IN DRUG COURT, 'GET WELL OR GO TO JAIL'

BRADENTON - Once a week, Circuit Judge Janette Dunnigan sheds her
black robe and leads a fast-paced walk along city streets.

"C'mon, slowpokes," she calls out to the recovering drug addicts who
trail behind.

The 30 minutes of walking and talking gives her and counselor Charles
Mead more than just one-on-one time with drug addicts struggling to
overcome their addiction. It also lets her practice her "holistic
approach" to drug treatment, which includes diet, exercise, a dose of
mothering and even acupuncture treatments. "If you're taking drugs to
feel good and you can feel good by doing something healthy, then why
not substitute that?" she asks. "We try to treat the mind and body."

Dunnigan runs Manatee County's drug court program, one of 82 in a
state that saw about 10,000 new "clients" in 2001.

Unlike criminal court, which Dunnigan said is focused on punishment,
drug court is focused on rehabilitation and treatment, and is an
attempt to divert drug users from the criminal justice system. "This
is basically an outpatient treatment program," Dunnigan said.

Jim McDonough, director of the Florida Office of Drug Control, said
drug court is a way to break the endless cycle of "addiction, crime,
arrest, prosecution, incarceration, (release), addiction, crime."

"Left to their own devices, they're not going to get well," McDonough
said. In drug court, the approach is "get well or go to jail," he said.

It typically takes 12 to 18 months to graduate from drug court,
although some manage in as few as nine months. People accused of drug
offenses who have no history of violent crime are eligible for the
program, and are either offered entry by the state attorney's office
or suggested as good candidates by private attorneys. Drug court can
also be imposed as part of the sentence for those who plead guilty to
a drug offense.

Court participants must get tested for drugs as often as once a day,
get group therapy and individual counseling, perform public service,
pay fees and appear before the judge to update her on their progress.

"Sometimes I feel like their mother," Dunnigan said, "but (this) mommy
gets to put you in jail when you misbehave."

But make no mistake. Dunnigan is no pushover. She's not shy about
chiding her clients from the stand or while walking along the
riverfront. Failure means jail, either for a long weekend to remind
the clients of the consequences of their actions, or for a much longer
period if they quit the program or flunk out. "This is like the chance
of a lifetime," she said. Those who complete the program are not
taking the easy way out, Dunnigan said. "When I'm finished with them,
quite frankly, they have done far more than they would have in the
criminal justice system." 'If you want it bad enough ' Graduation
means the drug charges are dismissed, as if they were filed by
mistake, she said.

That's Drew's goal. The 22-year-old father of two, who asked that his
last name not be used, said he hopes to complete the program so that
his arrest for possession of cocaine and marijuana won't affect his
chances of joining the Navy.

"Now I got a chance to do what I wanted to do before," he said. The
program leaves it up to you, Drew said. "If you want it bad enough,
you can do it." Matt Perry, 21, was arrested in Tampa's Ybor City for
possession of marijuana and has been in the program since October. He
failed several urinalysis tests, but says he now has a simple solution
for success. "I just ain't gonna use no more," he said. "They haven't
had a great deal of attention and I think they're responding to it,"
Dunnigan said of her clients.

Current clients can look to success stories such as Agnes Dufour, who
spent so much on crack cocaine that she ended up living in a shack off
Fruitville Road built from scrounged wooden pallets. After graduating
from drug court in November 1997, she got a job with the public
defender's office, got her driver's license, reunited with her family
and got married on May 3. "Agnes is my special hero," Dunnigan said.
Dunnigan is a former public defender and assistant state attorney, and
veteran of other courts in the circuit: family, probate, criminal,
juvenile and civil. She has been on the drug court bench since
January, so she is still setting up the program.

Chiropractor and longtime friend Jeff Morrison said he's lining up
students from a Sarasota acupuncture school, a hypnotherapist and
trainers from Shapes and Southside athletic clubs "to get them
addicted to exercise." Statewide graduation rates won't be available
for several weeks, but in Manatee County, 393 clients have
participated in the program since 1997 and 175 have graduated,
Dunnigan said. Of that number, 24 have been rearrested and only four
have been convicted of any drug felonies, she said.

"I think that is an extremely significant number," Dunnigan said,
considering they're dealing with addictions.

She also said 50 percent of the crimes now committed wouldn't exist
because they're drug-related. Other counties reported a lower
recidivism rate among drug court graduates.

In Sarasota County, 13.8 percent of the graduates were rearrested for
a drug-related crime. Charlotte County did not provide data to the
state.

In Pinellas County, about 13 percent of the adult drug court
graduates committed another crime. In Escambia County, only 12 percent
of drug court graduates were re-arrested.

"When you do the math on that, the savings are very good. When you
then do the incalculable human potential saved, it's a gold mine," he
said. The Manatee program has collected more than $79,000 in fees and
more than $13,000 in restitution from court clients, and participants
have performed more than 10,000 hours of community service.

Those statistics represent a savings of $4 million to the community,
Dunnigan said.

"If we incarcerate someone, it's going to cost us on average of
$19,000 per year and we're likely to see that person again and
again and again," McDonough said.

Drug court costs about $2,000 to $3,000 per year and "the
probabilities of success with the drug court program are higher than
virtually any other treatment," he said.