DRUG COURT OFFERS FIRST GRADUATES SECOND CHANCE

Two drug convictions didn't faze him. He still smoked pot.

The orange hair stayed, the studded dog collar wrapped around his neck
stayed. Cops locked Zachary "Zack" Hefner up for two 48-hour stints and
more. He went to juvenile boot camps, he failed two drug tests. He still
smoked pot.

"Stoned," Zack said. "I got stoned."

His chances gone, then 14-year-old Zack Hefner had a choice with one day
left in his free life: Spend the next six-plus years in jail or come clean.

Zack took the chance few South Carolina kids have -- juvenile drug
treatment court. Thursday night at drug court graduation with his beaming
father Wayne Lowery by his side, Zack jumped off the deep end into life
instead of jail. But the road hasn't just been bumpy; it was a screaming
avalanche that buried Zack.

"I did all this to myself," Zack said. "Nobody made me do it."

The first drug arrest came in 2002. He was a sixth-grader.

Zack took the antidepressant medication he'd been on to treat Attention
Deficit Hyperactive Disorder since the fourth grade -- usually parceled out
to him one pill at a time at home -- cut the 60 pills into quarters, and
took them to school. Before the bell rang in the afternoon he was in jail.

"I was so mad I asked them at jail if he could stay," Lowery said. "That
was the old me. The old father."

Prosecutors in Family Court offered a deal that gave Zack probation -- not
uncommon, drug court program coordinator Phoebee Sturgis said.

Zack still smoked dope. He failed out of a substance abuse treatment
program after testing positive.

"I went to counseling stoned plenty of times," Zack said.

"He was a B honor roll student," Lowery said. "Even with everything going
on I didn't see it."

Zack said he would do errands and cut grass for neighbors. Some of the
neighbors would give him marijuana.

"I was good to them, and they was good to me," Zack said.

"That's how they pay their errand boys," Sturgis said of drug people. "Some
they pay with money and some they pay with drugs."

A week before his six-month probation was up, Zack got busted with a $25
bag of marijuana.

The second arrest was flagged by the fledgling drug court staff as a
potential case. After meetings with Lowery and prosecutors, Family Court
Judge Henry Woods gave Zack a second chance by allowing him to join the
drug court program. Zack pleaded guilty, went on probation again and agreed
to all the drug tests and other conditions.

He still smoked dope. He failed the drug tests, twice in the first month.
He screamed at Sturgis and another drug court worker. He screamed at a
teacher in alternative school, the only place that would take him by now
after two arrests. His hair was orange or blue. Black makeup covered parts
of his face.

"I thought it was over," Sturgis said. "Bad attitude? He's the poster boy."

A day before a court hearing that would have sent him to jail, Zack asked
to be sent away to a state mental health center for juveniles. "I was on
the road to nowhere," Zack said.

"The reality is this," said Sturgis, the tough-love mother and sister and
mean aunt all in one, a former probation officer who dries the tears and
barks the orders but doesn't give extra chances. "If York County didn't
have a drug court, Zack would be in jail."

Nine days later, his antidepressant medication changed, Zack came home to
live with his father for good. The new medication made a big difference,
Lowery said, but Sturgis said Zack changed his own life. Zack and his
father went to group sessions and family sessions. Zack went to his own
counseling -- not stoned on pot anymore -- and finished all the
requirements, including the drug tests.

York's new court is one of only a few in the state. A federal grant pays
$337,000 over three years, with a 25 percent match from the county.
Sixteenth Circuit Solicitor Tommy Pope acknowledged at Thursday's
graduation that some may say this alternative to prosecution is jelly-kneed
kowtowing to bad kids when prosecution money is so tight.

One state prosecutor told Pope drug court was "Touchy-feely stuff."

"We do it because we can," Pope told the two graduates and their families.
"If you win, we win."

Zack isn't an angel. He knows he's just starting. "I want to finish
school," he said. "After that I don't know."

His father vowed to keep plugging. "We've got a lot of work left to do,"
Lowery said. "I'm a better father now. It's not enough to love your kid.
You have to learn how to listen."

Drug court graduation means no more probation and no more drug tests, but
it doesn't mean Zack Hefner is in the clear.

He's still in alternative school. But at 15, he's not stoned or in jail.

Zack addressed the graduation Thursday night after he signed an oath of
sobriety. Drug court staffers fought back tears. His father and little
sisters sat in the front row. "I hope the program works for others as it
did for me," Zack said.

Everyone in the room applauded.

Zack Hefner started life again.