DRUG COURT REHABS LIVES

The turning point for Ed Volovitch almost came too late. The North
Scranton native opted to enroll in Lackawanna County's drug court,
an intensive program launched in 2000, to avoid a prison sentence in 2003.

His parents had turned him in after he tried to break into a safe to
get money to buy heroin. No one would put up the $500 for bail. He
was desperate.

The turning point for Ed Volovitch almost came too late. The North
Scranton native opted to enroll in Lackawanna County's drug court,
an intensive program launched in 2000, to avoid a prison sentence in 2003.

His parents had turned him in after he tried to break into a safe to
get money to buy heroin. No one would put up the $500 for bail. He
was desperate.

"It got so bad that I tried to hang myself in my cell," Mr.
Volovitch said. "The only thing I was thinking was, if I had a bag
of dope, I wouldn't be hanging here."

Even the unsuccessful suicide attempt wasn't a big enough scare for
him to stop using, nor was the prospect of starting the Treatment
Court program. For months, he was using heroin and prescription
painkillers and meeting with drug court staff for counseling and drug tests.

Each time he tested positive, he went back to jail for a few days.
He'd get out and start using again, he said.

"I'd ... tell them what they wanted to hear," Mr. Volovitch said. "I
didn't take it seriously. I'd miss appointments. I'd go back to jail."

It was during one of those brief jail stays that Mr. Volovitch
finally had what recovering addicts call a moment of clarity. Just
before Thanksgiving 2004, he was in Lackawanna County Prison and
heard that his cousin had died after overdosing on Xanax and heroin.

"For me, that really hit home," he said, his voice growing soft. "I
used to roll around with him when we were both in diapers."

Mr. Volovitch was released from jail on a Thursday and walked to
court for his weekly check-in with Lackawanna County Judge Michael Barrasse.

"I told him I needed help, that I couldn't keep doing this," he
said. "And he said, 'It's about time.' "

About a year later, Mr. Volovitch "graduated" from the drug court
program. The 26-year-old is now working full-time and studying
education at Marywood University. He credits the county's Treatment
Court program for every success he's had.

"It was scary at first, because I'd never been honest with anyone in
years," Mr. Volovitch said about the program. "Where I am today, I
owe to the people at drug court and the people around me."

'Amazing accomplishment'

When the county's drug court program began, it was one of three in
the state. It has since grown to include a DUI court and is one of
2,016 such treatment courts in the nation, said C. Wes Huddleston
III, executive director of the National Association of Drug Court
Professionals.

Luzerne County began its drug court in 2006, and Wyoming County
recently received state funding to start one. Since its inception,
Lackawanna County Treatment Court has graduated more than 150
people. About 15 percent of graduates re-offend, slightly better
than the 17 percent recidivism rate for drug courts nationally.

"I think it's an amazing accomplishment," Mr. Huddleston said of the
national recidivism rate. "Something like two-thirds of people in
prison for drugs re-offend."

When the county first launched drug court, Judge Barrasse said some
were skeptical.

"It was a novel idea. People thought we'd be sitting around, holding
hands, singing 'Kumbaya,'" the judge said. "In reality, it's much
more difficult than prison."

Just getting in requires several steps: Anyone who wants to apply
must be approved by the district attorney's office and then the drug
court board, which usually includes an assessment by the county's
Drug and Alcohol Commission, as well as a review by the Treatment
Court staff and the Community Intervention Center.

Although several people at the district attorney's office were leery
of the program at first, District Attorney Andy Jarbola said he is
now convinced that the program works.

Before drug court began, prosecutors and judges would see the same
offenders "time and time and time again," Mr. Jarbola said.

"I've been here so long, I'm seeing the kids of frequent drug
offenders," he added. "These days, we're not seeing the same people
back over and over."

After being accepted into the program, the defendants start the
first of four phases, which are tailored to meet each defendant's
needs and address their specific problems. The program usually
includes counseling and Alcoholic Anonymous meetings, and defendants
are tested randomly for drug and alcohol use and must appear
in front of a judge each week to check in. They're also required to
maintain steady employment or enroll in college.

