Drug Use Denial Shoots Up in District Attorney’s Office (Original)

Fort Collins appears to have everything its residents could ever desire, charming bucolic scenery, easygoing inhabitants with a bent for the outdoors, and a premium ranking in the U.S. livability index year after year.

But not all of the city’s roughly 140,000 citizens are being best served by local authorities. Marginalized and misunderstood, Fort Collins’ intravenous drug users have been left without services that they are now legally entitled to.

In 2010 Colorado lawmakers added an exemption into the state’s drug paraphernalia laws that allowed counties to legally adopt syringe exchange programs. Boulder County jumped at the chance and now has their program fully out in the open (it ran covertly for 22 years prior to the law change), and Denver programs are following suit.

Fort Collins was tipped as the next breakthrough battleground in the war against disease being spread by shared needles and Larimer County found itself in the spotlight. But since then very little has happened. There is no official needle exchange, and talk of one is usually conducted in hushed tones. The biggest question has to be, why?

Jeff Basinger, executive director of the Northern Colorado AIDS Project, has a few ideas as to where the problem lies. “It starts with people who think that drug use is a choice, rather than an addiction. All addictions obviously start with a choice, but once it moves further along it becomes disease.”

From his office in the heart of Old Town in Fort Collins, Basinger spoke candidly about the mindset he finds himself up against, “It’s the attitude that drug use is bad, drug users are bad, and if you provide a needle exchange for them then the problem is just going to get worse. Which is of course the exact opposite of what research has actually shown.”

Basinger has been receiving Federal funding for about 5 years for an initiative called “Reaching Rural IDU” (IDU stands for Intravenous Drug Users) which Basinger renamed “Reaching Rural People Who Inject” due to his dislike of the original federal moniker.

The walk-in clinic has been functioning well according to Basinger, “We’ve been doing a social networking risk reduction program for people who inject drugs. Through that we knew that there was a very active injection drug population here in northern Colorado.”

The walk-in clinic provides multiple services to the clients that arrive on the doorstep; disease testing, bleach kits, counseling, and arrangement of services to help people get off drugs.

Basinger explained what the change in the Colorado law did for them, “It doesn’t legalize syringes or paraphernalia, it certainly doesn’t legalize possession of drugs, what it does is it decriminalizes a person who is enrolled as a participant within a syringe exchange program.”

All these good things should be pointing to Fort Collins quickly embracing its own needle exchange program. But the progress has been slow, as Basinger points out, “To operate legally, we need approval from the local board of health, and we have been hosting those conversations since July. We’ve met three times and provided them with information.” There is also another dimension to getting the exchange fully functional, “Ideally it has to have the cooperation of local law enforcement and other stakeholders, but that isn’t required.”

However, both of these things are proving to be easier said than done. “There’s a split in the health board vote, but the majority see this as an important strategy to meet their own 2011 goal of reducing blood-borne disease transmission among people who inject drugs within Larimer County,” said Basinger.

On top of this there is Larry Abrahamson, the Larimer County District Attorney, who has according to Basinger, “Philosophical concerns, is not convinced that there is an issue, or that any program will even work if there was one.” All of this leads to a situation that Basinger describes simply as a, “political minefield.”

Pushed further, Basinger explained that the needle exchange debate was drawing more attention to other things that Fort Collins authorities seemed to be in denial about, “social injustice, poverty, racism, homophobia, drug use, homelessness, illiteracy. Poverty is over twenty percent in Larimer County, illiteracy is over one-in-five people, it’s insane. There are some real issues here in Fort Collins, but people don’t like to talk about them, because it’s such a fabulous place to live.”

Boulder’s needle exchange has been running for over twenty years and they were the first in the state to take advantage of the change in the law. Carol Helwig, the Boulder County HIV/STI Outreach Coordinator, had a few opinions of her own as to why Larimer County was taking its time in moving forward, “First of all, the paraphernalia law has been there prohibiting progress, and then after the change in the law it takes a long time to build stakeholder support and to get all of your ducks in a row. Getting on an agenda for a local board of health takes time, it’s a big process.”

