PROP 36 OFFENDERS SUFFER SEVERE ADDICTION

Unforeseen trend for Prop. 36: A flood of hard-core addicts needing
treatment is likely to push costs higher than expected.

Many of the drug offenders being sent to treatment instead of prison
under a new state law suffer from severe addictions and need more
therapy than expected, a trend that could put a strain on budgets for
drug programs and probation. Less than three months after Proposition
36 went into effect July 1, no statewide statistics have yet been
compiled. But officials have been struck by the preponderance of
hard-core addicts, as opposed to casual users who happened to run
afoul of the law.

"We thought we would get a lot more low-level substance abuse cases,"
said Bill Demers, president of a statewide association of county drug
program administrators. "We're getting more on the higher end. I
think what it says is that there are a lot of people with drug and
alcohol problems out there." Approved by 61 percent of California
voters last November, Proposition 36 allows nonviolent drug
offenders to get treatment instead of prison. It allocated $120
million a year to be divided among the 58 counties.

Sacramento County's Proposition 36 plan assumed that seven of 10
offenders would need the lowest level of outpatient treatment,
consisting of three months of therapy and as much as six months of
follow-up, said Toni Moore, the county's alcohol and drug
administrator.

Instead, only a third have been assigned to this group, Moore said,
while two-thirds require a more extensive six months of treatment and
up to six months of after-care. The county uses standardized tests
of addiction severity.

If the trend continues, it will translate into higher costs.
Sacramento County estimates that the more intensive treatment costs
$1,300 more per person: $1,800, compared to $500. The county expects
a few thousand Proposition 36 offenders per year. The offenders
also have longer and more serious criminal histories than expected,
requiring more face-to-face meetings with probation officers and more
drug testing.

Sacramento's plan had anticipated only 10 percent of Proposition 36
offenders would need the highest level of supervision. In fact, Moore
said, it's more than half. Sacramento's figures, some of the first in
the state, also paint an overall picture of Proposition 36
offenders. Almost a third suffer mental illnesses. Two-thirds are not
working, and a third require vocational training.

"You're talking about a needy group," Moore said. One explanation for
the numbers could be that hard-core drug offenders who show up in
court over and over are the first ones being nabbed, said Whitney
Taylor, Proposition 36 director of the Lindesmith Center, one of the
main backers of the initiative. Once those repeat offenders are off
the streets, indexes like severity of addiction could drop.

Still, early indications suggest that the initiative is drawing from
a large population of serious addicts who before now have not had
access to treatment.

"Some of these people are telling me they're getting themselves
arrested on a needle violation so they can get treatment," said John
McCarthy, director of the Bi-Valley Medical Clinic, which provides
methadone treatment to Proposition 36 clients. McCarthy is also a
member of the county's Proposition 36 implementation committee.

Scott Jaekel, one of more than 400 people in Sacramento sentenced
under the new law, is typical of the trend. Picked up on a charge of
methamphetamine possession, Jaekel, 44, said he started using
drugs at age 13.

Because of two felony convictions in the 1970s, Jaekel's arrest made
him eligible for a sentence of 25 years to life under California's
"three strikes" law.

But in July, Jaekel was offered a suspended sentence and treatment
under Proposition 36. If he fails at treatment, the sentence could be
reimposed.

"I got lucky when this law came into effect," he said. Assigned to
outpatient treatment -- which includes group and individual
counseling -- Jaekel felt that he was in danger of slipping into his
old routine.

"I thought, 'I can't do this. We're talking about the rest of my
life,' " he said.

So Jaekel was assigned to a more intense residential treatment
program, The Effort Inc.'s A-House in Sacramento. "I'm doing real
good," he said. "I can see my thought patterns change."

Gary Lewis, 48, is in the same program and also typifies the trend.
Picked up on a parole violation for possessing heroin, Lewis received
treatment instead of a three-year prison term. Lewis did four stints
in prison before he was paroled in 1988, and says he never had an
incentive to tackle his problem "because they never had no drug
programs."

With Proposition 36, he said, "they're making it to where it's worth
your while to do something. There is a way out, as long as you do
good by this deal."

Lewis and Jaekel both won the praise last week of Superior Court
Judge Jane Ure, who oversees Proposition 36 offenders. She wished
them good luck.

"I haven't heard many judges say that," Lewis said. But not all were
doing as well. Some had given "dirty" drug tests, others had failed
to show up for appointments. Still others wanted out of treatment,
preferring a few more weeks in jail to the rigors of therapy.

"They may not realize it's going to take a lot of participation,"
said Eluid Romero, the county's supervising public defender. A little
more than half of the offenders, who must report to court at least
every four weeks, are succeeding, Romero said. But a third have had
violations -- dirty tests or missed appointments -- and the rest fail
to show up for court. These people tend to be from the two extremes,
Romero said -- those facing long prison sentences or short jail terms.

Ure chides the offenders with spotty records. "We have phones," she
told one defendant who claimed to have missed an appointment because
of a car accident. "Your attorney has phones. The Effort has phones."

To another, who had repeatedly missed his first appointment with
probation officers, Ure said, "I feel stupid telling you once again
to get to probation between 8 and 10. It's not funny." But so far,
Ure has used her power to remove people from treatment sparingly.
Only four or five have been kicked out of Proposition 36 programs,
Romero said.