VA DRUG PROGRAM MAY FACE EXTINCTION

Roanoke Circuit Court Judge Works To Save Drug Court

Roanoke Valley's drug court cost $4,390 per participant in 2000, while
confinement cost $22,500 per prisoner.

It took less than two hours for the looming death of Virginia's drug courts
to affect the Roanoke Valley.

It was early afternoon March 8, and judges had just heard that the (
http://legis.state.va.us/ ) General Assembly didn't provide money for the
program, which could have made Virginia the first state in the nation to
scuttle drug courts.

Circuit Judge Robert "Pat" Doherty was supposed to hear a drug court plea
later that day. Instead, he called lawyers in the case to his chambers to
tell them that the valley's drug courts could not accept new participants.

"I was really ready for it, too," said the defendant, Richard John Lorenz
IV, who faces charges of possessing cocaine and other controlled substances.
Lorenz declined further comment.

Lorenz and others - low-level dealers and nonviolent addicts - have had the
option of drug court, where a judge supervises them as they participate in
addiction treatment, community service and other programs to turn their
lives around while avoiding prison sentences.

Drug courts across Virginia had hoped for $2.7 million in state funding for
the coming fiscal year, beginning in July. But the General Assembly, facing
extensive financial problems, did not provide it. It was included in former
Gov. Jim Gilmore's budget, said House Majority Leader (
mailto:Del_Griffith@house.state.va.us ) Morgan Griffith, R-Salem.

Griffith said there aren't enough lawmakers who really understand the drug
courts' value. Some politicians in a position to help were from rural areas
where drug courts had little or no impact, Griffith said.

The issue is left with Gov. ( http://www.governor.state.va.us/ ) Mark
Warner. His office is studying the issue, said Ellen Qualls, Warner's press
secretary.

"He has the power, but he's got to find the money somewhere," Griffith said.

Since 1989, when the first drug court began in Florida, all 50 states have
started their own, said Susan Weinstein of the National Association of Drug
Court Professionals, in Alexandria. Other states, too, have had budget
problems, and their drug courts have felt the pinch, she said.

"But none has been as drastic as Virginia, to wipe out the entire program,"
Weinstein said.

It is unclear whether federal money will be available to restart the
programs if they end.

The situation has put Circuit Judge Diane Strickland in an unusual position
- - fund-raiser. Strickland, who in 1995 was instrumental in making the 23rd
Judicial Circuit the first in the state to include drug court, said she is
uncomfortable with the new task. But, she said, she is committed to staving
off the end of what has become a documented crime-fighting and financial
success.

"It has been one of the greatest joys I've had as a judge," she said.

Former participants are also getting involved in the effort to keep it
alive. Vinnie Dabney, a recovering heroin addict from Roanoke, successfully
completed the program in 2000. Dabney and other drug court graduates are
part of a postcard campaign, sending pro-drug-court cards and letters to
Warner.

"When you're trying to adjust the budget to real terms, I'm sure it's hard
to decide what to save and what to throw out," Dabney said. "But this is a
program worth saving."

The numbers prove it, according to a ( http://www.vt.edu/ ) Virginia Tech
study. Sixty-eight percent of 261 participants have graduated recently, an
improvement over the 1999 rate of 60 percent. Only 7 percent of graduates
received new convictions.

The valley's program cost $4,390 per participant in 2000, while confinement
cost $22,500 per prisoner.

Now, participants aren't sure what's going to become of them. Kathy
Whitaker, 41, of Roanoke started drug court only three weeks ago, after
being arrested Christmas Eve on a grand larceny charge, her second in a
year. Her troubles began with her addiction to the painkillers OxyContin and
Dilaudid, Whitaker said. Authorities saw right away that she would be a good
candidate for drug court, said her attorney, David Lawrence. Her recent
legal troubles were her first.

"I'm not turning back" to addiction, she said. "But it scares me to think
that I've been promised this, and it might be taken away."

Strickland said she is keeping that promise in mind as she works on a
solution. She said she spent part of the week searching for private
contributions to save an institution that helps hundreds across the state,
and more than 100 in the Roanoke Valley.

"My first priority is to not turn all these people out of the program," she
said. "There's a real legal issue to address here, that has never been
addressed before: What do you do when the commonwealth and the defense have
entered into an agreement, and it can't be carried forth?

"This is new territory to be charted, and I'm trying to prevent charting
that territory."