GETTING CLEAN MEANS BEATING THE ODDS

Overcoming Addiction Has Proven Difficult For Many People Sentenced
To Drug Court; Those Who Succeed Praise The Program.

MUNCIE -- If the Guinness Book contained a category for most
expensive single drug binge, Jeff Branham might very well own the
record.

By Branham's account, he smoked almost $20,000 worth of crack cocaine
in an 11-day period, a bender that left little time for sleep or
anything else but getting high.

What's worse, he financed the drugs by forging checks from his
83-year-old father's savings account, drawing the attention of
authorities who charged him with 66 felony crimes.

"Basically I was going to prison," Branham said. "I faced that
reality."

Branham didn't go to prison, though.

Delaware Circuit Court Judge Robert Barnet Jr. sentenced Branham to
three years in prison and three years probation. But to Branham's
surprise, the judge suspended the prison part of Branham's sentence
to allow him to enter Delaware County's drug court program.

More than four years after his arrest, Branham is sober, gainfully
employed in the tree-service industry, a believer in God, and mending
his relationship with his father.

"I can tell in his eyes every once in a while that it still hurts
him," Branham said.

Drug courts are a form of probation that seeks rehabilitation through
meetings with a supervisor, substance abuse therapy, frequent drug
screenings and education. The courts offers the kind of support that
is often unavailable to addicts behind prison walls.

Only non-violent offenders are eligible for drug court.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of the nation's first drug
court, which was founded in Miami-Dade County, Florida, in response
to a drug epidemic at that time. Since then the concept has expanded
with 2,301 drug courts serving addicts in all 50 states, according
to Chris Deutsch, associate director of communications for the
National Association of Drug Court Professionals.

Delaware County has had a drug court since 2005.

While Branham's narrative exemplifies the possibilities of Delaware
County's drug court, his story is also atypical.

Branham beat the odds when he graduated from drug court a year
ago.

According to figures provided by Delaware County Community
Corrections, almost three-quarters of drug court users fail out of
the program and end up in prison as a result.

DCCC director June Kramer said the failure rate reflects the
seriousness of drug addiction, and is not necessarily an indicator
that the program is performing poorly.

"What I always point to is we are taking more serious offenders who
have probably had treatment before and failed," she said. "Many of
them are abusers of multiple substances. It's not necessarily just
one."

In neighboring Madison County, the drug court success rate is about
40 percent.

But Madison County's program lasts 18 months, whereas completion of
drug court in Delaware County takes three years.

According to Ball State University criminologist Jerome McKean,
Delaware County's drug court is more rigorous than most.

"My general impression is very positive," he said.

Jessica Woolums-Smith also has a positive general impression of drug
court, even as it appears she is being kicked out of the program.

"They try to help you as much as they can," she said recently from
inside a jail holding cell. "Other than going to prison and wasting
your life away."

Just six months away from graduating drug court, Woolums-Smith got
arrested in September on charges that she and two other accomplices
robbed a drug dealer in Muncie.

Woolums-Smith, a 24-year-old mother of three, admits to driving a
friend to a drug deal in return for gas money, but said she did not
rob anyone.

Recently she received notification from Delaware County Community
Corrections that they wanted to revoke her from drug court. If Judge
John Feick agrees, it would immediately send her to prison for two
years on an old drug possession conviction.

"When I got those papers my heart was broke, it was worse than
anything," she said.

Despite the difficulties some face completing drug courts, McKean
said there is strong evidence that they are effective. A 2005 survey
by the White House Government Accountability Office determined that
drug court participants were less likely than other criminals to be
rearrested or reconvicted.

"They combine accountability and stringent supervision with an
opportunity for rehabilitation," McKean said.

And Kramer argues they are still a good investment, given the
alternative is sending everyone to prison.

According to Kramer, drug courts cost taxpayers about $8.29 a day per
person, whereas prison costs taxpayers $52 a day per person.

Delaware County's drug court users report to case managers Jayne
Meranda and Tracy Blankenship, who essentially act as counselors,
trying to keep everyone on the straight and narrow.

Early on, the offenders meet with their case manager's daily and
Judge John Feick weekly, developing a much more intimate relationship
with the judicial system.

Meranda and Blankenship learn the details of the offenders' personal
lives to try to spot any situations that might lead them back to drug
abuse -- problems with boyfriends, problems with bosses, peer pressure.

"We can't help you deal with issues if you don't let us know what's
going on," Meranda said.

Sue Eller, who is 18 months into the program, agreed.

"I don't care what it is, you can tell them anything," Eller said.
"And they don't look down on you for what you've done."

Branham and Meranda bonded over a mutual appreciation for heavy metal
music and the radio station 98.9 "The Bear" out of Fort Wayne.

"Not too many people like my radio station and like my music," he
said.

On a recent Friday, Branham posed for photographs with his father,
Murkel, in Murkel Branham's tidy southside home.

The fact that father and son agreed to be in the same frame together
after all they've gone through says something about both men.

Murkel Branham told The Star Press his son had changed.

"He's doing pretty well," he said.

Murkel Branham recently gave his son an old big screen TV that
belonged to him. At nights and on weekends, Jeff mostly stays at
home, watching basketball and football.

The days of raising hell, snorting coke and drinking whiskey are
over, he said.

"I really enjoy being sober."