Defendants are usually on the program for a year to 18 months,
graduating after they meet all the requirements set by the judges
and Treatment Court staff and maintain sobriety for six months prior
to leaving the program.

Any slip-up -- from not attending the required meetings to testing
positive for drugs or alcohol -- usually means a prison stay. Enough
slip-ups, a defendant can be dropped from the program and go back
into the court system for a guilty plea or trial and a prison
sentence. Since the beginning, 109 people have been booted from the
program, according to court records.

"We'll have some people say, 'Hey, drug court is too hard. Just send
me to jail,'" said probation officer Gene Eiden. "There's a lot of
time and effort expected from people in Treatment Court."

'Want to change'

Many people who start the program are just like Mr. Volovitch, drug
court staffers said. Many addicts deny their addiction and aren't
ready to change.

"They think, 'I can control it,' " said Judy Gillette, a nurse
clinician at the county's Treatment Court. "But they can't. It takes
some people years to realize they have a problem."

That's why drug court is so intensive -- catching backslides before
they grow into bigger issues is important to the defendant's
success. Not everyone will succeed at drug court, despite the hoops
they must jump through to get in.

"People have to want to change," Mr. Eiden said. "We take it on a
case-by-case basis, to find out how committed they are. You can tell
early on."

There's always the possibility that someone who graduated from
Treatment Court will go on to mess up spectacularly, though.

"There's a real fear there that someone who completed DUI court will
go out and kill someone" in a drunken driving accident, Judge
Barrasse said. "I worry that there will be a big drug bust and one
of the people arrested had been through drug court."

So far, that hasn't happened, in part because the intense program
weeds out people who aren't committed to change.

Though Treatment Court officials realize slip-ups and backslides
will happen -- especially with people who are fighting longtime
addictions -- their patience only stretches so far. The threat of
hard time, the judge said, coupled with the desire to change is
often enough to keep someone on the right path.

Treatment Court works where prison often fails because of the time
and effort of drug court staff, court officials and community
groups, Judge Barrasse and Mr. Eiden say. Mixing counseling and AA
meetings, which give addicts the tools they need to cope with
getting and staying sober, with frequent check-ins and drug tests,
there are benchmarks by which defendants can be measured.

"Everyone is assisting the client," Mr. Eiden explains. "All the
agencies involved are taking time out of their day to come to court,
for instance, to report on these people."

Judge Barrasse says he sees the philosophy of Treatment Court
spreading to other aspects of the court system. Last year, the
county launched a Mental Health Treatment Court that approaches the
treatment of the mentally ill with the same intensive concentration,
requiring frequent check-ins to make sure defendants are staying on
their medication, maintaining housing, finding work and staying out
of trouble.

"There's a mind shift on how we handle cases," the judge said. "Some
people need to be punished. Others need rehabilitation."

To expand the program into other aspects of the judicial system will
mean finding more resources, the biggest of which may be funding.
Treatment Court officials couldn't put an exact cost on treatment
court; Judge Barrasse estimated at least $100,000 a year.

There are plenty of federal and state funding sources -- the county
gets more than $500,000 in grants for its intermediate and
restrictive intermediate punishment programs and for DUI court.
They've also been given a $500,000 federal grant for drug court.
Just last week, Congress increased funding for drug courts from $10
million to $40 million.

Both national and local officials involved in drug court say the
program actually saves money.

"For every dollar spent on treatment, it saves money," Judge
Barrasse says, adding it's difficult to assign a value to how much is saved.

"They're not coming back in the door and not sitting in prison. How
do you put a specific number on that?"

By the numbers

655 defendants have applied for admission into Treatment Court since 2000.

255 defendants have been denied admission since 2000.

156 clients graduated since it began in 2000.

109 clients kicked out of the program since 2000.

135 clients in the program currently.

15 percent recidivism rate after graduation.

Source: Lackawanna County Treatment Court