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Dealing With Addiction

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Recently I sat in a full courtroom and watched an everyday drama in my home town. On a screen set up in front of the judge's bench were two pictures of the subject, a man named Ben. On the left side his clothes were torn and dirty, his hair uncombed, his face unwashed, and his expression one of suffering. On the right he appeared well-groomed and pleasant. The images disappeared and a rap sheet came up on the screen: breaking and entering, reckless driving and assault on a police officer.

Ben stood to the left of the screen flanked by Ford Kessler, the director of Safe Harbor Recovery Center; Richard Davies, the public defender; Juelie Dalzell the county prosecutor; and Superior Court Judge Craddock Verser. A few uniformed officers stood around the courtroom.

Juelie Dalzell explained that his repeated offenses brought Ben to the attention of the court system three years ago. The prosecutor had offered Ben the choice between either long-term incarceration or short-term jailing followed by participation in the Jefferson County Drug Court. He chose the latter. After he completed his stint in jail, he entered a program of intensive treatment. He had been told, as participants in Drug Court are always told, that there was no set laundry list of things he had to do and no set time that the program would last. It would take as long as it took him. If, in the course of that, he broke the law he would be treated as any other offender. In fact, Ben did serve a few weeks of time during his recovery when his old behaviors temporarily returned.

Ford Kessler talked about Ben's treatment at Safe Harbor Recovery Center, a privately owned outpatient chemical dependency treatment agency that provides care for Jefferson County residents. He noted the stark changes in his appearance since he entered the program. The defense attorney, the judge, and even the prosecutor had good things to say about Ben. Members of the audience were invited to speak. Ben's family said they were grateful he had returned to them. They could relate to him again. He was no longer on the other side of the high wall of addiction. Several of Ben's friends spoke up.

After about 15 minutes the county prosecutor took Ben's file and threw it in the trash to be shredded. As long as Ben continued to fulfill the promise that he had shown through the program, he would be treated as if his past crimes had not occurred. Should he transgress again, the full authority of the law would once again fall upon him.

Six others followed Ben in front of the courtroom, and each went through this process of atonement and reconciliation with their families and neighbors. They did not close their eyes to the past. Still, they knew they had taken very concrete steps towards a better present and a more promising future.

As I looked around the courtroom I wondered how many of the people there had felt alienated from society and had given up their faith in the legal establishment and the police. At this moment in this courtroom, it was clear that the police and the legal system were not there to make their lives miserable but to help them live peaceful and productive lives.

Jefferson County Drug Court is one of 2,000 drug courts nationwide whose goal is to break the cycle of addiction by combining the skills of law enforcement and social services. The court oversees treatment and other interventions designed to help the chemically dependent person get clean and sober and re-enter society. Drug courts have proved so effective, that U.S. Drug Czar Gil Kerlikowske has asked to double the funding to support them next year.

Drug Court is a relative new approach to drug abuse. Years ago I worked at a hospital-based alcoholism treatment center in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Most of our patients were referred by employers in the area. If a man's wife complained about his drinking, that often did not cut a lot of ice. When his employer said you go to treatment or you don't come back then most of them turned up at our door. Like most treatment centers, we had good success in treating these men. We knew the ins and outs. When they were drinking there wasn't much use talking to them. All you could do was keep them confined to the hospital or treatment center so they could not get alcohol, then wait for their brains to clear. This could take a week, a month or sometimes several months. Then class began, both cognitive, relational, and emotional.

The employers were happy to pay the money that it took because 1) They needed these skilled employees and would rather keep them on the team than try to find someone else; 2) It cost less for treatment than it did to replace the worker – a lot of these companies were spending up to $10,000 (1978 dollars) to find and train each new employee; 3) it was important for morale that they took care of their employees. The companies were wise enough to take a no-fault approach. Their attitude was – it's not your fault if you have an alcohol or drug problem,but once you know about it, you must take responsibility for it. We will hold you accountable from now on.

Companies that paid for substance-abuse treatment knew the value of a dollar. Like hospital-based treatment, drugs courts not only save lives, they also save money.

According to the Rand think tank, amphetamine use in the United States cost $23.4 billion in 2005 including

  • cost to community of crime committed by drug users
  • cost of law enforcement and the judicial system
  • cost of incarceration
  • cost of treatment
  • provision of living expenses for families of people in jail
  • provision of medical care for family members harmed by the user
  • lost economic potential.

That works out to $2.3 million for Jefferson County, based on our population. By contrast, it cost approximately $4,950 to treat a participant in Drug Court. In its 6 years of existence, Jefferson County Drug Court has had a base budget of $65,000 a year, supplemented by other state and county funds. Jefferson County Drug Court has had 127 participants, of which 47 have graduated, and of that number, there are three individuals known to have re-offended. There are currently 19 active clients in Drug Court.

Critics charge that drug courts provide social services under a judicial guise. They say substance abusers chose their poison and don't deserve public funds. But do we need to get mired in the blame game? Isn't it better to focus on the solution? Those in favor of drug courts, of whom I am one, propose that we dismount from our moral high horse and concentrate on the future we wish to see. Which will it be, an expensive revolving door between the prisons and the local crime scene, or an adherence to what works to reduce crime and protect the public?

And to achieve that objective in Jefferson County, we must use our tax money to pay for the Drug Court and support the Safe Harbor Recovery Center, our major treatment center. Currently the treatment center operates just four days a week because of budget cuts from Olympia.

Drug court is just one of many public programs threatened by our reluctance to pay taxes. Too often when election day comes, those who offer the delusional promise that they can save our money by resisting new taxes sway the vote. You don't hear as much about how costly it is to neglect education, drug abuse treatment and physical infrastructure – all those boring and critically important activities those taxes could pay for. (True, we can always spend our tax money more wisely. Regarding the medical field, we've discussed this in our August 2006 newsletter.)

At Ben's hearing, his friend, Joe, got up and kidded him about his old life of crime. He said he was impressed that Ben had done so well. He hoped Ben would continue on the straight and narrow because if Ben didn't, and Joe's tools disappeared, he knew where to go and look for them. That got a chuckle in the courtroom but it brought a lump to my throat. Ben had made a terrible mistake, but he also had a family and friends who loved him deeply. Let's keep Drug Court in our county and folks like Ben out of the nightmarish and dysfunctional "war on drugs." Your choice.

Dear Doctor
It's a bright summery day, one for us all to enjoy, and I then read your comments that explained that you cannot do anything to forgo my mortality. I found this strangely reassuring. My step lightened and I will enjoy my day all the more.

Thanks for sharing your wisdom.

Gary Smith
Port Townsend