FORMER JUDGE NOW HELPS OTHER ADDICTED LAWYERS

Terry Sherrill was young and powerful, one of Charlotte's elite. He was
only 28, with a promising career ahead of him as a judge.

But Sherrill, who'd become the first African American to win a contested
Superior Court judgeship in North Carolina in the 20th century, was living
a lie. He was addicted to cocaine.

Sherrill's life crumbled in March 1990 when he was caught in his parked
Toyota 4-Runner -- with its special judicial license tag J 26 C -- in a
cloud of marijuana smoke. Inside were a marijuana cigarette, a glass pipe
and a tube containing cocaine residue.

Nine days later, Sherrill acknowledged his wrongdoing and resigned his
$70,000-a-year judgeship in disgrace.

It was the low point of his life.

It would get worse.

"I was devastated," Sherrill said recently in his most detailed interview
about his arrest 12 years ago that shocked Charlotte and its legal
community. "I had let myself down. I had let my family down. I had let my
friends down. And I let the legal community down. I could have been a role
model to so many people. I wasn't."

Sherrill at first avoided jail. But he couldn't stay away from drugs. Four
months after his arrest, he was fired by Duke Power Co. for failing a
company drug test.

This time, there was no second chance. Sherrill, who as a judge had
punished drug addicts, sometimes sending them to prison, pleaded guilty to
possession of cocaine, marijuana and drug paraphernalia and spent two
months in jail.

Today, Sherrill has his law license back. He says he hasn't had a drink of
alcohol or used illegal drugs in more than 12 years. And he's working with
the N.C. State Bar to help lawyers overcome addictions to alcohol and drugs.

He's thankful his world came crashing down when it did.

"I don't think I'd be alive today had I not been caught," Sherrill, now 47,
said. "I don't think I would have survived the continued use and abuse of
drugs. Drugs would have killed me."

In the months before being busted, Sherrill's cocaine habit had spun out of
control. He spent $400 to $600 a week on the drug.

He had been using drugs since enrolling in 1973 as a freshman and Morehead
scholar at UNC Chapel Hill. At first, his drug use was limited to
marijuana. He later experimented with LSD, amphetamines and mescaline. And
by 1980, he was using cocaine.

"I did drugs for the feeling, the euphoria, the high. I never felt until
the end -- after I was arrested -- that my drug use was out of control."

At first, months would go by without him snorting cocaine. Then, there were
times he'd snort the drug every weekend. Soon, he was using it on
weeknights. Even smoking crack.

His addiction put a financial strain on his family. He could still support
his wife and two sons -- one 7 years old, the other born just three months
before his arrest. But he had to put off buying furniture and a new car.

"I needed the money for drugs."

Sherrill kept his habit a secret. Only a few good friends knew.

His arrest brought relief. "I felt like a burden had been lifted from me
because of the life I had been living," he recalls. "My life, because of
the drugs, was a lie."

Sherrill is ashamed that he presided in court and punished drug addicts
while he struggled with his own addiction.

"I thought a lot about that and how it was wrong. But I had compassion for
the people who had problems with drugs and were addicted. I tried to
fashion my punishments to help them.

"At the time, I didn't believe I was addicted. I felt my drug use helped me
relate to the people who appeared before me. That was part of my
rationalization to continue using drugs. It was wrong. I know that now."

Sherrill's arrest stunned friends in the legal community.

"I was disappointed in Terry," said Charlotte defense lawyer and former
prosecutor Norman Butler, a fraternity brother of Sherrill. "He shouldn't
have let it happen."

Mecklenburg Senior Resident Superior Court Judge Shirley Fulton, the first
black woman to serve as a state judge in Charlotte, considered Sherrill a
mentor.

"We as judges are supposed to be examples," Fulton said. "We are supposed
to live our lives as we direct others to....Terry was not doing that. Here
was a judge doing things we were sentencing people to jail for."

Mecklenburg District Attorney Peter Gilchrist cut Sherrill a break. As a
first-time offender, Sherrill was allowed to avoid prosecution by admitting
wrongdoing, resigning his judgeship and turning in his law license.