Boulder County also had the approval of the local District Attorney and other law enforcement entities, something Helwig saw as pivotal, “We’ve benefited from their cooperation, support and understanding.”

Helwig also saw the court system in Boulder as, “Very progressive and not interested in prosecuting non-violent drug offences in a criminal fashion, but rather taking a public health issue approach with the cases.”

Unfortunately when the Boulder County District Attorney’s office was contacted for an opinion on what the Larimer District Attorney should be taking into consideration, it declined to go on the record with any comments.

Looking into the future Helwig predicted that, “The services will become available, it’s just a matter of jumping through the required hoops.” She then went further, “Any new program, any change, is already difficult even when it’s not controversial. This program is full of controversy and stigma and as such is a really hard sell. Drug users are almost really the last group of people that it’s still OK to stigmatize and discriminate against.”

During the course of the interview Helwig addressed the notion that a slightly more liberal mindset in Boulder County, compared to the conservative leaning Fort Collins, had lead to a quicker take up of social healthcare programs such as needle exchanges, “I couldn’t say it is a different mentality, but I would say that in Boulder County there is a value placed on social justice, a value placed on reaching out to people who are vulnerable or marginalized, a value placed on evidence based practice, and I think that those values are what created the alignment between our programming and being able to operate in spite of those paraphernalia laws. I’m not making a judgment about what constitutes a value in Fort Collins, I’m just explaining how we have done it done here in Boulder.”

As if to prove a point that the need for a needle exchange program exists in Larimer County, people are regularly driving down to the Boulder needle exchange from Greeley, Fort Collins and other northern Colorado areas.

Clients of the Boulder needle exchange also took part in a focus group to discuss their feelings about the service. An unnamed client said, “It’s just an awesome program, I wish it could be everywhere in every city. It’s like I said, you can’t stop people from doing what they’re doing but you can reduce the harm.”

So as the weight stacks up in favor of these programs, entities like the Larimer County Health Board find themselves coming closer to actually having to make a decision.

Fortunately, neither Larimer County nor Colorado is the testing ground for initiatives such as Needle Exchange Programs. NEP’s have been around in the U.S. since the 1980s, and as such plentiful data is available about them. A report found on the Center for Disease Control website states that,  “An impressive body of evidence suggests powerful effects from needle exchange programs. Studies show reduction in risk behavior as high as 80%, with estimates of a 30% or greater reduction of HIV in IDUs.”

For the more fiscally minded those figures can be interpreted as, “The cost per HIV infection prevented by SEPs (NEP’s) has been calculated at $4,000 to $12,000, considerably less than the estimated $190,000 medical costs of treating a person infected with HIV.”

So finally it comes down to the Larimer County Health Board to approve Fort Collins’ first openly operating needle exchange. The board members are appointed on rolling five-year terms by the County Commissioners.

Their terms are staggered, but reappointment is possible. Dr. Adrienne Lebailly is on the board and offered an insight into how far things are along in the quest to provide serious support to local intravenous drug users.

“Probably early 2012 there will be some sort of decision. In July all three county commissioners and all five board of health members went on a site visit to the NCAP offices. Jeff (Basinger) and his staff presented information about what they can currently do, and what they’d like to be able to do.” In October a similar presentation was organized by the Boulder NEP and seen by the majority of the health board.

However, the health board doesn’t get to make the decision based on their own input alone explained Lebailly, “We also have to consult with other entities including the District Attorney (Larry Abrahamson), he being the person who would prosecute people charged with crimes, along with local law enforcement. It’s going to focus more on the City of Fort Collins Police, rather than the County Sheriff, as the NCAP offices are physically located within the City of Fort Collins Police’s jurisdiction. Complicating it further is the fact that Fort Collins is at present looking for a new police chief.”

