Basic facts of the case
I have been a publisher and writer since 1967. I have
written and published 35 nonfiction books and have appeared five times on
the New York Times Bestseller List. (See books.)
I had a column with Universal Press Syndicate for 17 years. Yes, I am the
Peter McWilliams who wrote all those computer books in the late 70s and
early 80s. (See bio for
similar nonsense.)
In mid-March 1996, I was diagnosed with AIDS and an
AIDS-related cancer, non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, on the same day. (Beware the
Ides of March, indeed.)
The chemotherapy and radiation for the cancer and
combination therapy for the AIDS caused extreme nausea. If you can't keep
the life-saving pills in the system, they do no good. After trying all the
prescription anti-nausea medications my doctors had to offer, I turned to
medical marijuana.
The medical marijuana ended the nausea within minutes, and I
was able to continue treatment. The cancer went into remission. My AIDS
viral load dropped from 12,500 to undetectable and remained undetectable
from April 1996 until my arrest in July 1998.
I told myself that, if I lived, I would devote my life to
getting medical marijuana to all the sick people who needed it. I lived, and
I began my campaign.
In the fall of 1996 I met Todd McCormick, a medical
marijuana patient who was an expert at growing marijuana and of the way
different strains of marijuana (there are more than 30,000) are useful in
treating different illnesses. I commissioned him to write a book, How
to Grow Medical Marijuana. (my relationship with Todd is detailed in
the Introduction I wrote for How
to Grow Medical Marijuana.)
In February 1997, I began publication of the Medical
Marijuana Magazine Online. (Since my arrest and subsequent illness, I'm
afraid it has not been updated since August 1998, but you'll get the idea if
its purpose.)
In March 1997, Todd used a portion of his book advance to
rent the ugliest house in Bel Air. On a square-foot basis, it was cheaper
than commercial warehouse space.
I filed papers for The Medical Botanical Foundation, a
501(c)3 nonprofit charitable organization. I determined that the best way to
distribute medical marijuana was through pharmacies, and a nonprofit
organization was most likely to gain state and federal approval. After some
calculation, I determined that I could retail sterile medical marijuana of a
known a genetic strain and consistent potency for $1 a gram--$28 an ounce.
(The difference between $28 an ounce and $500 an ounce is what Milton
Freidman calls "the Drug-War tariff.")
On July 29, 1997—after an exhaustive five-day
investigation—50 federal Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and Los
Angeles Sheriff’s Narcotics Deputies stormed Todd’s home, flack jacketed
and guns drawn.
When I heard about it, I immediately sent out a press
release Who Is Todd McCormick?
The first press story--television, radio, and
print--relied exclusively on exaggerated, and on one point completely
dishonest, reports from unnamed "detectives. The Los Angeles Times
coverage on July 30,1997, was typical. Thousands
of Marijuana Plants Found in Mansion
At a press conference the next day, the DEA claimed Todd
had "more than 4,000 plants worth between $20 million and $27 million.
For an idea of the size of these plants, click here.
As the Los Angeles Times noted, "Many were seedlings rather than mature
plants."
At the same press conference, the DEA claimed Todd had
"purchased" a Bel Air "mansion" with "the proceeds
of drug sales." I immediately sent out another press release saying
that Todd rented the house with his author's advance provided by me.
I got on the phone and did radio talk shows. My
then-editor of the Medical Marijuana Magazine Online, Richard Cowen, talked
to the newspapers. We both did televised soundbites. The publicity
department of my publishing company kept the faxes and e-mail busy.
Overnight, the press coverage changed. Todd went from high-rolling drug
dealer to cancer-survivor medical marijuana patient. On July 31, 1997, the
Los Angeles Times featured this headline on the front page of its Metro
section: "Pot Palace" Used to
Grow Cancer Drugs.