Sherrill had to submit to urinalysis and get treatment. If he abided by the
conditions for a year, all charges would be dismissed.

But after testing positive for cocaine while working for Duke Power Co.,
Sherrill was indicted on the cocaine, marijuana and drug paraphernalia
charges. He pleaded guilty and was sentenced to a year in jail.

Sherrill spent two months behind bars in Mecklenburg.

At night, he was locked up in solitary. By day, he worked in the jail
canteen, selling inmates drinks, snacks and toiletries.

"That was a very humbling experience," he recalls.

At first, Sherrill worried about his safety. The inmates knew he had been a
judge. And he saw inmates whom he'd sentenced.

"I was afraid those first few nights in jail," he recalled. "I feared
somebody might want to hurt me."

When the jail door clanked shut that first time, Sherrill knew he had to
get his habit under control. "I knew then I had hit bottom. I told myself
this was it. I knew I had a lot of people behind me, supporting me and
praying for me. But I knew it was up to me to turn my life around."

From his jail cell, Sherrill had time to reflect.

His future had seemed so promising. He joined the Mecklenburg Public
Defender's office shortly after graduating from UNC's law school in 1980.

Three years later, then-Gov. Jim Hunt appointed Sherrill to the Mecklenburg
District Court bench. In 1984, Sherrill ran for the judgeship and won. His
election to the Superior Court bench followed two years later.

For a time after his arrest, Sherrill thought about leaving town.
"Sometimes I think it would have been easier to have left."

He knew he had jeopardized his marriage.

"I was afraid I might not be able to stop doing drugs. I was afraid I might
not be able to keep my family together. My wife could have moved out and
left me and no one would have blamed her. She could have abandoned the ship."

With her husband in jail, Gloria Sherrill started working as a teacher's
assistant to keep the family together and pay the bills.

From the Mecklenburg jail, Sherrill called prominent Charlotte lawyer Bill
Diehl. Diehl offered the former judge and disbarred lawyer a job as a
paralegal at his law firm.

There Sherrill helped write litigation documents. Diehl and his firm would
later help Sherrill get his law license back and would hire him as an
associate.

"It was the right thing to do," Diehl said. "He was no different than
anybody else with an addiction except he was a judge."

Sherrill got his law license back in 1993 and was welcomed back into
Charlotte's legal community. "It was like I never left -- except I didn't
have the black robe on."

Even so, there were uncomfortable times. "I sometimes felt embarrassed....
And I sensed some disapproval. People didn't know how to act or what to say
to me."

Sherrill's friends in the legal community applaud his recovery.

"For some people, this would have taken them over the edge," said Norman
Butler, the defense lawyer. "Not Terry. He dealt with it. He's back."

Today, Sherrill practices law with his nephew, Johneric Emehel. He still
goes to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings once or twice a week. He says he
hasn't had a drink of alcohol or drugs since Sept. 10, 1990 -- the first
day he was locked up in jail.

Sherrill heads the N.C. State Bar's PALS program, which helps lawyers
battling addictions. He talks at lawyer gatherings around the state about
his fight against addiction.

He's traveled to Albuquerque, N.M., to talk to the American Bar
Association's lawyers assistance program about addiction. And he's
testified before Mississippi's Supreme Court about disciplining lawyers
convicted of felonies.

Sherrill now wants to focus much of his law practice on helping people in
trouble with addictions. "That's now my ministry, so to speak," he said. "I
get the most satisfaction from my work when I'm helping people -- like I
was helped."

Charlotte lawyer Calvin Murphy, head of the State Bar committee that
disciplines lawyers, said Sherrill's talks about his addiction and recovery
are very effective.

"Terry isn't talking about what he's read or studied. He's lived the
experience of drug addiction and coming back from it," Murphy said. "Terry
has made a remarkable turnaround. That's testimony to his fortitude."

Sherrill hopes the story of his downfall and comeback will motivate others
with addictions.

"I'm hoping people will learn from what I went through. No one is perfect.
If you fall, get up and brush yourself off.

"You can start over."