Product Description

The dramatic story of the methamphetamine epidemic as it sweeps the American heartland a timely, moving, very human account of one community s attempt to battle its way to a brighter future.

Crystal methamphetamine is widely considered to be the most dangerous drug in the world, and nowhere is that more true than in the small towns of the American heartland. Methland tells the story of Oelwein, Iowa (pop. 6,159), which, like thousands of other small towns across the country, has been left in the dust by the consolidation of the agricultural industry, a depressed local economy, and an out-migration of people. As if this weren t enough to deal with, an incredibly cheap, longlasting, and highly addictive drug has rolled into town.

Over a period of four years, journalist Nick Reding brings us into the heart of Oelwein through a cast of intimately drawn characters, including: Clay Hallburg, the town doctor, who fights meth even as he struggles with his own alcoholism; Nathan Lein, the town prosecutor, whose caseload is filled almost exclusively with meth-related crime; and Jeff Rohrick, a meth addict, still trying to kick the habit after twenty years. Tracing the connections between the lives touched by the drug and the global forces that set the stage for the epidemic, Methland offers a vital and unique perspective on a pressing contemporary tragedy.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #8455 in Books
• Published on: 2009-06-09
• Released on: 2009-06-09
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 272 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9781596916500
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
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From Publishers Weekly
Using what he calls a "live-in reporting strategy," Reding's chronicle of a small-town crystal meth epidemic-about "the death of a way of life as much as... about the birth of a drug"-revolves around tiny Oelwein, Iowa, a 6,000-resident farming town nearly destroyed by the one-two punch of Big Agriculture modernization and skyrocketing meth production. Reding's wide cast of characters includes a family doctor, the man "in the best possible position from which to observe the meth phenomenon"; an addict who blew up his mother's house while cooking the stuff; and Lori Arnold (sister of actor Tom Arnold) who, as a teenager, built an extensive and wildly profitable crank empire in Ottumwa, Iowa (not once, but twice). Reding is at his best relating the bizarre, violent and disturbing stories from four years of research; heftier topics like big business and globalization, although fascinating, seem just out of Reding's weight class. A fascinating read for those with the stomach for it, Reding's unflinching look at a drug's rampage through the heartland stands out in an increasingly crowded field.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post
During the 2008 presidential campaign, Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin created a small scandal when she told a North Carolina crowd, "We believe that the best of America is in these small towns that we get to visit, and in these wonderful little pockets of what I call the real America." Apart from whatever political hay the left made of rhetoric elevating small-town Americans over their more urban counterparts, Palin's comments tapped into a central myth of our national culture -- that there is something fundamentally undiluted and authentic about small towns that is implicitly absent from larger cities. Small-town residents, the story goes, are honest, hard-working, religiously observant and somehow just more American than the rest of America.

In his persuasive new book, Methland, journalist Nick Reding reveals the fallacies of this myth by showing how, over the past three decades, small-town America has been blighted by methamphetamine, which has taken root in--and taken hold of--its soul. Over four years, Reding studied meth production and addiction in Oelwein, Iowa, a rural community about 300 miles from Chicago. With a population of just over 6,000, Oelwein serves as a case study of the problems many small towns face today. Once a vibrant farming community where union work and small businesses were plentiful, Oelwein is now struggling through a transition to agribusiness and low-wage employment or, alternatively, unemployment. These conditions, Reding shows, have made the town susceptible to methamphetamine.

There is no more horrifying example of the drug's ravages than Roland Jarvis, who began using meth as a way to keep up his energy through double shifts at a local meat-processing plant. Apparently doing so was nothing unusual, and until the early 1980's, an Oelwein physician would routinely prescribe methamphetamines for fatigued workers. When the plant where Jarvis worked was de-unionized and his wages slashed by two-thirds, Jarvis went from an occasional meth user to a habitual user and then a manufacturer. One night, in a fit of drug-induced paranoia, he attempted, disastrously, to dispose of his cooking chemicals. In the ensuing fire, he was so horribly burned that paramedics could only watch while the flesh literally melted from his body and Jarvis begged the police to kill him. Reding's description of Jarvis now, using his fingerless hands to lift a meth pipe to his noseless face, is among the most haunting images in the book.

Reding tracks the decline--and, ultimately, the limited resurgence--of Oelwein, while also examining the larger forces that have contributed to its problems. He links meth to the gathering power of unregulated capitalism beginning in the 1980's. It was then, he argues, that one-time union employees earning good wages and protected by solid benefits, like Roland Jarvis, began to see their earnings cut and their benefits disappear. Undocumented migrants began taking jobs at extraordinarily low wages, thereby depressing the cost of labor. Meth, with its opportunity for quick profit and its power to make the most abject and despondent person feel suddenly alive and vibrant, found fertile ground. Meanwhile, in Washington, pharmaceutical lobbyists were working hard to keep DEA agents from attempting to limit access to the raw ingredients; ephedrine and pseudoephedrine, meth's core precursors, were simply too vital to the lucrative allergy-remedy market. Though he avoids making the argument in such stark terms, Reding positions the meth epidemic as the triumph of profits over the safety and prosperity of America's small-town inhabitants.

