LA CROSSE DRUG COURT PUTS TREATMENT FIRST

Small Rewards, Sanctions For Failure Has Helped Many Drop Addictions

LA CROSSE - Dispensing jail sentences and some stern words are commonplace
for judges.

Judge John Perlich at a recent La Crosse County Drug Court session
dispensed candy.

Perlich acknowledges that La Crosse County's Drug Court isn't a commonplace
court. Officials said a blend of support for good work, small rewards -
like a package of peanut butter cups - and sanctions for failure has helped
many drop their drug addictions.

The county is now in the third year of its drug court program, which allows
drug offenders an opportunity to clear their name and avoid jail or prison
by graduating through a strict regiment of drug testing, treatment and
regular court visits. Winnebago County has a similar program in development.

While some counties cite start-up costs as factors against such programs,
Perlich said drug courts generally utilize resources already in place. The
court also uses them more effectively.

"We're already paying for treatment, but the difference with drug court is
that treatment is being used," Perlich said. "We don't have people dropping
out. Someone is going to get treatment if they're ordered to go there."

The drug court session begins before defendants make it to the courtroom.

A team including Perlich, drug court coordinator Sue Wiese, treatment
providers, prosecutors and probation and parole agents go through the
cases, discuss those who violated and try to reach the right course of
action to set them straight.

For some, it's a weekend or more in the county jail.

For others, privileges are taken away.

In the worst-case scenario of repeat violations, offenders are removed from
the program and go back before a judge for a traditional sentence.

"One of the people we had to expel just got two and a half years in
prison," Perlich said.

When court begins, it's not the structured, procedure-driven environment
found in most other types of cases.

It's supportive. It's conversational.

When defendants step up to the podium, Perlich asks how things are going.
Then he asks how drug screening went.

"I'm clean," many said. And each time, the gallery erupted in applause.
Defendants showed trust in Perlich, and they opened up and talked honestly.
Because the court operates under strict confidentiality, defendants cannot
be named.

"I thought I could stay sober, but I wouldn't be happy," one defendant
acknowledged. "But I am. I am happy."

The court isn't so pleasant for all defendants.

One defendant at a recent hearing failed a drug test, and surrendered
himself to sheriff's deputies with a look of understanding on his face when
Perlich ordered him to spend seven days in the county jail.

Another pleaded with Perlich to go against an expulsion recommendation and
give her one more chance.

"I'm scared of prison, but I'm also scared of life after prison," she said
through tears. "I'm going to lose everything that's important to me."

Perlich gave her the chance, but also a short leash. He said any more
infractions would result in the woman going back before another judge to
face what might be prison.

Perlich said the relationship between the judge and each defendant is a
vital part of the program.

He gets to know the offenders, their situations, their families and their
struggles.

One man proudly told the judge about getting his driver's license. He lost
it several years ago after a drunken driving incident and had never gotten
it back.

Perlich said he was proud and he called the man to the bench. He reached
behind him and gave the man some candy as a token reward.

The defendant returned to the gallery with the candy and a smile. Several
stopped him to take a look at the plastic card prominently displayed in top
flap of his wallet.

Perlich said the relationships built with defendants makes the court among
the most taxing duties a judge can handle. He jokingly said he would rather
preside over a tedious two-week medical malpractice trial than walk into
drug court on a Thursday afternoon.

"There's a bond that builds," Perlich said. "You become so involved in
these people's lives that when there's a failure, it hurts. You wonder what
you did wrong."