Making matters worse for the NCAP program is the division that exists on the health board. Lebailly’s prognosis wasn’t good, “I would say it’s split and I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

To Lebailly, the reasoning behind the split was multi-layered, “More conservative members tend to believe it sends a bad message. I think that public health comes at the issue from a harm reduction point of view, that we’re not endorsing drug use, but we’re trying to protect these people from getting a potentially fatal disease until such time as they’re ready to accept treatment. I think one of the important parts of the NCAP program is that every time someone comes in, they are offered treatment and they can choose to accept or decline it. People still interpret this as, you know, you’re just making it safer for people to inject drugs. It’s kind of the same argument that people have against providing condoms to teenagers.”

But it appears that all the blame can’t be laid on the shoulders of the more conservative members, “There were some people who have supported in the past, the medical marijuana amendment, and then they see what kind of businesses have sprung up and how it has changed the community, and they think that if you do this then this will be a great attraction and bring all kinds of drug users to Larimer County or Fort Collins. The data also doesn’t support that, but it’s really, sometimes it’s hard to persuade people who think that their perception is more compelling than any data you show them,” rued Dr. Lebailly.

In addition to this there is also a split on the board of county commissioners that, even though they don’t have voting rights, concerns Lebailly.

To Lebailly that meant addressing the question that, “Even if the health department isn’t going to offer it, and no tax dollars are going into it, and not even if you like the idea or not, but whether you think it’s such a bad, such a terrible idea that you won’t let a reputable organization like NCAP take this additional step in protecting their clients?”

As the issue nears its conclusion early in the New Year, Larry Abrahamson, the Larimer County District Attorney, articulated his position on the matter, “The needle exchange program is primarily a Department of Health initiative, which is basically more of a health concern than a public safety concern at this point, so we are not taking any formal position. I think it’s probably utilized more effectively in areas where they have maybe a lot of Hepatitis as a result of dirty needles or HIV spread, or something like this, in larger jurisdictions. I don’t see necessarily that as an issue here. But, I know it’s a Department of Health issue and it’s something that they are promoting. From our perspective it hasn’t risen to the level of a public safety concern that we would necessarily be taking a strong stand on at this point.”

Whether or not the District Attorney or other law enforcement entities get on board with the program remains to be seen. But with so much at stake, and with such polar opposite views being held by many of the prospective stakeholders, it appears that early 2012 will be crunch time for many working to help some of Fort Collins’ most underserved residents.

(A version of this article appeared in print on December 11, 2011, on page A1 of The Rocky Mountain Collegian with the headline: Heroin Deaths in Fort Collins Inspire a Need for Needle Exchange Program.)

© 2012 Jamie M. Bradley All Rights Reserved

Heroin Deaths in Fort Collins Inspire a Need for Needle Exchange Program

With three reportedly heroin-related deaths in Fort Collins in the past month, many have concluded that intravenous drug use is more prevalent in Fort Collins than previously thought.

But even before those deaths, several Fort Collins local authorities and a community support project have been on a collision course over a plan to set up the city’s first legal needle exchange. A coalition spearheaded by the Northern Colorado AIDS Project says the reality of drug use demands the program be implemented for health reasons. Opponents of the plan are concerned the initiative would encourage and facilitate drug use, and tarnish the image of the city.

In 2010, Colorado lawmakers added an exemption into the state’s drug paraphernalia law that allowed counties to legally adopt syringe exchange programs. Boulder County jumped at the chance and now has their program fully out in the open (it ran covertly for 22 years prior to the law change), and Denver programs are following suit.

Larimer County was tipped as the next logical location for a Syringe Exchange Program. But very little has happened thus far. There is no official needle exchange, and public conversation around the topic has been almost non-existent, some activists complain.

Jeff Basinger, executive director of the Northern Colorado AIDS Project, has ideas why no one is talking.

“It’s the attitude that drug use is bad,” Basinger said. “Drug users are bad, and if you provide a needle exchange for them, then the problem is just going to get worse.”