But meth hasn't always been seen as a menace. In fact, Reding explains, "methamphetamine was once heralded as the drug that would end the need for all others." First developed by a Japanese chemist at the end of the 19th century, meth was, by the middle of the 20th century, embraced by many in government and industry as a wonder drug perfect for, among other things, keeping up soldier morale. Several governments, including the United States, used it on their troops in World War II, despite studies showing that it produced "psychotic" and "anti-social" behaviors including "increased libido, sexual aggression, violence, hallucinations, dementia, bodily shaking, hyperthermia, sadomasochism, inability to orgasm, Satanic thoughts, general immorality, and chronic insomnia." Nonetheless (and overlooking the vexing question of how it's possible to measure satanic thoughts), meth continued to gain popularity, largely because of its ability to make people "feel good"--and industrious. "It's one thing for a drug to be associated with sloth, like heroin," Reding writes, "but it's wholly another when a formerly legal and accepted narcotic exists in a one-to-one ratio with the defining ideal of American culture."

Among the biggest culprits in the spread of the meth epidemic, Reding argues, are the media, which, he says, have gone from obliviousness to obsession to a premature declaration of the end of the meth problem, and finally the pronouncement that there never was a meth problem in the first place. "Meth just wasn't as interesting to report on once it could no longer be cast as a fundamentally American morality play," Reding argues. "In many cases, the postmortem became a witch hunt, as bloggers and newspaper columnists called into question whether the meth epidemic had ever existed in the first place." Methland makes the case that small-town America is perhaps not the moral and hard-working place of the public imagination, but it also argues that big-city ignorance --fueled by the media--toward small-town decay is both dangerous and appalling. Copyright 2009, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

From Bookmarks Magazine
For this powerful, terrifying look at the drug epidemic in America's heartland, Reding studied meth production and addiction in Oelwein over four years. The book's strength lies in its character studies and depictions of destroyed families -- many not for the squeamish -- as well as in its explanation of how meth producers integrate their operations to become major conglomerates. Despite the persuasive narrative, a few reviewers noted a weakness in Reding's attempt to link larger socioeconomic forces (such as the rise of agribusiness) to small towns' meth use and production. But the coupling of classic reporting and a compelling, timely story make Methland a book well worth reading.

Customer Reviews

From the allegorical fishbowl looking out.....
Yesterday I retraced the route I first drove with Nick that first day I met him in 2005. I drove by the houses I identified to him as places where methamphetamine had been cooked or distributed. One has been torn down, one still appears dilapidated or "burned out." The other one I barely recognized because it is in such good shape with obvious care and attention being lavished upon it.
Oelwein, like many other rural communities, has changed significantly since Nick started this book. Our transformation, thankfully has been extremely positive. We have a new library, a sewer treatment plant that is not violating Clean Water Act Regulations, an absolutely gorgeous downtown area, 400 new jobs in the last 18 months, a microbrewery with multistate distribution agreements, new shops and restuarants, and a new community college campus that allows high school kids to take the kinds of classes previously only available to prep school kids, or kids in major urban centers and allowing them to graduate with an A.A. degree the same day they get their high school diplomas.
My point is simply this: None of the above listed things were here that day Nick and I went to Leo's for lunch. The town was (and still is in some ways) suffering from all the forces described by Nick. There was a palatable sense of despair. The last two chapters describe the start of the transformation, but all books end, and Oelwein's story definitely has not.
The problem is insidious and scary. As of 6.15.2009 52% of my juvenile case load is still because of methamphetamine use/addiction. The police are still arresting dealers and finding purer and more addictive product from Mexico.
Nick's research methods looked pretty solid to me. The Fayette County Sheriff's Office did have input. I was there when Nick and the Chief Deputy sat down together. Nick did contact colleges in the area. I was not privy to those conversations, but I know they were had. I know some conversations were not held because of refusal to return phone calls and emails. Are there some inacuracies? Yes, on the micro detail level, but they certainly do not detract from the story or affect it negatively. The lines drawn from point A to point B are 100% in my professional training and experience.
Nick was able to treat Oelwein fairly and report on an example of a town trying to find its way in a global economy. Oelwein and I both found hope during the writing of this book in spite of obstacles thrown up in our path, sometimes by the very government I represent on the front lines of the drug war.

Read this Book BEFORE Passing Judgment
When I first heard of "Methland" I was cynical and skeptical. I am a transplanted Chicagoan who has lived in Oelwein for 30 years. I have worked in community corrections in Oelwein and most of the counties in Northeast Iowa for almost 29 years. My bachelor's degree is in journalism so I have a true respect for skillful, accurate reporting and an understanding of the difference between fact and opinion. After reading the first salacious chapter online (I felt like a voyeur) I knew I had to buy the book in order to make an informed decision about it. I am glad I did.

