FISHMAN: DRUG COURT IS AN IDEA WORTH THE COST

One of the best ideas I heard came from that quiet, modest fellow on the
end who spoke so low I could hardly hear him, the one who came in late
because he was working.

By Jane Fishman Savannah Morning News

Read past Jane Fishman columns by clicking here. Visit Jane's Garden by
clicking here. Jane's book, "Everyone's Gotta Be Somewhere," is available
at local bookstores or by e-mailing Jane at gofish5 @ earthlink.net. She
can be reached at 652-0313.

If last Monday's crime seminar did nothing else, it got people talking.

One of the best ideas I heard came from that quiet, modest fellow on the
end who spoke so low I could hardly hear him, the one who came in late
because he was working.

James Bass Jr. is a Superior Court judge. One of six for the Eastern
Judicial District, he hears the usual cases about the usual lowlife
criminal activities. Every day, he faces disconnected, disturbed and
defeated young adults, men and women, most of whom are out of work, out of
school, out of skills and out of any plan for the future.

But one morning a week, Bass, who volunteered for the position, presides
over a new type of adjudication. It's called the drug court.

Since one out of every three non-violent felony cases has to do with
possession of drugs -- and since we can't seem to build enough prisons --
someone in this country got the bright idea to focus on treatment rather
than incarceration.

Not a bad idea, since the number of publicly funded treatment centers seems
to have gone the way of the dinosaur. And anyone, rich or poor, who has an
addiction knows how difficult it is to go straight without lots of support.

It kind of makes sense, since we know that, for many, prison does very
little to prepare them for re-entry into the real world, that drug and
alcohol addictions are real, and that so many of the people committing the
crimes against humanity are repeat offenders.

If that's not enough, compare what it takes to jail someone each year --
$20,000 -- with what a year of drug court costs -- between $1,800 and
$4,400 a person. These figures come from Danny DeLoach, Superior Court
administrator.

If a first-offending non-violent prisoner agrees to participate in drug
court -- and Bass and company decide to accept them -- well, that's just
the first step. He or she must meet with a drug counselor daily, attend an
Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous meeting six days a week,
undergo random drug tests, perform 80 hours of community service -- and
appear before Judge Bass each week.

If any one of the above conditions is violated, the person returns to prison.

When the idea of a drug court was proposed, not everyone in the court
system applauded.

"I was skeptical," said a down-to-earth Frances Arnsdorff, Superior Court
deputy court administrator. "We have so many other things to do here. It
all sounded as if it should be part of the health care system, not the
judicial system.

"Just like I don't think it's the job of the schools to teach morals, I
didn't think it was our place to get into rehabilitation. But now I'm a
believer."

But after coordinating the drug court for a year, after seeing the pride
the participants feel from being sober, she has changed her mind.

She also couldn't say enough about Bass.

"It's amazing to watch him," she said.

Judge Louisa Abbott fills in when Bass is unavailable.

"Every week," Arnsdorff said, "he talks to all 40 individually. He knows
everyone by name. If some mess up, he might take them back to his chambers
for a personal one-on-one. When we had a Christmas dinner at the office for
them, he came with his wife. But he knows when someone is trying to pull
something over on him, too."

Now here's the rub. The drug court has been in operation for over a year.
Guess how much the county has contributed? After some office supplies and
the time Bass and Arnsdorff spend? Nothing.

"The city said they'd give us $50,000 and right now they provide us office
space for meeting with counselors," Arnsdorff said, "but we've outgrown it."

So far the court has been financed by some state funds, a little from the
federal government and grant money from the Council of Superior Court Judges.

"That's OK for now," Arnsdorff said. "We're starting slow. But I'm telling
you, I'm not really a touchy-feely person, but you should be there when
they talk about spending birthdays with their kids sober for the first time
in their lives.

"These are people who have never been rewarded for anything in their life.
It takes me two seconds to print out a certificate for when they move from
one phase to another, but you should see their faces when they receive it."

According to Arnsdorff, the following are things the community can do for
this program:

* Contribute free passes to restaurants, movies or bowling alleys to reward
sobriety;

* Contribute bus tokens for people who have jobs but no way to get there;

* Consider hiring drug court participants who are brick masons and car
mechanics, but understand that they have to go to court Tuesday morning and
to daily counseling sessions.

For more information, call Arnsdorff at 652-7128.