marginal drug that was, in any case, possibly not even ice.
âA lot of the time users say theyâve taken ice or shabu, when really itâs just speed,â Dillon said. At the time he was right, going by the research. But the police were telling a different story.
In Victoria, the head of the drug squad, Detective Chief Inspector John McKoy, sounded the first alarms about ice in July 1998.
Informants in universities and TAFE colleges were telling police that pills being sold as ecstasy were in fact a mixture of other ingredients, including methamphetamine. For users expecting an ecstasy trip, the difference was quite stark. Whereas ecstasy produces a quasi-hallucinogenic, âwarmâ high, enriching sensory perceptions, an amphetamine or methamphetamine high is more âedgyâ, prompting the user to talk in a vigorous rush, act extremely energetically and, finally, endure a prolonged, anxious and depressed comedown.
A month after his initial warnings, Chief Inspector McKoy announced that Victorian police had charged four students from Holmesglen TAFE with possessing 200 grams of methamphetamine after a raid on a house in Glenferrie Road, near the Hawthorn Football Clubâs famous ground in eastern Melbourne. The students, Indonesian nationals, had been trying to sell the meth to undercover police officers. As no manufacturing equipment was found, the police assumed that the drug was imported from Asia.
This wasnât just another drug bust. Chief Inspector McKoy became one of the first law enforcement officials to warn of iceâs uniquely dangerous properties.
âThe experts tell us users really do turn to violence when under the influence of ice and that is one of the great concerns that we have,â he told reporters. âIt even scares some experienced junkies . . . it makes them feel like they are going to explode.
âOne of the side effects is that users tend to continue using to avoid the withdrawal off it, because once they start to withdraw it gives them the worst feeling possible, over and above every type of other illicit drug.â
The Victorian drug squad chief was onto something, pushing the ice issue from another drug story of manufacture/ trafficking/law enforcement towards a recognition of what ice did from the userâs point of view. As every drug taker knows, substances have their own personalities. Australians were about to discover more about the personality of crystal methamphetamine. But it was going to take a human tragedy to open their eyes.
The first Australian to die as a direct result of methamphetamine (as opposed to amphetamine) abuse might not have been Darri Denis Haynes, but he was the first to come to public attention. Haynes, 37 years old in September 1999, took stimulants for one of the oldest and most common reasons: he was a long-distance truck driver. Since the Second World War, the most prevalent use of amphetamine wasnât to treat asthma or ADD or even to facilitate a good time at a party; it was to keep workers awake and alert. And while Japanese fighter pilots and other combat soldiers, munitions workers and world leaders were the first occupational guinea pigs, in the decades since the biggest professional amphetamine users around the world were drivers like Haynes.
In the week leading up to 1 September 1999, Haynes had driven his articulated semitrailer a total of 5468 kilometres for a company called Jim Hitchcock Haulage. On 30 and 31 August, Haynes drove approximately 1300 kilometres from Brisbane to Nowra, on the south coast of New South Wales, to transport a load of bricks; he washed his truck, returned to Brisbane, and was then taking a load of crates from Coca-Cola back down to Sydney, another 1000 kilometres. During those two days he had five hoursâ sleep.
Twice a day he talked over the phone to a longstanding friend and fellow truckie, Leonard Duncan Mackellar. His last call to Mackellar came on 1 September from