HELENA—Alcohol costs state government—and Montana taxpayers—dearly.

Montana spends nearly $19 million a year to regulate the sale of booze and treat some of the obvious alcohol-related problems.

That's greater than the annual budget for the Montana Highway Patrol, which is about $16.6 million.

Since most alcoholics deny they have a problem, however, hidden costs drive the state's spending up significantly.

Hidden costs may total an additional $135 million, according to a Tribune analysis.

That's more than the state spends on the university system, about $120 million a year.

"I can't quarrel with your numbers," said Dave Lewis, director of the governor's budget office. "It's certainly eye-opening to see the amount of money that alcohol costs the state."

State Liquor Revenues

This year, Montana expects to receive $21.8 million through liquor sales, selling liquor licenses and taxing liquor, wine and beer.

After subtracting the administrative costs of issuing liquor licenses and collecting the taxes, that leaves the state roughly $21 million in profit. Here's how we spend it—and much more.

Treating Abuse

State health officials spend millions of dollars treating substance abuse—primarily alcohol but also drug abuse. Some of those programs use federal funds that are administered by the state.

Montana spends $5.5 million on substance-abuse treatment programs, said Dan Anderson, administrator of the state health department's Addictive and Mental Disorders Division.

It also spends $2.5 million to operate the Montana Chemical Dependency Center in Butte, plus an additional $1 million on regional and county centers.

Anderson said $3 million is spent on a federal alcohol-prevention program, and another $163,000 on an indigent youth treatment program.

In addition, the division spends about $850,000 on dealing with high-risk pregnancies and caring for the young children of high-risk mothers. The program served 1,400 women across the state, of whom 25 percent reported alcohol abuse and 9 percent illicit drug use, so one-fourth of the funding for high-risk pregnancies could be considered a hidden cost.

Known costs: $12.2 million.

Hidden costs: $212,500.

Foster Care

Montana spends about $40 million on adoption assistance, foster care and assisted independent living programs.

Montana has 2,000 to 2,200 children in foster care on any given day, said Shirley Tiernan, chief of the health department's family services bureau.

"Alcohol use is a big factor in children being removed from their homes," said Tiernan. "Most of our foster care cases are related to alcohol."

Roughly three-quarters of the cases have underlying chemical dependency issues, estimated Chuck Hunter, head of the health department's Division of Child and Family Services.

That's a hidden cost of about $30 million, but even cutting that in half could be a cost of $15 million.

Known costs: None.

Hidden costs: $15 million.

Family Violence

The state spends $703,000 to counsel children on domestic violence.

How much of that can be attributed to alcohol abuse?

"Most of our domestic abuse cases involve alcohol, either by one or both parties," said Great Falls Police Chief Bob Jones.

"Alcohol plays a great part," the chief added. "People get angry, don't try to defuse the situation, and that leads to assaults."

Last year, Montana instituted a Domestic Violence Program with a statewide budget of $652,000.

According to figures provided by the YWCA Mercy Home, domestic abuse costs Montana businesses more than $10 million a year in absenteeism and medical bills.

Again, Hunter estimated that about three-quarters of the domestic abuse cases have underlying chemical dependency causes.

Three-quarters of the costs of domestic abuse would be $8.5 million. To be conservative, cutting that figure in half would be $4.25 million.

Known costs: None.

Hidden costs: $4.25 million.

Counseling

Montana spends $260,000 a year on its Employee Assistance Program, which says that only 4 percent of the state workers report substance abuse problems.

That seems low in light of the fact that the health department estimates that 9 percent of the adults in the state need substance abuse treatment.

Great Falls counselor Wava Goetz recently reviewed the 700 cases she has handled over the past five years and came to a startling discovery.

Two-thirds of her cases were alcohol-related.

Known costs: $260,000.

Hidden costs: None.

Welfare

There's also the welfare world. The state spends $89 million in federal Medicaid funds, $52.4 million on food stamps, and $26.7 million on the FAIM (Families Achieving Independence in Montana) program.

It spends an additional $16 million on child-care funds to cushion the transition from welfare to entry-level job wages, plus $185,000 to stock the state food bank network.

State health department officials estimate that 25 percent to 50 percent of their clients are unable to hold jobs because of their alcohol abuse. The low end of that estimate would be $46 million.

Known costs: None.

Hidden costs: $46 million.

Mental Illness

The state spends $84.4 million on treating mental illness. Much is not related to alcohol, but some is.

"There are clearly some people suffering from mental illness due to alcohol or drug use, either by themselves or by their parents," said Anderson.

"And it's often impossible to determine which is the primary problem," he added.

Anderson noted that 26 percent of the patients admitted to state mental hospitals have a dual diagnosis with a mental illness and chemical dependency. That percentage of the mental health budget would be $21.9 million, but halving that cost to be conservative makes it about $11 million.

Known costs: Unknown.

Hidden costs: $11 million.

Developmental Disabilities

The state spends about $38 million to fund developmental disability centers in each county, as well as the Montana Developmental Center and Eastmont, but alcohol and drug abuse aren't a significant problem, said Joe Mathews, who heads the heath department's Disabilities Services Division.

"FAS/FAE patients are present, but not in a significant number," Mathews said.

Known costs: None.

Hidden costs: Low.

2.

The Corrections System

DEER LODGE—Clive Kinlock is serving 70 years in prison for a violent crime fueled by alcohol.

That's an all-too-common problem here.

At the Montana State Prison, 85 percent of inmates are behind bars because of behavior caused by alcohol or drug abuse, according to chemical dependency counselors.

