A MISSION TO HEAL THOSE IN PAIN

The Rev. Peter Young has crusaded to reform the legal system's treatment of
addictions for four decades

The Rev. Peter Young hit a nerve on a recent Friday at his downtown clinic,
where more than two dozen recovering addicts and alcoholics, many just out
of prison, gathered for another shot of encouragement.

Young, nationally known as one of the pioneers in the treatment movement,
has crusaded in New York over the past four decades to reform the legal and
medical policies surrounding alcohol and drugs. He's credited with
dismantling the law that put drunks behind bars.

That was in 1976. Today, Young's battle hasn't changed much. While
alcoholism is more often viewed as an illness, there are still many skeptics
who view addictions as moral and behavioral lapses, not medical problems.

"I've learned this morning about a billboard in Schenectady," said Young.
"Do you know what it says? 'Alcohol and drug treatment does not work.'"

The ad, placed on an old theater marquee downtown, was sponsored by Hagaman
Guest House, a drug and alcohol recovery program based in Montgomery County.
Leaders there reject the idea that alcohol and drug addiction is a disease
and promote spiritualism as the key to recovery.

Young has always believed otherwise. He still makes time to lead support
group meetings, while heading the $10 million organization he founded, known
collectively as Peter Young Housing, Industry and Treatment program.

As a Roman Catholic priest, Young believes that spirituality plays a role in
recovery. But he doesn't believe in proselytizing the more than 1,000
recovering addicts he shelters or 2,000 others in treatment programs, which
include 20 locations across the state, from New York City to Utica and beyond.

Young uses the analogy of a three-legged stool to describe his approach:
treatment, housing and employment. "The stool can't stand without all three
legs," he said.

Although he estimates that his program has helped thousands of young men and
women stay clean and sober, Young is pragmatic about a political climate
that continues to view incarceration as the frontline approach to curbing
drug abuse.

According to a recent report by the National Council on Addiction and
Substance Abuse, 80 percent of the adults in U.S. prisons are locked up
because of criminal activity linked to drugs and alcohol. Drugs also are
responsible for the tripling of America's prison population from 500,000 in
1980 to 1.7 million in 1996.

"I'm on the losing side," Young said in the classroom of the brick building
he bought and renovated in 1986 to house some of his programs in one of
Albany's poorer neighborhoods.

At this meeting, Young took encouragement from the men in his group, mostly
black and brown, who were quick to disagree with the perception that addicts
don't want to or can't change.

"Hi, my name is Jessie and I'm an addict," said one man, in the usual
greeting of a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. "I think society has a
disoriented picture of who we are."

Rasaan Kellam of Harlem raised his hand as a case in point.

Kellam, 46, was assigned to Young's program as an alternative sentence to
keep him out of prison on a conviction for selling crack cocaine.

After attending a residential treatment program in New York City, Kellam is
now attending group meetings, vocational classes, and lives in a nearby
residence under the supervision of Young's staff.

Upon his release, probably in October, he'll get help finding a job. "When I
get out, I'll have a foundation, I'll have a foothold," he said.

Others already in prison apply to Young's program as a condition of their
release, with the state and county sharing in the daily expense: $148 for
inpatient care, $57.60 for outpatient care and $23.50 for shelter services.

Young is realistic. He's familiar with the statistics from the Rand
Corporation showing that most addicts who get out of prison will be
rearrested and incarcerated again.

Yet he prefers to talk about the results when inmates get help. According to
Rand, those who receive treatment while behind bars can cut in half their
odds of recidivism. Those who follow up with additional treatment upon their
release have an 80 percent chance of staying out of prison.

"Instead of talking about failure," he said, "let's talk about hope."