I continued my pr campaign. I was on the phone 18 hours
a day. When Woody Harrelson offered to put up Todd's $500,000 bail, the
story because more popular than ever. When Todd emerged from federal custody
16 days after his arrest, he was a media hero. Advocate
of Medical Marijuana Out of Jail. The press conference after Todd's
release was attended by every major media outlet in Los Angeles and several
national news organizations, including CNN.
I had committed the unforgivable federal crime, EDP--
embarrassing the DEA in the press.
People ask, looking back on the
endless attacks on California medical marijuana patients that have occurred
since Todd’s arrest, "Why did any of you do what you did? Were you
all crazy?" If you read my Introduction to How to Grow Medical
Marijuana you know the answer. If you didn't and would like to know the
answer, please see this excerpt from
Introduction.
I was questioned by four DEA Special Agents. They gave
me an interesting--and telling--piece of information. All four said they had
known about me for some time, because most every bust they go on, they find
a copy of my book Ain't
Nobody's Business if You Do: The Absurdity of Consensual Crimes in Our Free
Country. They didn't say it, but it was clear that, to them,
I was the guy who wrote the bestselling book against the Vietnam War, the
DEA Special Agents were the Green Berets. I was a traitor to their cause,
and I was spreading my treachery through the written word. My
recollection of DEA questioning.
Scott Hass, the other co-defendant whose marijuana
"manufacturing" I supposedly financed, was hired to be the
president of my publishing company. It didn't work out, but because he had
to relocate from Washington to Los Angeles, I felt it only fair to give him
a generous severance package and use of the company vehicle through the end
of 1997. I knew nothing of his grow operations--if, indeed, he had any--and
saw him only once (Thanksgiving, I think) from the time he left Prelude
Press in late August 1997 until after his arrest in December 1997.
That is the sum total of my drug kingsmanship: a book
advance to Todd; a severance package to my publishing company president.
On December 1, 1997, I published as an advertisement in Variety
a two-page essay highly critical of then-DEA Administrator Constantine's
harsh criticism of the sitcom character Murphy Brown's use of medical
marijuana to quell the nausea of chemotherapy. Variety
ad.
As you can yell by even a quick skim of the Variety ad,
the DEA was not happy with moi. Seventeen days later, on December 17,
1999, nine DEA agents came a-callin' with the IRS and a search warrant in
tow. I was handcuffed, sat in a chair, and watched as they spend the next
three hours going through every piece of paper, sheet by sheet, in my home.
They found an ounce or two of medical marijuana, but they didn't seem to be
looking for drugs; they were looking for information.
The DEA and IRS agents then repeated this at my
brother's house and at the office of my publishing company, Prelude Press,
Inc. Of eight computers they had to choose from, they took only my personal
computer, the one with my unfinished books on it. Their reason for taking
this was that they were looking for records of drug transactions. If this
were the case, why didn't they take the computer in the accounting
department at Prelude Press? Could they have been looking for something
else, such as that book critical of the DEA I told them I was working on?
They also took "eight plastic bags" of documents that I was not
allowed to see and which have not yet been returned.
A division of the DEA with which
I have never come into contact
When
the computer containing all my books-in-progress was returned to me a month
later, it had somehow caught a pernicious virus that took six weeks, several
thousand dollars, and the purchase of a new computer to eliminate. The gap
this caused in my publishing business was financially devastating.
Then began the Starr Treatment. One after another,
federal grand jury subpoenas began arriving at my home and publishing
company--some were for records, some were for people. During the next seven
months every current employee, an unknown number of past employees, all my
friends, my neighbor, and my electrician were called to testify before the
grand jury. I was never called nor was I ever given an opportunity to
present my side of the story. It's called a grand jury because it's a grand
time for prosecutors. My
medical records were subpoenaed. My accountant was ordered to produce
overnight, in the middle of the tax season, all references in his files
about me. This was quite a request, as he had been my account for thirty
years. (After this, understandably, my accountant chose to no longer
represent me. All but one of my employees have left as well.)
The DEA, with
the full cooperation of the Lexus Company, installed a tracking device on my
Lexus. (The DEA came onto private property, broke the car, and when it was
towed to the Lexus dealership for repair, the tracking device was installed.