Unless you have personal or professional experience with methamphetamine, the topic tends to make people queasy. And when you see the topic highlighted in YOUR town with observations about and quotes from people y ou KNOW, it is surreal and somewhat upsetting.

Methamphetamine production, sale and use have been overwhelmingly costly to Oelwein and rural America in general. But even at its worst, the town did not belong to the Roland Jarvis' of the world. And even the suggestion that it did, chafes.

In my opinion, this book is an essentially accurate representation of the dry rot that meth has inflicted on a wonderful town. It does not reflect 2009 Oelwein as THAT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE. But the subtitle of the book is the death and LIFE of an American small town and it does begin to chronicle the process of Oelwein rising again.

Would I have made some of the observations or emphasized some of the things that Nick Redding did?

No

But I did not write the book, he did. And that is his prerogative.

But, Mr. Redding, please get a better fact-checker. Methland contains some blue ribbon snafus.

- Pat Taylor

One of the Best for 2009!
"Methland" tells at least four important stories simultaneously - 1)How a small Iowa town (Oelwin) went from prosperous to an economic basket-case and back, while becoming first infested with local meth labs and then free of their scourge. 2)How illegals from Mexico are vaporizing well-paying jobs that American natives formerly filled. 3)Why America's "War on Drugs" is a farce. 4)Life, as experienced by several key players in Oelwin's experience with drugs.

By May, 2005, Reding reports that half the buildings on Oelwin's main street stood vacant, foot traffic was practically non-existent, seven in ten children lived below the poverty line, burned-out homes of former meth labs dotted the town, and the high school principal was arranging for police to patrol the halls with a drug-sniffing dog. (As a cross-country truck driver with a penchant for off-route travel, I can attest to the sad economic plight of most small towns.)

Iowans saw 1,370 meth labs seized in 2004, up from 321 in 1998, and Nathan Lein, Asst. Co. Attorney, estimated 95% of his cases were related to drugs (including a 3-year left alone for a week to take care of his younger sibling). Reding follows Roland Jarvis, a worker at the meat plant, who had seen wages fall from $18/hour with benefits (1992) to $6.20/hour, without benefits as the plant was sold (closed in 2006 - the number of workers had dropped from 800 to 99) and populated by illegals often solicited in Mexico by offers of two months free rent (up to 22 in a two-bedroom home).

Roland Jarvis began using meth to fuel 16-hour work days at the meat plant trying to establish a nest egg for a new family, and progressed to setting up his own meth lab as wages fell. A meth-cooking accident created a fire that burned his mother's home down, hospitalized Jarvis for three months, and disfigured him for life (lost his nose, much of his skin melted, his fingers became nubs). Yet, despite repeated trips to prison by both Jarvis (7 out of the last 10 years) and his mother, four heart attacks, a child requiring a kidney transplant because of maternal meth abuse during pregnancy, and almost no remaining teeth, Roland continued to use meth throughout the span of the book.

Reding also meets Lori Arnold (Tom's sister), who starts as a runner for illicit meth prescription users in Ottumwa, and progresses to manufacturing her own meth while buying a bar, car dealership, 14 homes and a 144-acre horse farm to hide and facilitate operations. Imprisoned for 8 years, she too is unable to break the habit - though the local $7/hour work alternative without benefits at the meat plant wearing a 50-lb. protective suit in near-freezing temperatures didn't help either.

The New York Times reported in 2001 that 40% of agricultural workers were illegals. (Imagine what it is now.)

Ultimately, the mayor's (upgrade sewers and roads to attract new businesses), prosecutor's, and police chief's (stop almost everything that moved in an effort to check for drugs) efforts were followed by new jobs in town, and the elimination of area meth labs. (The police chief was Jarvis' class-mate in high-school. Lein, the county prosecutor, grew up nearby and still went home weekends to help his parents farm.)

At about the same time, Washington passed new legislation making it more difficult to acquire pseudoephedrine, and our national drug czar declared victory. The bad news was that violent Mexican gangs then took over the manufacture and distribution of meth.

The really bad news is that it doesn't take much imagination to suspect that Oelwin's experiences were repeated nationwide. Readers are left wondering, "What makes meth so attractive?" Reding senses that economic despair is a factor, though not the only one (Jarvis started when he was making good money). Inquiries from experts supports a conclusion that meth makes a user feel good and lasts long (about 12 hours, though the effect becomes less with repeated use), heightens and prolongs sex, and provides sustained energy. Meth also presents attractive opportunities to those with an entrepreneurial bent - eg. Lori Arnold.

Finally, "Why does the U.S. have the world's biggest drug problem, and why don't all our high-paid educated university professors with time off for research come up with useful answers?" Irving Kristol, in a 6/14/09 column, reports cocaine usage is now 5X that in 1914 when it was legal; meanwhile the number incarcerated has boomed to 5X the world average (from rough parity) since the "War on Drugs" began.