Naive Gringo Pill Popped Below Border

On January 1, the Lindells' insurance carrier decided it would no longer pay for prescriptions for brand-name Valium, and Norma was convinced that the generic equivalent was substandard.

Out of pocket, the cost of the premium narcotic was about $600 a month. Which forced Lindell, Burkhart's earnestly told every media outlet that would listen, to do what lots of senior citizens on limited incomes do.

He started traveling to Mexico to get the medication for his wife. Lindell made his first visit to Nogales and picked up a two-month supply for $120. Same m.o. as the time he got caught, he says. No problem.

"There's a good reason my mom takes Valium," Burkhart insists. "Since [these tragedies] happened, she's become a recluse. We pretty much take care of her."

Although Burkhart says he knows generic and brand-name medications are exactly the same, his mother couldn't be convinced. People who take prescriptions for nervous conditions are often hesitant to switch to a generic equivalent, contends Burkhart, as he begins to tell his stepfather's story. The Lindells informed their physician they would be going south of the border to purchase the medication, he says, and the doctor wrote her a prescription for three months' worth of the narcotic.

On May 19, Lindell took his wife's prescription, left his beautiful Moon Valley home and headed south in his gleaming white Cadillac for his second pharmacy run. He made his way to a pharmacy just across the line, although he couldn't say which one. Lindell could only recall seeing the word "discount" on the storefront, but most every pharmacy in Nogales advertises discount medicines.

Lindell presented his wife's Arizona prescription and handed over the $200 in cash. He didn't get a receipt for the 270 pills.

Lindell left the pharmacy and walked down the street, pausing at another store to look for a wallet for himself and a necklace for his wife. The young woman approached him, telling him she knew he had Valium in the bag and that it was illegal for him to carry very much across the border. She offered to walk it across herself, for $150, and he recoiled.

When Lindell exited the store a short while later, two plainclothes policemen stopped him and asked what was in the bag. They looked inside and inquired, "Is this for you?"

Lindell, whom his relatives maintain is painfully honest, said no and was arrested and taken to jail. He believes the situation would have been better for him if he had answered that he was purchasing the narcotic for personal use.

He was charged with illegal possession of drugs, possession with intent to transport and possession of drugs in a quantity for sale.

It was later that night that he was allowed to use the phone and called home with the names of a few Mexican attorneys he had been told about.

This was Wednesday night, and he informed his family that he wouldn't be allowed by police to see them until Saturday, at which time Burkhart traveled to Nogales to meet the lawyer he had hired over the phone and paid a $2,500 retainer for Lindell's defense.

Lindell's arraignment was set for the following Monday, and the attorney made a flurry of requests. He wanted medical records that would document Norma Lindell's nervous condition, a letter from her doctor, even a marriage certificate. It was all to be presented to the court on Monday.

Burkhart says he scrambled to put the records together that weekend, but was informed in court on Monday that it was too late to present such information and that Lindell would be formally charged on Thursday.

At that time, a judge threw out the two counts of possession of narcotics and possession with intent to sell, but kept the count of possession with intent to transport across an international border. Lindell was given a choice: either accept the charge and wait one to two years for a trial, or appeal. The latter could take two to three months for a court to consider, at which point Lindell would be allowed to present the evidence the judge refused to hear at his arraignment.

Naturally, Lindell appealed.

At first, Lindell had slept on the floor of his jail cell using his shoes as a pillow. The family soon found out they could bring him supplies, went to Wal-Mart on the American side of the border and bought food, a sleeping bag, a cot and some stomach medication, since Lindell had become ill from eating prison food.

"He had been incarcerated with the general population for four days," Burkhart says, "until we learned we could move him into a better area for $600 -- that is, a pod where he has room to set up his cot in a hallway."

Each Saturday, Lindell's family visited him, bringing supplies, money and mousetraps to keep rodents away from his small cache of victuals.

Lindell slowly learned the system.