Basinger said for a needle exchange to become a reality, multiple entities must be on board.

“We need approval from the local board of health, and we have been hosting those conversations since July,” Basinger said. “We’ve met three times and provided them with information.”

The Larimer County Board of Health’s own strategy for 2011 includes a goal to reduce blood-borne disease transmission among intravenous drug users.

But another key player is Larry Abrahamson, the Larimer County District Attorney, who has, according to Basinger, “philosophical concerns.”

“The needle exchange program is primarily a Department of Health initiative,” Abrahamson said in a voicemail message. “Which is basically more of a health concern than a public safety concern at this point, so we are not taking any formal position.”

The D.A. also believed Fort Collins’ size didn’t make it an obvious target for the program.

“I think it’s probably utilized more effectively in areas where they have maybe a lot of hepatitis as a result of dirty needles or HIV spread, or something like this, in larger jurisdictions,” he said. “I don’t see necessarily that as an issue here. From our perspective it hasn’t risen to the level of a public safety concern that we would necessarily be taking a strong stand on at this point.”

All of this has lead to a situation that Basinger describes simply as a, “political minefield.” Pushed further, he explained that the needle exchange debate illuminating issues that Fort Collins authorities seem to be in denial about, such as, “social injustice, poverty, racism, homophobia, drug use, homelessness, illiteracy. Poverty is over 20 percent in Larimer County, illiteracy is over one-in-five people, it’s insane. There are some real issues here in Fort Collins, but people don’t like to talk about them because it’s such a fabulous place to live.”

An equally desirable place to live that does have a needle exchange is just down the highway in Boulder. Boulder’s needle exchange has been running for more than 20 years and the city was the first in the state to take advantage of the change in the law.

Carol Helwig, the Boulder County HIV/STI Outreach Coordinator, said there are practical reasons why development of a program has been slow in Fort Collins.

“First of all, the paraphernalia law has been there prohibiting progress,” she said. “And then after the change in the law it takes a long time to build stakeholder support and to get all of your ducks in a row. Getting on an agenda for a local board of health takes time, it’s a big process.”

Boulder County also had the approval of the local district attorney and other law enforcement entities, something Helwig saw as pivotal.

“We’ve benefited from their cooperation, support and understanding, ” Helwig said, adding that he also saw the court system in Boulder as, “very progressive and not interested in prosecuting non-violent drug offenses in a criminal fashion, but rather taking a public health issue approach with the cases.”

Helwig said people are already driving down to the Boulder needle exchange from Greeley, Fort Collins and other northern Colorado areas. Some of Helwig’s clients took part in a focus group to discuss their feelings about the service.

One said, “It’s just an awesome program, I wish it could be everywhere in every city. You can’t stop people from doing what they’re doing but you can reduce the harm.”

Outside Colorado, SEP (Syringe Exchange Programs) have been around since the 1980s, and there is plenty of data available about them. A report found on the Center for Disease Control website states, “An impressive body of evidence suggests powerful effects from needle exchange programs. Studies show reduction in risk behavior as high as 80 percent, with estimates of a 30 percent or greater reduction ofHIV in IDU.”

According to the CDC, “the cost per HIV infection prevented by SEP has been calculated at $4,000 to $12,000, considerably less than the estimated $190,000 medical costs of treating a person infected withHIV.”

Advocates are sure to cite such statistics as they mount pressure on the Larimer County Board of Health. Adrienne Lebailly, a board of health member, said changes are coming soon.

“Probably early 2012 there will be some sort of decision,” she said. “We also have to consult with other entities, including the District Attorney (Larry Abrahamson), … who would prosecute people charged with crimes, along with local law enforcement. It’s going to focus more on the City of Fort Collins Police, rather than the County Sheriff, as the NCAP offices are physically located within the City of Fort Collins Police’s jurisdiction.”

Making matters more difficult for the NCAP program is the division that exists on the board of health. Lebailly’s prognosis wasn’t good.