The device failed to work, as it turns out, so the DEA and the Lexus
dealership repeated the whole charade again.)
After
tracking it for a few months, the DEA impounded the car overnight, thus
triggering the lease revocation clause. That’s a little-known clause in
every lease that says if a federal agency impounds the car, even overnight,
the lease is revoked and the entire amount of the lease becomes due. I
didn’t have that amount, so my credit was ruined. I wrote the president of
Lexus, as the car was financed through Lexus, and asked for some compassion.
Right. Janet Reno has shown me more kindness.
If the government thought these tactics would intimidate
me, it was wrong. In May 1998 I announced the formation of a new
publishing company, the Medical Marijuana Press. The books included such
government-pleasing titles as The Big Lie: Medical Marijuana and Our
United States Government; The Same People Who Sold Us Cigarettes Are Selling Us The
War on Drugs: The Advertising Industry, The Partnership for a Drug-Free
America, and a Dark Day for American Capitalism; and DEA: The Covert International Military Organization That
Creates Its Own War So It Can Keep On Fighting to Win It. The
complete list of titles. Due to my arrest two months later and my subsequent illness,
not one book on the list has reached print.
On July 4, 1998. I gave a speech before the Libertarian
Party National Convention in Washington D.C. I praised medical marijuana and
condemned the federal government for keeping it from sick people. It was
broadcast nationally on C-SPAN. Audio
of the speech (Click below the headline "Peter McWilliams
arrested." As you listen you can browse the Libertarian Party site; the
audio will continue playing.) Edited transcript of
the speech (but the audio is more fun).
Nineteen days later, on July 23, 1999, nine DEA agents
again came to my door at 6:00 AM. This time they didn't want my
computer--they wanted me. I was arrested, handcuffed, and taken--as they say
in all the cop shows--"downtown." Naturally, I was not permitted
the use of medical marijuana before leaving the house, so I vomited. One of
the DEA agents, genuinely concerned, asked, "Isn't there something you
can take to settle your stomach?" I turned my head from the bowl long
enough to give him the sort of wearily
ironic look we gay folk perfected sometime around the Inquisition era, when,
just before being burned at the stake, the executioner would ask, “I’m
not tying these ropes too tight, am I?” The agent saw the error of his
sudden burst of compassion, said, “Oh, yeah,” and continued processing
my arrest with the trained indifference Hormel provides to hogs.
An
accurate and amusing summary of the indictment by Warren Whipple.
(You've heard of Cliff's Notes; these are Whipple Notes.) The federal indictment
itself: The United States of America v. Peter
McWilliams, et. al. (I call it The Ladybug Conspiracy because it
repeatedly characterizes the buying of ladybugs in sinister tones, as though
their purchase is a federal crime.) This is an exceedingly dull document and
I do not recommend you waste your time. It does, however, give lie to the
first point of the DEA Mission Statement:
"Investigation
and preparation for prosecution of major violators of controlled substances
laws operating at interstate and international levels." We were not
"major violators," nor did we operate "at interstate and
international levels." We were all within a few miles of each other.
Although
I fully expected to be arrested, the high bond was a surprise. Months
before, my lawyer had written the federal prosecutors a letter saying that I
knew I was going to be arrested, that I wasn’t going anywhere, and all
they had to do was tell me where and when to appear for arraignment and
I’d be there. Hardly the action of a flight risk. I though I would be
released with little or no bail. The court’s own pretrial services
recommended a bond of $50,000. The prosecutors, however, insisted on
$250,000. As usual in federal court, the prosecutors got what they wanted. I was in
custody four weeks while my mother and brother arranged to put up their
houses as bail. The combined value of the houses was not enough, and a
friend put up the rest in cash.
While in federal custody I was denied my AIDS medications
for the first nine days. When I finally got them they didn't do much good as
I could not keep them down for long. I was denied the only prescription
medication that helps relieve the nausea even a little, Marinol® (synthetic
THC, one of medical marijuana's active ingredients).
