COURT OFFERS NEW HOPE TO DRUG ADDICTS

Instead Of Jailing People For Drug Use, County Program Gives Them Tools To
Kick Habits

EVERETT - The celebration seemed out of place for Snohomish County Superior
Court.

In a room where he has handed out stiff punishment to numerous offenders,
including one death penalty, Judge Richard Thorpe last week stepped down
from his bench to shake a defendant's hand.

The black-robed judge had congratulations, a broad smile and a certificate
marking the young man's completion of an intensive drug-treatment program.

As the courtroom filled with applause, the man received hugs and high-fives
from a dozen or so other defendants, who, like him, are trying to beat drug
addiction while also avoiding a felony conviction.

All are volunteer participants in Snohomish County's new drug treatment
court, a program that tries to use the legal muscle of the criminal justice
system to free defendants from dependence on cocaine, heroin,
methamphetamine and other addictive illegal drugs.

The program is not about coddling criminals, but instead a recognition that
conviction and punishment alone aren't making a dent in the drug problem,
Thorpe said.

"It is one thing to wage a war on drugs with respect to dealers," Thorpe
said, but jailing drug users "just hasn't been working."

Drug cases still constitute about a quarter of the county's steadily
growing felony caseload and much of the burglary, robbery and shoplifting
can be traced to drug users trying to pay for their habits, Thorpe said.

Thorpe and the rest of the Superior Court judges, working with others in
county government, late last year quietly launched the drug court, modeling
it on successful programs that have been in operation in Florida, Oregon
and elsewhere since the late 1980s.

Drug courts aim to get the attention of nonviolent, drug-abusing offenders,
by mixing intensive judicial supervision, mandatory drug testing, swift
sanctions for noncompliance and intensive drug treatment.

Unlike a traditional adversarial legal proceeding, defendants volunteer to
have their cases handled in drug court. They encounter judges, prosecutors,
defense attorneys and probation officers working in concert with drug
treatment experts to push defendants into drug-free, crime-free lifestyles.

A National Institute of Justice study found that the first drug court in
Miami, Fla., showed a 33 percent reduction in rearrest for drug court
graduates compared with other similar offenders.

Thorpe said he's seen studies where as few as 10 percent of drug court
graduates go on to re-offend, a sharp contrast to the roughly 50 percent
arrest level for people who don't get treatment and wind up back behind bars.

Defendants who participate in the county's drug court may have no more than
two felony convictions, none of them violent offenses. The charge they face
doesn't necessarily have to be a drug crime, but they must have a drug
problem severe enough that they will benefit from the type of treatment
offered, Thorpe said.

All of the volunteer participants must sign a contract that spells out how
they must conduct themselves and the sanctions they can face, including
jail time, if they fail. The contracts specify that the program will last a
year or more and are detailed enough that they list the way defendants must
dress for court appearances, which at the start of the program are
scheduled weekly.

"Shorts, cut-offs, midriff tops, bare feet and flip flops are not
acceptable clothing," the contracts read. "No T-shirts or sweatshirt with
drug or alcohol slogans."

Volunteers can opt out of the program at any time and be sentenced to the
standard punishment for their offense, Thorpe said. But most of the people
who are screened as drug court candidates are looking for a way out.

"At the beginning, I stress to them that this will be hard work, one of the
hardest things they will ever do," the judge said. They will have to
develop a new life, including new friends, new habits, new ways of viewing
the world.

"They just kind of look at me like a deer caught in the headlights," Thorpe
said.

Drug court hearings seem a cross between a typical court calendar and a
gathering of 12-step program adherents. Indeed, participation in sobriety
support groups is mandated by the court.

Last week's hearing was preceded by public defender Caroline Mann, a
seasoned defense attorney, checking in with her clients before the judge
took the bench.

"Hi, how's everybody doing?" Mann asked, flashing a warm smile.

"We'll tell you later!" said one defendant, a woman who nervously chewed
gum and had openly worried that the judge may order her into jail for not
attending AA meetings.

When Thorpe took the bench he called the defendants forward and grilled
them about their progress and compliance with court-ordered treatment.
Unlike a typical felony court hearing, all of the defendants faced the
judge alone, without a defense attorney by their side.

There were no serious violations last week, but some participants reported
back to the judge what it was like to spend the weekend in jail for having
failed drug screening tests the week before.

Thorpe said earlier that missteps are to be expected because relapse is
part of the process people go through in learning to successfully battle
addiction. What the drug court guarantees is swift, certain and escalating
punishment for those who need extra incentive, he said.

Virtually all of the people now in the drug court program are addicted to
methamphetamine. The drug, cooked up in clandestine labs from a mix of
volatile and hazardous chemicals, is snorted, smoked or injected.

People can graduate from drug court after they have successfully completed
their treatment for at least a year and have tested drug free for a minimum
of six months. They also must be employed, attending a sobriety support
group and have paid all court costs.

If they're successful, the charge that landed them in trouble is dismissed.

The county was able to secure federal grants to cover the cost of preparing
to launch a drug court, but it is covering the cost of the program on its
own. There is money in county coffers to handle cases for about 50
defendants in the next year, Thorpe said.

He hopes grants and other sources of money will be found to make the drug
court a permanent fixture on the local crime front.

Public defender Mann also is an enthusiastic supporter of drug court.

"I think that the main thing we've learned is that locking up an addict
just keeps them away from their drugs during the period of incarceration,"
she said.

The drug court concept substitutes the court's authority for the addict's
weakness for drugs, a situation that changes as the defendant begins to
conquer addiction and takes more control of his life, Mann said.

"Hopefully this will knock down recidivism and really make a change," she
added.

All defendants accepted into the drug court program must come with approval
from county prosecutors.

Deputy prosecutor Helene Blume is one supporter of the program. She was
spearheading the program at the prosecutor's office up until a recent
reassignment as the head deputy prosecutor in the district court unit.

Over the years Blume has handled virtually all types of prosecutions, from
misdemeanors to capital murder. Drugs are a common denominator in virtually
every type of criminal misconduct, from theft to child abuse, she said.

If the drug court works as it should, "hopefully it will ultimately mean a
declining crime rate," she said.