Foothold On Path To A New Life

WORK-RELEASE PROGRAM A BRIDGE TO FREEDOM

Waffle House waitress Kathy Anderson won't be able to see her two sets of
twins on Christmas. The Lawrenceville mother lost her house and custody of
her 9-year-old daughters and 15-year-old sons.

Her family and her home weren't as important as getting high on crack
cocaine, she said.

"I was hooked on drugs real bad," said Anderson, 40, while sitting on a
cell bunk applying mascara before the start of her waitress shift. "Crack
ruled my life."

But an arrest in May led to a second chance she said she doesn't plan on
squandering.

Anderson is one of 24 women and about 200 men housed at the Gwinnett
Diversion Center in Lawrenceville. The county-funded program lets
nonviolent offenders work during the day at their regular jobs and return
to the Hi Hope Road center for lockup at night.

Anderson said her job is about the only thing she hasn't lost, and she's
committed to keeping it.

The program, one of just a handful in the metro area, serves as a model for
officials in other counties --- including Fulton, Clarke and Chatham ---
who have visited the center amid discussions of starting their own
diversion centers, Warden Jim Kraus said.

There are 16 state-run diversion centers in Georgia, but none in Gwinnett.
Gwinnett opened its own center in 1993 to give judges a sentencing option
and help ease jail crowding.

"They [Gwinnett] deserve credit for being innovative at the local level,"
said Scott Stallings, spokesman for the state Department of Corrections.

At diversion centers, the focus is more on rehabilitation than on
punishment, Kraus said.

Anderson said she was arrested on a forgery charge in May after using
checks she stole to fund her drug habit. She was forced to give up cocaine
on the spot while at the Gwinnett Detention Center and is now finishing an
eight-month stay at the diversion center.

"It's a little bit of freedom and a little bit of confinement," she said.

Volunteers with Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous make regular
visits, and detainees, called "residents," are allowed to leave for
scheduled doctor's visits and therapy sessions.

Gwinnett agreed to house DeKalb County offender Daniel Lackey, 51, who fell
behind in child support payments, because DeKalb has no similar program.
Lackey had spent three months in jail there, during which he fell further
behind. "For me it's a chance to bounce back . . . a gift," Lackey said.
"Here, there's more to motivate you, people encourage you." Operating costs
for the center run about $1.3 million annually, but are offset by fees paid
by detainees, Kraus said. The program is housed in the old county jail, but
is expected to move to a new facility on nearby Swanson Road in March,
Kraus said.

For now, detainees sleep side-by-side on bunks or in cells with old metal
bars. The new facility will have more of a dormitory-style design and more
than 50 new beds, he said. A handful of offenders are on a waiting list to
enter the program, Kraus said.