“I would say it’s split, and I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

© 2012 Jamie M. Bradley All Rights Reserved

The Making and Breaking of Isaac Peña

As the children stream into Twin Peaks Charter Academy in Longmont, Colo., fresh from being dropped off by their parents in a never-ending cavalcade of cars that stretches from the parking lot back to the main street, most of them know exactly what their day has in store.

There will be the usual trials and tribulations that all middle school kids across the U.S. face, hallway and cafeteria hierarchical dogfights, and the ever-present specter of Señor Peña.

Isaac Peña is one of the Twin Peaks’ Spanish language teachers and his effect on the kids is instantly apparent when he’s running the show. Draped over his university style lectern at the front of the room, like the Mexican flag proudly displayed behind him, Isaac treats the 11 to 13-year-olds in the room like they are his own. This means instilling into them Isaac’s own personal set of values.

These are values such as honesty, integrity, and respect. As the children course around the pastel walled corridors, moving along the brightly colored, cubist inspired floor tiling; Señor Peña’s words are constantly ringing in their ears, “Actions always have consequences,” and, “Make good choices.” The latter mantra is repeated so often in the classroom that the students finish the sentence for him.

“He wants to make a difference in kids lives,” says Sandie Sandman, Twin Peaks’ computer teacher for 1st through 6th grade. “He wants them to be well mannered and polite, when his class is in the computer lab and I walk in the room, they all immediately stand up.”

But it’s not all old school manners all the time, “Etiquette and manners is a big push for him, having integrity, but he’s a person who also wants to have fun as well,” says Sandie. “He’s a clown,” adds Sandie with a wry smile.

Isaac Peña appears at first glance to be a composite of everything America has to offer. Peña’s rags to fine threads story reads like a fairy tale; migrant worker family from Mexico strikes out across the border, scholastic isolation and sporting acceptance, political ambitions thwarted and then achieved, marital joy and strife, naked Capitalism, and the faintest wisps of celebrity thrown in for good measure.

Isaac’s life story is so utterly stunning that it defies belief. Unfortunately, Isaac Peña would have done well to remember his two favorite mantras.

Mind-boggling narratives aside, how do others deal with such a colorful personality?

Olivia Christopher, who works much more closely with Isaac, agrees wholeheartedly with Sandie’s appraisal of Isaac. However, Olivia does disagree with Isaac about some things.

“Isaac was concerned my daughter would grow up without moral character because I’m raising her without any religion,” says Olivia, “that conversation ended badly and we haven’t talked about it since.”

As the sun dipped behind the front range of the Rockies, casting a huge shadow on the face of the twin peaks for which the school is named, it was finally time to see Isaac in action, away from the restrictions of the school workplace. Isaac Peña lives in a converted loft space in downtown Longmont with his two sons, Adam, 12, and Noah, who is 10. When we arrive at his house, Isaac immediately settles into a much more relaxed routine. Homemade Mexican food is simmering on the stove top, beers are flowing from growlers, and Isaac is in a garrulous mood.

“I’m the youngest of seven kids and all of my siblings were born in Mexico,” says Isaac. “When my brother Adam was three, he passed away. My father then decided to move to the states and I was born in southwest Kansas.”

Isaac’s father had been a laborer with the “migrant worker” program during the 50’s and 60’s before his move to the U.S. But the Peña family’s assimilation into American culture was slow going. “We all didn’t speak English when we went to school,” says Isaac, “we grew up on a farm out in the country so we didn’t have a lot of contact with anyone outside of school.”

School itself presented the Peña kids, in particular Isaac, with plenty of difficulties. “Because I’d had no contact with English speakers, we all got stuck in special-ed classes,” Isaac explains, “people around me were my family and profoundly retarded people.” Getting out of these classes became Isaac’s main priority.

This was the early 1980s in Kansas, and in 1984 Isaac says he, “became cognizant of my race, and where I stood in relation to the rest of society.” Isaac wasn’t the only person cognizant of his race, “I remember a principal and some teachers calling me a wetback.”

