I'm reading "Methland: The Death and Life of a Small Town," a recent book about the impact of crystal meth on the small town of Oelwein, Iowa. Author Nick Reding explores what must be the most devastating storm to hit the Midwest since the Dust Bowl of the Thirties.
Reding writes with fondness for an intriguing band of hometown characters:
-- Clay Hallberg, the family doctor, who knows everyone and doesn't miss much.
-- Lori Arnold, the entrepreneurial meth marketing queen of the Midwest who after her first prison term began a second career as a middlewoman for the big Mexican cartels who needed local help to hustle their mountains of dope across the boundary lines of racial prejudice.
-- "Batcher" and super-addict Roland Jarvis, who burned his own nose off his face and still keeps the warm pipe close at hand.
-- Police Chief Jeremy Logan and his crew of skinhead cops, who wage a minor guerrilla war on local cooks and tweakers.
Reding interweaves his stories with an insightful analysis of farming history, DEA strategies, the power shift from Colombian to Mexican drug cartels, and the general collapse of small-town economies in the face of globalized competition that pushes down wages and leaves standing only large-scale operators like Tyson meat packing plants.
From topics of Nazi Dope brewed on bicycles to blown-out brain neurotransmitters to burned out crank-lab trailers to vacant store fronts and empty city coffers, Reding reveals hidden dimensions of an epidemic that's transforming rural communities in the Midwest.
A recent movie addresses similar topics of meth's impact on a family in the Missouri Ozarks. Look for "Winter's Bone" at this year's Oscars. Haunting.
No comments:
Post a Comment