DRUG COURT A FRESH START

Program Offers Defendants A Way Out Of The Criminal Justice System

He's known for his homemade cookies, but this time probation officer
Steve Kauffman brought chocolate fudge to Courtroom 3-E.

"I'm looking forward to trying it," a man said to Kauffman on a recent
Friday outside the courtroom.

This was no ordinary batch of fudge, a fact not lost on the man in the
hallway. When Kauffman brings dessert to the Leon County Courthouse,
it can mean only one thing - someone is graduating from drug court.

Every other Friday, first-time felony drug offenders gather in the
courtroom as part of the Leon County Felony Drug Intervention Program.
The drug court, which emphasizes counseling and drug testing instead
of fines and prison sentences, offers defendants a rare chance out of
the criminal justice system.

Folks who successfully complete drug court end up not behind bars or
on probation but with dismissed charges and expunged records.

Participants come from all walks - college students caught with the
designer drug Ecstasy, nurses and housewives arrested for prescription
drug fraud, lawyers busted for cocaine possession, construction
workers found with marijuana.

Some come seeking help for their drug problems. Others come seeking
salvation from prison.

"I honestly believe that most people who enter into drug court are
really much more interested in getting their charge dismissed than
they are in getting drug treatment," said Owen McCaul, the assistant
state attorney who prosecutes drug court cases. "I think most of them
see drug treatment as a means to an end rather than an end itself."

Noelle Bush, the 24-year-old daughter of Gov. Jeb Bush, is expected to
enter the local drug court after she completes a residential treatment
program. Bush was arrested earlier this year after she allegedly tried
to buy Xanax with a phony prescription at Walgreens on North Monroe
Street.

Nancy Daniels, the Leon County public defender who helped launch the
program, said drug courts are better than traditional courtrooms in
stopping the revolving doors of justice associated with drug offenders.

"As they go through the program, you start to see their eyes shine,"
she said. "A lot of times, they get a job. They just start to function
better. It's an amazing phenomenon. It's one of the most constructive
court programs I've ever seen or known about."

Real Intervention

Drug courts boast low recidivism rates and relatively inexpensive
operating costs. Researchers estimate more than 50 percent of
defendants convicted on drug possession charges will end up back in
the system on similar charges within two or three years.

That number drops to between 5 and 28 percent for drug court
participants and as low as 4 percent for drug court graduates,
according to the National Criminal Justice Reference Service. And for
every dollar spent on treatment, five are saved in prison costs,
according to Bill Wills, deputy court administrator for the 2nd
Judicial Circuit.

The local drug court runs on a shoestring. It receives about $60,000 a
year in grant money from the city, county and state, and participants
pay $50 a month to help cover costs, Wills said.

Drug courts are successful because of their unique combination of
treatment, court supervision and real intervention in people's lives,
Daniels said.

"I believe the articles that say if you intervene in an addict's
behavior for a year, they have a very good chance of beating it for a
long time if not forever," Daniels said.

The first drug court in the nation came in 1989 in Miami-Dade County,
where court officials were grappling with the crack-cocaine epidemic.
Leon County's drug court opened for judicial business in 1994. Since
then, some 700 drug courts have been established nationwide.

Not everyone is eligible for drug court, and those who participate do
so voluntarily. In Leon County, only people charged with second- and
third-degree purchase or possession felonies can participate. People
charged with misdemeanor drug offenses or trafficking are not eligible.

Those who enter drug court sign a contract agreeing not to use drugs
or alcohol for the length of the program, typically a year to 18
months. They also must attend regular counseling sessions and submit
to twice-a-week drug and alcohol screens at the Drug Testing Center on
North Monroe Street.

The screens are necessary to make sure defendants are living up to
their drug court obligations.

"Somebody can talk to you until they're blue in the face and tell you
they're not using," said Michelle Harkness, clinical director of the
testing center. "But without drug testing as an objective tool, you
have nothing."

Defendants who test positive often leave the courtroom in handcuffs
for a weekend or more in jail. Those who test positive more than twice
are often removed from drug court and rerouted to regular criminal
court.

'A Wake-Up Call'

While McCaul and Daniels agree on the effectiveness of drug court,
they differ on how broad the program should be. Daniels, along with
Tallahassee Police Chief Walt McNeil, would like to see it expanded to
allow other offenders whose crimes are driven by drugs.

"To me, that's one of the weaknesses of drug court," Daniels said. "It
only addresses felony drugs."

McCaul, who often spars with Daniels in the courtroom, said such an
expansion is unnecessary.

Daniels also would like to see the drug court, which averages 60 or so
participants at any given time, expanded to include a residential
treatment program.

"If someone is just very sick with addiction and cannot afford private
residential treatment, we haven't had a way to keep that type of
person in drug court," she said.

Still, the program, which also includes a juvenile division, has
produced success stories, such as the man in the hallway outside
Courtroom 3-E. He is not being identified because the drug court
guarantees confidentiality for its participants.

The man had waited a long time to sample Kauffman's homemade desserts,
which are given to drug court participants on the day they graduate.

In August 2000, Leon County sheriff's deputies charged him with
cultivation of cannabis, a third-degree felony, after finding
marijuana plants growing in pots in his front yard. The man, 38 years
old at the time, faced five years in prison and a felony record.
Instead, he spent more than a year in drug court.

On a recent Friday, he stood before Leon Circuit Judge Jonathan
Sjostrom, who presides over drug court, as Daniels spoke.

"Your honor, at this time, after a long hard journey ... I'm happy to
see that he's graduating and hereby move to dismiss his charge,"
Daniels said.

The man thanked the court for the opportunity to go through the
program. Court records showed the man had been sanctioned several
times for missed or positive drug and alcohol tests.

"It was a tremendous wake-up call," he said. "It was long and hard,
and I'm glad it's over with."

After a round of applause, the man strode out of the courtroom,
grabbing the plastic bag of Kauffman's fudge along the way.

"All right!" the man exclaimed as he swung open the courtroom doors
and disappeared from view.