A couple of friends and Isaac’s mother kept his spirits up. His mother told him, “Look, you are blessed to be born this side of an imaginary line, and you’ve been given a lot of opportunities.” The young Isaac didn’t squander the chance. Through all of his schooling Isaac continued to work in the fields with his family, and to keep his eye on the prize.

Sporting plaudits came along with academic awards, and Isaac had found an outlet that allowed acceptance from his peers, “Everybody starts to like you when you win.”

As the food started to arrive at the dining room table, Isaac continued to describe the trajectory that his life had taken from his family’s humble beginnings.

A sporting injury finished Isaac’s plan of athletic greatness, and so he threw himself into his academic study with even more fervor. College loomed on the horizon, but still Isaac was out working in the fields. The work was backbreaking; it involved making sure the water flowed around the irrigation channels on massive fields. Before the advent of the giant irrigation machines that ponderously circle crops nowadays, getting the water flowing into the right place involved placing a pipe into one irrigation channel and forcing it, by means of gravity, to start running into the next channel. The reward for this daily grind? Experiencing the kind of discrimination that made him ashamed to be the only true American in his family. “You need to get off our property or I’m going to call immigration”, was how one landowner responded to the Peña family request for wages due.

The threat of deportation was a big problem, “One of the most vivid memories I have is us hiding from immigration in a drainage ditch under a building. We would wait and pray. Once we were under there for 48 hours.”

These intensely religious experiences have obviously affected Isaac. The bookshelf in his loft is full of the writings of Gandhi, Tutu, King, Mother Theresa, and rather incongruously, Glenn Beck. A massive wooden cross dominates the landscape of the wall. The sense of faith, lofty Utopian ideals, and concept of family is almost palpable in the room. Into this troika of ambient reassurance arrived the burritos.

After the meal was done, Isaac suggested that we take our beers down the giant wooden staircase inside the center of his building and ensconce ourselves in front of the fireplace, away from the ears of his two young sons.

“As soon as I went to university in 1998, after finishing my associates in 1997, I was done,” says Isaac. “I met the boys mom, she got pregnant, I put her through college, through nursing school, paid everything. But basically I’d married an alcoholic.”

The struggles continued and Isaac began working as a parent educator, “with babies birth to three, giving parents anticipatory guidance of what to expect, and what they could do to foster development.” Isaac feels this work, “taught me how to be a better parent.” Peña describes it as, “helping people that didn’t have parents to teach them how to be parents.” This work was also his first insight into, and the start of his taste for, “Public policy, trying to change a generation of people.”

By 2001 Isaac was, “pretty much done with the wife, sick of her antics and the back talk.” Growing up in a Hispanic household, “We don’t hear the backtalk,” says Isaac, “I’m sitting here providing for you, and you’re pissing on me.”

This marital discord finally resulted in catching, “the boys mom with another dude.” In this terrible moment for any marriage, Isaac is still proud of the restraint that he showed that day, “Don’t get me wrong, I punished the guy physically, I spit on him,” says Isaac, “I looked at her, I said thank you, I’ll be taking the boys and I won’t be seeing your ass for a very long time.”

After some time for reflection and anger venting, Isaac returned to the home of the man who had been cuckolding him, “I want to apologize to you,” Isaac said to the man, “because I have no right to put you in that position, to physically hurt you, and to make you beg for God’s mercy.” Against this backdrop, Isaac wondered what he was going to do with his two young sons.

“What is the best way to help them succeed? I’m into politics right now, I’ve got to figure out a way to better their future.” Most important to Peña was not giving them, “some bullshit ass America that’s going to be hated by the rest of the world.”

This drive to be able shape public policy, and work on the resolutions to problems, lead Peña to seek official office. In 2002, Peña says he ran against Eber Phelps for a seat in the Kansas legislature for District 111, which encompasses the whole of Ellis County. When Representative Phelps was contacted to give his assessment of Peña, Phelps’ response was enlightening, “I think he may have talked about running but don’t recall any campaign effort. He was not on the ballot in 2000, 2002 or 2004.”