"I know a few people in here who say they don't have a drug or alcohol problem," inmate Marty Quick said in a recent interview, "but I don't believe I know any that I actually believe."

It's a costly problem, more so than most taxpayers realize. The state spent $46.8 million last year locking away its adult criminals and another $1.5 million on prerelease centers and parole officers.

Those figures don't include expenses for county or city jails.

The U.S. prison population is on the rise—from 1980 to 1996 it tripled, in large part because of criminal activity spawned by drug and alcohol abuse, according to the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University.

Although illegal drugs share the blame, alcohol was the real culprit, center chairman Joseph A. Califano, Jr., said.

"Contrary to conventional wisdom and popular myth, alcohol is more tightly linked with violent crime than crack, cocaine, heroin or any illegal drug," Califano said in a report last year.

Booze is why Kinlock is serving a 70-year sentence at the prison, a sprawling complex surrounded by guard towers and fences in the shadow of the Bitterroot Mountains.

A native of Jamaica, Kinlock was stationed at Malmstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls, but got kicked out of the service because of his violent behavior.

"I was blasted, and a couple of guys got in my face," he said quietly in a recent interview. "I dealt with it the best way that I could, which was physical violence."

As his military career was ending, Kinlock increasingly was unable to deal with the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood.

"Marriage drove me to drink," he said. "Baby after baby caused me to run from responsibility. Drink caused me not to be the husband I could have been or the father I should have been."

"That was a simple lack of responsibility on my part."

In November 1991, as the bank was foreclosing on his Great Falls home, Kinlock spent the night drinking, then abducted the barmaid, raped her several times and slit her throat.

"When I woke up the next morning and realized what I had done, I wanted to turn myself in," he said. "Then the police took matters out of my hands and arrested me."

"I sobered up real quick then."

Expanding Programs

Recognizing the need for treatment, the 1995 Montana Legislature expanded the prison's chemical dependency program and funded six counseling positions.

But even that wasn't enough. Waiting lists contained the names of 500 or 600 inmates seeking help, and Ken Ingle, supervisor of the Prison's Substance Abuse Program, was forced to concentrate on treating those closest to release.

With a 70-year sentence, Kinlock wasn't eligible for a treatment program, but he wasn't about to be stopped by a mere policy.

"Clive was one of the meanest p----s in this institution," said Bill Martin, head counselor on the prison's high-security side. "He did a lot of fighting in the yard, and he hurt a lot of people."

Kinlock's perspective changed, though, when his wife came to visit him in prison and he wasn't allowed to hold his newborn son.

"I realized then that I would never have a significant role in my son's life," Kinlock said. "So I decided to connect with my higher power to become a better person."

That wasn't easy to do, however.

"Clive was in communication with me for six months, persuading me to get him into the program," Martin said. "He was so persuasive that I finally let him in. I figured he'd probably break in about a month, but he took off, and now he's a real leader, a positive force in my groups."

Key Is Changed Thinking

The substance-abuse program is designed to help chemically dependent offenders by breaking down their denial and leading them to voluntary self change.

At a recent group meeting, inmates talked about their problems. One convict discussed his anger when he got only beatings from an alcoholic father while his younger brothers got toys and new clothing.

"One day, my brother got a new jacket, and I was jealous," he said. "So I poured gasoline on it and set it on fire and told him to go jump in a mud puddle."

"You've had an awful childhood, and you've done some awful things yourself, but you can't go on being a victim and using that as an excuse to keep going down the same path," counselor Dan Oberweiser told the inmate.

Similarly, Oberweiser said many inmates use their drinking as an excuse to continue criminal behavior.

"We usually committed our crimes sober and then partied later," agreed another inmate. "But when I got caught, I'd tell them I was drunk and plead diminished capacity."

The groups spend a lot of time looking at a chart called "errors in thinking," a list of excuses people use for continuing criminal behavior: things like being a victim themselves, being irresponsible, having personal fears and a need to control events and people.

"For years, we used to turn loose clean and sober criminals," Oberweiser said. "Now we have found that we need to change their thinking.

"Many of them don't like themselves, and that's why they self-medicate" with drugs and alcohol.

Learning to Live With Self

For Kinlock, sobriety and treatment meant coming to terms with the consequences of his crimes.

"I began thinking about the pain I caused my own family, but also the pain I caused my victim and her family," he said. "That's when I knew I needed help."

Kinlock said he can make between $20 and $25 a month working for the prison's chemical dependency program. He has begun sending $10 a month to a battered women's shelter.

"That's my way of making amends," he said. "Before everything happened to me, I battered my own spouse.

"I'm not proud of it," he said slowly, "but I feel I'm one of the reasons those places came about, so I want to help. It's a way of healing, of learning to live with myself."

Kinlock is still married, but his wife and family live in Calgary and he sees them only about once a year.

He also expects to be deported to Jamaica when he finishes his sentence.

For now, however, he works as an inmate counselor with the chemical dependency program on the high-security side, which provides a huge challenge—even behind bars.

"It's still about choice," Kinlock said. "It would still be real easy to go back into the unit and smoke a joint or drink some pruno," a prison-fermented liquor made of fruit and sugar-water.

Virtually everyone is prone to such temptations, Kinlock said.

"In this institution, I don't believe I've run into five people who didn't have a problem with alcohol or drugs in the commission of their crimes or in the aftermath," he said...

Journalists interested in reading the series can find an expanded version in Newhouse's book, Alcohol: Cradle to Grave, published by Hazeldon, Center City, Minn, 2001. The book describes the reasons the year-long project was undertaken and how the reporter and editors dealt with some of the ethical issues that turned up.