, they say,
encourage the practice that nets them a profit. And they borrow money.

"I owe the whole world money," Kara said, cradling the phone. She's
been on hold nearly 15 minutes with the drug treatment program she's
trying to get into.

Ellen hopes Steven and Kara can get treatment at the same time so they
can encourage each other to stay clean once they're out. Kara calls
different treatment programs several days in a row, only to be told
there's a waiting list for most or that she needs insurance for others.

As Kara makes those calls on a recent day, Ellen tries to explain how
she's watched her family spiral downward to what seems like a point of
no return,

With the matching blue curtains at the kitchen windows and placemats
around the table, it's obvious that Ellen has tried to make their
apartment a place to call home. And, as she offers cold drinks to
guests while Kara washes dishes, there's the brief appearance of
normalcy in the home.

Except that Ellen can't stop crying today.

"Here, Mom, I'll make you some popcorn. Then I'll finish the dishes,
OK?"

"Mom, please stop crying, it's OK ... please, Mom, I'm going back into
rehab," Kara repeats over and over.

It's of little comfort to Ellen. She's heard it all before.

"I hate it that we do this to her. I can't stand seeing her like
this," Kara repeats, as Steven shakes his head.

"My mother never did drugs, or even drank. She didn't have any idea
what we were doing. We had a good life," Steven said.

"It's breaking her heart. She hates to see us like this. But we just
can't stop," Steven said.

"Why not? Why can't you just lay there in bed if you're sick ... if
you don't have the drugs, you don't do them. I'd just lay there sick.
I don't understand why you can't do that!" Ellen screams.

"Mom, don't you think we want to? It's just not that easy," Kara tells
her.

"My mom enables us, too. She doesn't kick us out," Kara said, as Ellen
looks at her daughter in amazement at what she's just said.

"I did once, but they were sleeping under the railroad tracks," Ellen
says breaking into sobs for several minutes. "I can't let them sleep
outside ... in the rain, the snow. I just can't ... I'm their mother,
no matter what."

But the love for her children, doesn't stop the frustration, anger and
humiliation she feels.

"I'm so humiliated here ... the neighbors, they all hate us, they give
us dirty looks. They know what goes on. I don't want to leave the
house because I'm so embarrassed. Our family doesn't even talk to us
anymore. My sister said she hopes my kids die.

"They can't understand. Nobody can understand the hell we're living,"
she said.

The following are state-funded or state-operated agencies that offer
addiction treatment, or for more information call the state Department
of Mental Health and Addiction Services' 24-Hour Access Center at
1-800-586-9903.

Region 1 - Bridgeport, Darien, Easton, Fairfield, Greenwich, Monroe, New
Canaan, Norwalk, Stamford, Stratford, Trumbull, Westport, Weston, Wilton:

Greater Bridgeport Community Mental Health Center, Substance Abuse
Services, 1635 Central Ave., 551-7428; 24-hour crisis hotline, 551-7507

Liberation, Meridian & Guenster, 276 Union Ave., Bridgeport, 384-9301; 4
Elmcrest Terrace, Norwalk, 851-2077; 115 Main St., Stamford, 356-1980

Regional Network of Programs: 144 Golden Hill St., Suite 310, Bridgeport,
366-1174

Connecticut Counseling Services: 20 North Main St., Norwalk, 838-6508

Franklin S. DuBois Center, 1515 Summer St., Stamford, 358-8500

Region 2 - Ansonia, Bethany, Derby, Milford, New Haven, Orange, Seymour,
Shelton, Woodbridge, West Haven

Valley Mental Health Center, 435 East Main St., Ansonia, 736-2601,
ext. 370

Bridges 8A A Community Support System: 949 Bridgeport Ave., Milford, 878-6365

Connecticut Mental Health Center: 34 Park St., New Haven, 974-7735 [9 a.m.
until 10 p.m.], 974-7300 [10 p.m. until 8 a.m.]

Connecticut Valley Hospital, Addiction Services: Merritt Hall, P.O. Box 351,
Middletown, 860-262-6321

SELF HELP

Narcotics Anonymous: 1-800-627-3543