As we continued talking, Peña explained more of the rationale behind his thirst for political power, “I was in D.C. from the end of 2002 to 2005, when I was a Fellow for the Bush (George W.) administration.” The White House Fellows program is an annual, ultra-prestigious program for leadership offered to a handful of the most exceptional young people in the United States. After finishing their year with whichever class they are in, Fellows often move on to become some of the most influential people in American society.

“Basically I worked in the Department of Health and Human Services, Department of Agriculture, and the Department of Education,” says Peña. “We kept track of any new legislation that affected those three areas and on a monthly basis we’d report it to the Bush administration.”

“I’d literally go across the country to California, Arizona and Massachusetts to look at head-start programs to see if they were being run efficiently,” says Peña.

This kind of position is highly coveted, and it takes a special kind of political zeal to get into. Isaac’s girlfriend of almost 6 years, Jenn Wilson, says that, “I get worried about having to move, or be away from our family in order for him to accomplish his dreams of making an impact on politics.”

There is also the downside of Jenn not being, “strongly involved with, or opinionated about politics, so sometime his passion for it can be a little much for me.”

This passion for politics, and the need to be involved with it, may ultimately prove to be Isaac’s undoing. The work involved in becoming a White House Fellow may require a Herculean effort, but uncovering the data about previous recipients is a Sisyphean task all of its own. Thankfully, Rice University has kept a comprehensive list of all recipients since the inaugural class of 1965-66. Isaac Peña is not among them.

So what exactly is driving this overwhelming desire to affect change on policy? As the night dwindled down to embers, Peña sank some more beers and mused about his marijuana themed merchandize business, and his attempt to get onto American Idol.

Peña’s ‘420’ business, which he set up in the 1990s with a friend, specializes in t-shirts, watches and other drug themed items.

The original plan had been to, “Create a watch company, call it ‘420’ watches, and then sell fucking watches with ‘420’ on them,” says Peña. The company turned huge profits in its prime in 1999, “Just a little under $100,000 in cash,” grins Isaac.

Peña had let the business slacken off for a period but was now considering resurrecting it because, “I could have cheese out of the wazoo.”

But how did Isaac see his ‘420’ brand, with all of its connotations, gelling with his own personal religious ideologies? In deference to his devout Catholicism, Peña had changed the meaning of the ‘420’ brand. With a seriousness more readily associated with visiting foreign dignitaries, Isaac explained that, “Instead of the International time to smoke pot, it became the International time for peace.”

With a straight face Peña continued onto how ‘The International Time For Peace’ brand would jibe with his Republican political affiliation, “Good luck trying to argue with a Republican about making money,” said Peña.

The American Idol story is a little harder to pin down. Peña says that, “My thought process was about how I was going to get into office.” He saw American Idol as a possible route in.

“Do you realize how many people watch American Idol? Do you realize how big of a market that is? It’s huge,” says Isaac. Isaac went on the program and sang a Stevie Wonder song and a couple of Spanish songs by Juanez. Peña didn’t make it far in the initial stage, and as such his plan for political domination remains unfulfilled.

Jenn Wilson suspects there might have been a little more too it anyway, “I think he probably did have a logical thought of promoting his political career but I would venture to guess that he would probably enjoy those 15 minutes of fame too! Why not right?”

As the evening reached its conclusion we climbed back up the slatted wooden stairs to Isaac’s loft where his two sons were preparing to help tidy up.

“Sometimes it can be annoying,” says Adam, “Or interesting,” interjects Noah, as the brothers talk about what it’s like to live with a man as driven as Isaac.

“It’s definitely a fun life, he encourages me to play lots of sports, just like he did at school,” says Adam.

