DRUG COURT OFFERS HOPE TO ADDICTED

Judge Charles Hill's small courtroom filled up quickly as people assigned to
drug court file in and greeted each other like old classmates at a reunion. For
some, it was graduation day. They'd tested negative for months and were ready
to advance to aftercare, where they would mentor others or have the charges
against them dismissed.

For others, it was judgment day. Their urinalysis came back dirty or they
violated the drug court's rules. They were going to jail for the weekend, or to
prison for years.

"Sandra Coleman."

A petite 13-year crack cocaine addict, who kept to herself on a crowded wooden
bench, braced for Hill's assessment of her progress.

"Ms. Coleman, how many days have you been sober?"

"Sixteen days," said Coleman, her long dark hair flowing over a delicate pink
blouse.

Hill's face, stoic as he studied her progress report, broke into a broad smile.

"Sixteen days of sobriety," Hill beamed.

The judge's pronouncement sparked thunderous applause from addicts and court
clerks alike.

Next up was Keith Day, who said he's been clean for one year, three months and
28 days following 20 years of drug addiction.

"I'm a recovering meth addict," Day said. "I would like to thank Judge Hill for
this opportunity."

Applause followed Day's words as it did the testimony of a dozen other people
whose statements of sobriety provoked the kind of positive feedback drug court
encourages. It's recognition they're winning the battle against addiction.

Such scenes are unlike any found in a typical courtroom. It's something
repeated in 15 other drug courts across Oklahoma, including one in Tulsa County
where Judge Sarah Smith presides.

"Let me shake your hand," a smiling Smith said to Bronco Anderson, who is
progressing in drug court after twice going to prison on drug and alcohol
violations.

"In all honesty," the 28-year-old said of drug court, "it saved my life."

Three out of four nonviolent offenders who enter Oklahoma drug courts graduate
from the program.

For some, the drug court experience is the first time they have ever been
praised for not using drugs.

The positive reinforcement is not limited to smiles and applause.

Rhonda Eubank, a recovering methamphetamine addict and and marijuana abuser,
petitioned to move on to Phase IV of Hill's drug court program, a step
requiring her to not use drugs for at least 90 days, keep a job and show a
commitment to a drug-free lifestyle.

Eubank tearfully recalled her fight to kick her addiction.

"Most of all," she said, "wish me luck."

Court personnel showered Eubank with hugs and praise. "We're very, very proud
of you," Hill said.

Courtroom chatter fell to a low hush when the judge confronted a man whose
urinalysis test indicates he recently used methamphetamine.

"I don't know how that could have happened," the man said.

"Well, I do," Hill said. The judge remanded him to the custody of sheriff's
deputies to spend the weekend in jail.

The man found a chair alongside a line of inmates dressed in orange uniforms
and shackled together at the wrists. Some hoped to qualify for the drug court
program; others were at risk of losing their eligibility. They were led by
deputies into the courtroom in a sad display known by court veterans as "The
Parade of Orange."

During a brief recess, Barbara Thomas, who was re- arrested within days of
entering drug court, pleaded with public defender Jeannie Bauman, who helped
develop the program.

"It's too late," Bauman said. "You're not going to be in drug court. You're
going to jail for at least 20 years."

Tears welled up in Thomas' eyes and she shook her head.

"I don't have any more chances!" Thomas cried out.

People new to drug court listened intently as Bauman described what's expected
of them.

"If you don't want this program, then we're wasting our time," she said. "If
you really want to get off drugs, if you really don't want to go to prison, if
you want to have a relationship with your family, fine. We want you here. We
want you not to be in orange ever again."

Drug court's rewards and punishments are geared toward achieving what all drug
users wish for when faced with a lifetime of addiction or incarceration.

"It's getting to the end result of maintaining your sobriety," Hill said.