DRUG COURT GIVES ADDICTS CHANCE TO REGAIN LIVES

Once upon a time, Debbie Lindsey was a caring mother of three and a
respected elementary teacher in the Norman School District. Then came the
methamphetamine and the marijuana.

"My biggest regret in the world," the 47-year-old said, "was letting my
youngest child, instead of have hopes and dreams of what a mother should
be, see me and the nightmare of addiction."

For three years, Lindsey said, she spiraled into "insane behavior" and
"irrational decision-making," along the way racking up five arrests on
complaints of drug possession and shoplifting.

Her ex-husbands took custody of the children. She was charged with three
drug-related crimes, and she faced a possible prison sentence of at least
five years.

Her life was about to become property of the state. Then the Oklahoma
County Drug Court stepped in.

Months of rehabilitation, drug and alcohol testing, counseling and visits
to court culminated for Lindsey on Friday when she "graduated" from the
court. Six others with similar pasts also graduated.

Charges against all seven were officially dropped at a ceremony in the
Oklahoma County jury selection room. That might seem like reward enough,
but for Lindsey it's just a start.

"It means that I can put the past behind me and go on with my life and live
it the way I need to," she said.

Given the program's history, it's likely she'll succeed.

Last Chances

The drug court program started about five years ago in Oklahoma County. It
is supported by the district attorney's office, the public defender's
office, the sheriff's department, city police, the state Corrections
Department, Community Action Agency-Turning Point and Drug Recovery Inc.
Judge Charles Hill has presided over the drug court since its inception. On
Friday, Hill -- a former city police officer -- took time out from the
ceremony to praise all the agencies involved in the drug court, then
contrasted his pride for the agencies with his feelings about drug court
graduates.

"I am no prouder of those persons (in law enforcement) than I am of these
addicts, these sick persons, who have pulled themselves up from where
they've been," Hill said. "You made me a believer."

The success rate has made believers of many in law enforcement. Since 1998,
about 96 percent of program graduates have not relapsed into drug or
alcohol use, according to data provided by Oklahoma City police Sgt.
Vanessa Price. Just under 90 percent remained productive with no further
arrests on nondrug related charges.

Participants in the drug court program face a minimum of 18 months of
treatment and counseling. Abstinence is confirmed through frequent alcohol
and drug testing. Each participant must obtain and hold a job before
graduation.

All court costs and restitution must also be paid before being considered
for graduation. Failure to adhere to the rules of the drug court results in
mandatory withdrawal from the program and prosecution on the charges
participants faced before entering the program.

It's basically a last stop before prison. It's also a way out.

Emotional Goodbyes

Ericka Stier stood unsteadily Friday before the crowd in the jury selection
room. She was so overwhelmed by emotion she'd started crying even before
she reached the front of the room.

Beside her, counselor Barbara Smith seemed emotional, too, but kept her
composure long enough to introduce Stier to the audience.

"Ericka's been sober for 28 months," Smith said. "She first got in trouble
in 1994, and she stayed in it until 2000, when she joined the drug court.
.. Since then, she's returned to school and is pursuing a degree in
criminal justice.

"She now says she respects the law, but, more importantly, she respects
herself."

When Stier thanked her father for having her jailed, the crowd gave her a
standing ovation. The same reaction came for each of the seven graduates
who passed down the aisle to accept "diplomas."

Lindsey's turn was no different. Her counselor, Keith Cottet, shook his
head softly as he began.

"Debbie, Debbie, Debbie," he said, pacing the words with slow breaths.
"She's been a mess, I'll tell you that. A real mess. She told me once in a
counseling session that she likes to push it to the edge, and she pushed it
over the edge for awhile."

In the last eight months, he said, she moved away from the edge, back to
reality, back to the program she said saved her life.

A few minutes later, the ceremony over, Lindsey took time to reflect on the
change in her life.

"The support behind me was just unbelievable," she said. "The people here
loved me and cared for me and gave me the support I needed. ... During drug
addiction, insane behavior seems to regulate most of your life. Now there's
sanity and regularity in my life again.

"Something would be very wrong with me, being sane now, if I ever chose to
go back to the way I was."