Pubdate: Sun, 30 Dec 2001
Source: Evansville Courier & Press (IN)
Copyright: 2002 The Evansville Courier
Contact:  http://www.mapinc.org/media/138
Website: http://www.courierpress.com/
Author: Byron Rohrig, Courier & Press staff writer
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?159 (Drug Courts)

DRUG COURT - PROGRAM BRIDGES GAP BETWEEN LAW AND TREATMENT

At a little past 2 on a Tuesday afternoon, 15 or so people in the courtroom 
rise to their feet as Judge Wayne S. Trockman enters. Trockman wears no 
judicial robe or jacket - just a white shirt and tie - and he seems almost 
embarrassed by the deference as he makes a "please be seated" wave.

Over the next hour, the Vanderburgh Superior Court judge will act as father 
figure, psychologist and motivator as he presides over this week's session 
of Day Reporting Drug Court. Despite the varied roles, Trockman wields 
unmistakable judicial authority over an intensive treatment, rehabilitation 
and supervision program for nonviolent, nondealing, felony drug offenders. 
Trockman is the chief tough-lover, personifying a fusion of humanity and 
enforceable accountability that has been the hallmark of drug courts since 
the first experiment more than a decade ago in a drug-infested Florida 
jurisdiction.

The judge wastes no time bringing forward the first of several participants 
scheduled for court appearances. He knows each participant's history in 
detail. Where successes have come, he takes a moment to celebrate.

Today, "Jane" is up first. She's just received her "chip," a simple but 
coveted memento marking 90 days of freedom from illegally obtained 
prescription drugs, which held her in their sway before her arrest. She 
comes forward, and Trockman asks to see the chip.

Trockman: "Feel good about it?"

Jane: "Yeah."

Trockman: "One more day?"

Jane: "Huh?"

Trockman. "One more day. One day at a time?"

Jane: "Oh. Yeah!"

Trockman: "... I think you're doing great. I'm proud of you. I hope you're 
proud of yourself."

Drug Court is not always a feel-good experience. True, it's a different 
approach to alleged criminals whose chief offense is falling prey to drug 
or alcohol addiction. But it remains a court of law. In the beginning, 
participants must report daily - weekends and holidays included - to a Drug 
Court staff member, submit to unannounced urine tests, report for recovery 
programs, stay on schedule, find jobs, pay program fees and otherwise offer 
evidence they are serious about recovery. Some succeed. Success can mean 
the judge will dismiss the original charge, reduce or set aside sentence or 
offer a lesser penalty. But others fail, or slip and need protection from 
themselves. In those situations, Trockman will summon a deputy sheriff, who 
will place the violator in handcuffs in plain view of all and escort the 
violator to jail.

Then again, at least one participant - jailed recently after a positive 
test for alcohol - was ordered set free by Trockman, who gave him a word of 
encouragement, an admonition to make sure he made a 12 Step meeting that 
evening and an order to report to the court staff first thing in the 
morning. Conversation later about the fledgling program brought to 
Trockman's mind a memory of when he was in private practice.

"I represented an individual in private practice who kept coming in 
occasionally on minor charges - forgery, theft. When he came in on the 
fourth charge in four or five years, I said to him, 'You know, you don't 
have a steady job. You obviously have some kind of drug problem.'"

The client confessed his problem was a $300- to $500-a-day cocaine habit. 
"He began rattling off the stores he knew that would take return 
merchandise for cash." He'd spent years shoplifting and returning the 
merchandise for cash to fund his addiction.

A crush of overt drug and alcohol crimes clog today's courtrooms. But there 
are also hidden drug crimes - masking themselves with labels such as 
robbery, theft, forgery, assault and domestic violence, yet committed to 
finance a habit or because of reckless, anti-social minds of typical users.

Local judges estimate 75 percent to 85 percent of criminal cases in the 
Vanderburgh County court system are directly or indirectly tied to 
substance abuse. More than 1,700 criminal cases have been filed in 
Vanderburgh Circuit and Vanderburgh Superior courts this year.

Said Trockman: "They make bond and they don't stop drinking and they don't 
stop drugging, and they don't stop the ways they typically use to support 
their habits. So you release people into the community who are highly 
likely to commit crimes.

"His family, and sometimes you or I, are the direct victims. And if we are 
not direct victims, you and I are certainly the indirect victims from the 
higher prices we pay at Wal-Mart (to cover losses through theft), from the 
tax dollars spent for the narcotics force, not to mention all the 
additional officers required."

Eventually, offenders may earn nonsuspendible prison time, but usually it 
only takes them off the streets for a while.

Judges, prosecutors and law-enforcement officers have shared the 
frustration of seeing addicts moving from street to jail to street to jail 
as if through a revolving door. Out of these realities - and the need to 
bridge the gap between the authority of law courts and the need of 
offenders for accountability and treatment - the local Drug Court "more 
evolved than was planned," Trockman said. The clear truth that stiffer drug 
penalties have not caused users to become "scared straight" probably 
accounts for the open reception a variety of agencies gave to the local 
Drug Court.

Trockman recalled joining Drug Court Executive Director Debbie Mowbray in 
early meetings with county and city narcotics police officers. "Some of the 
officers mentioned individuals they wanted to see in a program of this 
type, rather than giving these users executed time and certainly rather 
than releasing them back to the street."

Vanderburgh County Sheriff's Department Maj. Steve Woodall, a 
law-enforcement representative on the Drug Court's advisory board, said 
officers, "as they become more educated" about how drug courts operate, 
grow more open to them. "If they see decreased (relapses) by drug offenders 
(as a result of their involvement in drug court programs), you will see a 
greater warming of the law-enforcement officers (to the concept)," Woodall 
said.

Mowbray, Trockman's choice to head the day-to-day operations, became 
interested in the concept five years ago, while on the staff at the SAFE 
House, the county's community corrections complex. "Some of the training I 
had with the (U.S.) Department of Justice for Community Corrections showed 
that's where things were going," said Mowbray, who began passing literature 
about drug courts to Trockman and fellow Superior Court Judge Robert J. 
Tornatta.

Bill Carey, director of the Indiana Judicial Center, has supervised visits 
this fall to every drug court in the state. A pilot program approved by 
Indiana Chief Justice Randall Shepard seeks minimum standards for the 
courts, which Carey believes are a priority for the state judiciary.

"Consider we're spending about $35,000 to incarcerate a person per year, 
and that drug courts cost about $5,000 per person per year, which includes 
putting a person through treatment," said Carey. "Usually we have a 50 
percent success rate. Granted, there are about 25 percent of that 
population that's not going to change. But of the remaining 75 percent (who 
could be candidates for a drug court program), about 50 percent of them are 
being successful. That means changing a person from being a drain on the 
economy to being a contributor."

Those familiar with drug courts are fluent in the numbers Carey cited, 
which come from the U.S. Department of Justice. The Justice Department has 
a history of funding drug courts, including the first one founded in Miami 
12 years ago.
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MAP posted-by: Richard Lake