While
in custody, on August 3, 1998, I realized that precisely 30 years before, as
s teenager, I had been arrested for marijuana possession in Michigan. I
mused philosophic on this. August 3rd, 1998: I,
Too, Have a Dream. Later in August I posted this brief press release
from behind bars, An Unsettling Irony.
The conditions of my release on bail specifically
prohibited the use of marijuana, a prohibition enforced by random urine
testing. If I failed to meet this condition of release, my disabled
mother’s and brother’s houses would be taken away and I would remain in
prison until and during my trial.
The nausea caused by the AIDS medication has been
unrelenting. My doctor prescribed one antinausea medication after another,
to no avail. Using medical marijuana to keep down my combination therapy
resulted in more than two years of an “undetectable” viral load. (The
viral load is a measure of active AIDS virus per milliliter of blood.) AIDS
doctors become alarmed when it rises above 10,000. When mine had reached its
previous high of 12,500 in March 1996, an AIDS-related cancer,
non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, had already developed.
Unable
to keep down my AIDS medication, my viral load rose from 279 on August 21,
1998, to 3,789 by October 20, 1998. Less than two weeks later, on November
2, 1998, it had skyrocketed to 254,600. My T-cells (helper cells central to
immune-system function) fell by 26 percent. In the three months following
the arrest I lost 30 pounds, 15 percent of my total body weight.
On December 1, 1998, my attorney, Thomas J. Ballanco,
brought an emergency verbal motion before the federal Magistrate Judge in
the case, the Hon. Andrew J. Wistrich, asking that the restriction on
medical marijuana be removed from my conditions of bail in order to save my
life. One of the federal prosecutors, after speaking with my physician,
actually seemed concerned. He asked for 48 hours to contact the Justice
Department in Washington to see if something might be worked out. Apparently
Justice (“Just ice”) said no, for on December 3, 1998, the same federal
prosecutor argued that the “no marijuana” restriction, as well as drug
testing, should remain in place. On Pearl Harbor Day, 1998, the magistrate
judge issued a ruling, denying the verbal motion.
On January
15, 1999, my attorney filed a written motion to be heard by the federal
judge who will preside over the trial, the Hon. George King. Judge King was
presented with a letter from one of my physicians, Dr.
Bowers, and a letter from a physician who is an expert on Marinol®, Dr.
Cohan. The federal prosecutors represented Dr. Cohan as someone opposed
to smoked medical marijuana. Dr. Cohan was kind enough to set the record
straight. (NOTE: These two letters take a little over two minutes to
download with a 28K modem.)
The
government responded on January 29, 1999. Not surprisingly, it took the
attitude: “Marijuana is not medicine because Congress says it’s not
medicine, federal law supercedes California state law, we don’t care what
his doctors say, if McWilliams dies, he dies.” Astonishingly, the paltry
exhibits the prosecutors included as “proof” that marijuana is not
medicine clearly acknowledge in two places that marijuana is medicine
for people with AIDS and for people with intractable nausea who have not
responded to other antinausea medications—precisely my situation. Were the
prosecutors trying to help me prove my case, or did they just not bother to
read the exhibits before attaching them?
U.S. to Fight Man's
Plea to Use Medicinal Marijuana, Los Angeles Times, February 26, 1999.
ACLU press release on my use of medical
marijuana while on bail (NOTE: This page takes 5 minutes to download on a
28K modem)
Although
Judge King "struggled hard and mightily" with the issue, he denied
my motion on March 4, 1999, but
encouraged the government any my lawyer to work together to develop an
“appropriate accommodation.”
Judge Denies AIDS
Patient's Request for Marijuana, Los Angeles Times, March 10, 1999; McWilliams Ruling,
Letter to the Editor and my reply to that letter, Los Angeles Times, March 16, 1999.
My letter to the Los Angeles Times about the letter McWilliams Ruling
expresses my feelings about Judge King's ruling.
My attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he might begin
negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
Although the ruling was a disappointment, two weeks
later came glorious news. The National Academy of Sciences Institute of
Medicine (IOM) report, Marijuana
and Medicine: Assessing the Science Base. The IOM report found that
(a) marijuana is medicine, (b) marijuana is not a gateway drug, (c)
there is currently no alternative to smoked marijuana for some patients, (d)
patients who need medical marijuana should be able to obtain approval within
24 hours, (e) if marijuana is addictive at all it is only mildly so and any
withdrawal symptoms are minimal, and (f) there is no reason to believe that
medical marijuana will increase recreational marijuana use.
Meanwhile, my attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he
might begin negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
A Poet in Exile
The Los Angeles Times' best columnist, Al Martinez, wrote a very
generous piece about me for the Sunday, April 4, 1999, edition.
Meanwhile, my attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he
might begin negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
From November 1998 onward I have not been able to hold down more than
one on three doses of my AIDS medication. The high AIDS viral load feels as
though I have the flu all the time. I sleep 18 to 20 hours a day. I have
maybe four productive hours in every 24, most of them spent trying to keep
my head financially above water. I have so much to say, so many ideas and
discoveries I want to communicate, and very little time or clarity of mind
to do so.
Meanwhile, my attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he
might begin negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
The emotional pressure is sometimes worse than the physical, I could
develop an AIDS-related opportunistic infection and be dead within a week.
To avoid germies I don't go anywhere. I have left my house maybe ten times
since my August 1998 release from custody, for court hearings and medical
appointments. My mother and brother worry about me, and I worry about them
worrying about me. The specter of spending the rest of my life in federal
prison haunts me like the ghost of Christmas future. The good news is that
time goes by very quickly when you're only awake four hours a day.
Meanwhile, my attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he
might begin negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
Todd's attorneys and my attorney worked hard on a total of 14 motions
and presented them to the court. Thirteen and one-half of them were denied.
Meanwhile, my attorney left messages with the prosecutors so that he
might begin negotiating with the government to find an "appropriate accommodation."
The government said it would, "Get back to you soon."
Along the way, the lead federal prosecutor in the case quit the
government and went into private practice with Monica Lewinski' s first
attorney, the bearded one who "kissed her inner thigh" when she
was an infant. Small world, isn't it?
On August 30, 1999, after months of dialog,
the government informed my attorney that an agreement regarding my use of
medical marijuana was impossible.
Then came the best news since the passage of Proposition 215 in 1996.
On September 13, 1999, the federal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals--the court
that will hear all appeals in my case--ruled that medical marijuana
("cannabis" the court called it) was necessary for some patients
and the government must "balance" the need to enforce the drug
laws with the need of patients to obtain necessary medicine. Los Angeles
Times front-page article, Medical
Need a Factor in Pot Cases, Court Says, September 14, 1999; Medical
Marijuana Issue Raised, Associated Press, September 14, 1999; Complete
text of ruling, Los Angeles Times Article on ruling's possible effect on
my case, AIDS Patient Pin Hopes
on Pot Ruling, September 20, 1999.
On September 15, 1999, my lawyer again
petitioned Judge King based on the IOM Report, the failure to negotiate an
“appropriate accommodation” with the government, the 9th Circuit ruling,
and my ongoing toboggan ride to death. The court denied my
application without a hearing on September 22, 1999, clearing the way for a
filing before the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. Press
release.
On November 5, 1999, disaster: the trial
judge ruled I cannot use medical marijuana defense, nor can I mention
Proposition 215, marijuana's medical usefulness, the 8 patients who get
medical marijuana monthly from the federal government, or my medical
condition. Press Release, November
5, 1999, Los Angeles Times/Associated
Press article, November 6, 1999, New
York Times Story, November 7, 1999.
2-2-2000 (what a date!) Wonderful, wonderful news! Although
it costs me four hours of agony each day,
my AIDS viral load is now UNDETECTABLE!
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