ASSESSING THE TREATMENT ALTERNATIVE

Some say Willard does not go far enough in addressing the substance-abuse
problems of those inside the criminal justice system

WILLARD -- At 5:30 a.m., when most of this tiny hamlet slept, Lloyd Leak
jumped out of his top bunk and into the shower to get ready for another
round of physical training.

The routine is regimental for parolees at the state's only intensive
residential drug treatment program for criminals, located about 3 hours west
of Albany in the Finger Lakes.

Since the Sentencing Reform Act in 1995 created an alternative to state
prison for certain drug offenders, this rural area has been host to one of
the newest experiments in New York's evolving approach to its drug problem
and overflowing prisons.

Modeled on existing shock programs, Willard Drug Treatment Campus differs in
that it offers 325 hours of drug treatment and behavioral therapy.

"You won't see a TV or a radio,'' said Superintendent Thomas Eisenschmidt.
"Everything here has to do with treatment.''

That includes the books in the library, all of which have to do with some
aspect of recovery, from the 12 steps popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous to
basic coping strategies.

Neither Leak, who is from Troy, nor the 750 other men and women at Willard,
which used to operate as a psychiatric center, have time for leisure during
their 90-day stay. From 5:30 a.m. to lights-out at 9:30 p.m., they're in
meetings, doing jobs around the facility or attending academic classes.

Willard's main goal is to keep criminals with drug and alcohol problems from
returning to prison.

"Ninety days of teaching somebody what they should be doing is better than
giving them two years of fighting, cussing and nothing to go home to,'' said
Leak, who was sent to Willard for violating his parole on a 1997 drug
possession conviction.

When given the choice, the 20-year-old opted to serve his time at Willard
instead of prison. Upon his release in June, he will further be required to
attend a drug treatment program in his community as prescribed by his
Willard counselors.

Yet after a particularly long day of confronting his mistakes, eating his
meals in silence and being restricted from using the phone, Leak sometimes
wonders if he made the right choice.

"Sometimes you feel like your time is better off in prison,'' he said.

Proponents say the Willard alternative so far has saved the taxpayers about
$95 million in incarceration costs by cutting the chances that a parolee
will re-offend.

Others, however, say Willard doesn't go far enough to address the problem of
drug and alcohol abuse among those in the criminal justice system and stops
short of serving as an alternative to mandatory minimum sentences. Most of
the residents coming into the program are parole violators, not first-time
or repeat offenders.

"A true alternative program would divert people from prison,'' said Robert
Gangi, executive director of the Correctional Association of New York.

Although Gangi believes Willard's approach to drug treatment is sound, he
questioned the wisdom of placing such a center in rural central New York,
when many addiction experts say that community-based programs work best.
Some critics of the state's drug policy claim New York's first priority is
to provide corrections-related jobs upstate.

"We shouldn't be setting up programs where you send people of color from
urban communities to rural areas because those areas are (economically)
depressed,'' he said. "It's very important that people stay in contact with
their families, and this program precludes that opportunity.''

Yet Willard's Deputy Superintendent for Programs Mary Bogan said many
Willard parolees have lost their families or homes to their addiction. She
also noted that many well-off people leave their communities for treatment
at places such as the Betty Ford Center in California.

Perhaps, one of Willard's biggest challenges, however, is perception.

Despite evidence that treatment can reduce incarceration and criminal
activity, many people, including district attorneys, still view such
programs as being too soft.

"We as a public tend to view drug treatment as a reward or gift to the
drug-using criminals,'' said Jonathan Caulkins, a drug policy researcher for
Carnegie-Mellon University.

Saratoga County District Attorney James Murphy III also was skeptical until
he got a firsthand look at Willard last year.

"I thought it was going to be somewhat like a day camp,'' he said. Instead,
Murphy said he was impressed by the rigors of the program, from the physical
training to the treatment.

He's since referred two cases to Willard. "I think it's a tremendous
resource for district attorneys to utilize,'' he said.

Carl Begin, 23, of Lansingburgh believes Willard has worked for him.

He graduated May 3 from Willard after completing the program for the second
time. He was initially sent to Willard for violating his parole on a 1996
conviction for selling cocaine. He was referred back after he failed to
comply with his initial release plan, mandating his attendance at a
community treatment program in Troy.

Begin believes he is now ready to go home. "I've learned a lot about
myself,'' he said. "I have a problem, and I need to fix it.''