SAN JOSE JUDGE RUNS UNIQUE COURTS FOR DRUG-ADDICTED AND MENTALLY ILL

In Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Stephen Manley's chaotic
courtroom, the bulletin board tells the story.

The thank-you notes. The crayon drawings from grateful children. The
Polaroids of former defendants who've regained the ability to smile.

They are all telltale signs seldom found elsewhere in the local
criminal justice system, where drama and sorrow ordinarily drown out
the kind of hope Manley sells inside his courtroom every day. Manley
believes in reclamation projects, and he sees hundreds of them each
year as he runs one of the most unique courtrooms in California for
defendants facing drug addiction and mental illness.

Those defendants, when they succeed in Manley's program, never forget
the judge. And his bulletin board illustrates why he's become one of
the state's leading judicial experts on rehabilitating convicts
instead of cycling them through the prison system.

"I never find it depressing," said the 67-year-old judge during a
recent interview in his chambers. "Every day I see something I haven't
seen before, I see people do something they didn't think they could
do."

Manley, his signature black patch over his permanently injured left
eye, has become a local institution. More than a decade ago, he
established groundbreaking specialty courts to serve drug and
alcohol-addicted inmates, as well as for those also suffering from
mental illness. He has secured millions of dollars in state and
federal money to spread the programs across California, earning him a
special award this fall from Chief Justice Ronald George. He's about
to unveil another special court for veterans, anticipating an influx
of defendants suffering unique problems after serving in Iraq and
Afghanistan.

He has crisscrossed the state and country, serving as an expert on how
to treat defendants stuck in the system because of mental illness and
drug abuse. He "graduates" hundreds of defendants each year who
succeed in getting their lives in order through drug and mental health
treatment, allowing them to avoid more prison time if they meet his
rigorous test for success. For addicts facing criminal charges, Manley
offers a tough choice - stick with treatment and steer clear of
trouble or go back to jail.

"The thing about these courts is Judge Manley having such a huge
heart," said Nona Klippen Hughes, an assistant public defender who
supervises lawyers in Manley's court. "It's a rare occasion when you
have to worry that your client is not going to get the best thing possible."

On a typical day in Manley's courtroom, the atmosphere is different
from any other corner of the justice system. Ordinary courtroom
formalities are nowhere to be found. Defendants chat directly with the
judge, who pores over their files with a frequent pause to tell them,
"You are doing great!" Each case eventually shifts to a therapy session.

"Alex," appearing on the judge's mental health calendar, is getting
praise for his treatment program, assuring Manley he's taking his
medication. When he tells the judge he's playing piano, Manley nearly
erupts: "I didn't know you play the piano!"

As the judge is ready to move to the next case, he points to the
ever-present bowl of candy on the defense table. "Have some candy," he
tells Alex. And then the crucial moment for every defendant - everyone
in the courtroom, from defendants in county jail garb to sheriffs
deputies, applauds, the punctuation mark on any case headed toward
success.

"I prosecuted serious offenders most of my career," said Deputy
District Attorney George Chadwick, who sits in the witness box in
Manley's court, serving as the judge's prosecutorial ear on whether
defendants are keeping out of trouble. "I'm very surprised how much
I've learned about how effective this program is."

Manley admits he was a "traditional judge" before he launched a drug
court in the mid-1990s. An appointee of former Gov. Jerry Brown, he
started his career with the usual diet of criminal cases, from routine
arraignments to felony trials. But after starting to see the same
faces in his court, or in some instances their children, he decided he
wanted to get in the business of "changing outcomes."

He is not, he insists, soft on crime and, in fact, believes jail time
is needed to get defendants to buy into treatment to get clean and
sober. He initially opposed Proposition 36, which mandates treatment
instead of jail for nonviolent first-time drug offenders.

"The idea this is some sort of soft on crime program is nonsense,"
Manley said. "It's harder to do this than go to jail or prison."

With his courts now herding 1,600 defendants through his programs each
year, the judge calls the current budget crunch "an opportunity to be
creative." He sticks to his own mantra, the one he preaches to the
dozens of defendants who crowd into his court Thursday afternoons and
Friday mornings.

In simple letters, on the courtroom door, a sign reads. "One day at a
time."