Both Adam and Noah are in agreement about the ultimate life lesson that they have drilled into them every single day from the Isaac Peña handbook. A lesson that should be immediately obvious from the tenacious way that Peña sells his story to outsiders.

“Never give up,” says Adam as Noah nods in agreement, “Never give up.”

© 2012 Jamie M. Bradley All Rights Reserved

Jabari Carr Rings Rams Bell

While the Colorado State University marching band was put through its warm-up paces at Hughes stadium, long before the cleat-clad hooves of the CSU Rams hit the turf at the annual homecoming game, student workers like Kevin Freeman prepared to, “clean up after drunks who puke everywhere in the bathroom,” and vendors set up shop in the baking sun, readying themselves for the hordes of eager sports fans.

As the unseasonable heat became ever more oppressive, toilet attendant Hannah Cleveland attempted to get on task, “I’ve been assigned the student section bathrooms on the east side of the stadium, but the only thing that’s bothering me right now is the heat, it’s fucking hot.” Lillian Wheeler, a psychology major could only muster a single word response, “same.”

Six minutes before kick off the CSU flag began its fluttering journey down the length of the field. Two minutes later, the team emerged from the tunnel and chased Cam the Ram down the pitch, the crowd went wild, the cannon went off, and the rich people in the Rams Horn suites chugged their beers. This was to be the high point of the game.

As San Jose State scored their first touchdown, food server Jen was coasting along in the air-conditioned, VIP tower on the west side of the stadium, “ I’m cutting the prime rib, but I’m also watching the Brewers game on the TV.” On the opposite side of the room, barmaid Lily had less time on her hands, “All day I’m standing next to this liquor that I can’t drink, and there are constant waves of people wanting to be served.” However, Lily admitted, “There are some quiet times during the game, and we just sit here and talk, and I’m OK with that.”

The back and forth on the pitch continued as San Jose State made a mockery of the Rams defensive line and piled on the points, leaving the Rams down 24-14 at half time. Andy, a food server in the Rams Horn corporate suites, wasn’t too bothered, “I actually don’t watch too many plays, I think in the last game I saw a total of three plays, if the cannon goes off I can always just look at the replays.” Andy continued, “Actually its kind of nice if we (the Rams) lose as people go home faster and I can get off earlier.”

As storm clouds loomed behind the ‘A’ the concourse was in full swing. Throngs of drunks attempted to pillage the Black Angus Grill and inebriated students turned the concrete walkway into a urinal. Kevin Freeman wasn’t having a bad day either, “It’s been a lot easier than I expected, the worst I’ve gotten so far is someone thought they could clog the sink with paper towels, if that’s all you’ve got, if that’s the most creative you can be, then I’ve nothing to worry about.”  Unfortunately, Kevin had been too busy to actually watch the game, “I’ve been trying to listen to the crowds reaction and gather what’s going on from that.”

The third quarter saw frantic play in either direction; a Rams field goal was doubly negated by a San Jose State touchdown and a conversion, CSU responded in kind and the game was on. Third quarter score 31-24.

The skies darkened during the fourth quarter, and spectators were finally shielded from the retina-searing glare of the Colorado sun. Inexplicably, just as the Rams were gaining momentum the students began their mass exodus. Even as their support dwindled the Rams pulled it back to 31-31, but in the end it wasn’t enough. With just seconds on the clock an amazing play by San Jose State’s Jabari Carr sealed the CSU Rams fate. Carr’s unbelievable deep fade route wrong-footed Shaq Bell and killed the little passion that remained in the stadium.

As the sun set behind the foothills, and long after the cars had emptied from the parking lot, the stadium workers finally prepared to get out of the place. Workers slipped into their Saturday night attire, applied some deodorant, and headed down into Old Town.  Kevin Freeman summed up the feeling in the concrete cube that is the janitorial locker room, “Looks like there’s going to be some lucky ladies getting talked to tonight,” and in that moment, Homecoming football was over for another year.

© 2012 Jamie M. Bradley All Rights Reserved