Drug Court Trying To Free Its Defendants Addicts Given Choice: Go Straight Or Go Straight To Jail

Step into Drug Court for the first time and you might think something’s gone terribly wrong with the justice system.

There’s the prosecutor, sitting away from everybody else, not looking the least bit interested in prosecuting.

The public defender’s walking around the courtroom like he owns the place.

Wait a minute. There’s the judge - giving flowers to the defendant.

“I’m not interested in your guilt or innocence,” the judge is telling the 23-year-old woman, a self-proclaimed drug addict whose worn face looks older than it should.

“This isn’t about justice in its original form,” he goes on. “It’s about justice in what I feel is its truest form.”

Getting clean. Getting off drugs. Getting better.

It’s working for John Van Allen, a methamphetamine user who lost his job and his family to a sporadic 10-year addiction.

When he was arrested in January, Van Allen enrolled in Drug Court, a new Spokane County program that gives people caught with drugs a choice of completing a year of treatment or going to jail.

If defendants get through the program, the felony drug charges against them are dropped. They’re offered treatment, help in finding a job and continuous contact with counselors along the way.

In exchange, defendants are subject to random drug tests - even for alcohol - and must appear before Superior Court Judge James Murphy twice a month for progress reports.

During these checkups, a drug counselor, state Department of Corrections officer and defense attorney each tell Murphy how things are going for the defendant. The judge asks about treatment, withdrawal, employment, transportation problems.

“How are you doing?” he wants to know. The defendants, with their attorney Michael Kenny, leave little out.

Deputy Prosecutor Mark Laiminger listens and takes notes but says little. He does background checks on potential Drug Court clients to make sure they’re eligible, but after that, his job mostly is “to wait and see.”

If a defendant doesn’t make it through treatment, Laiminger goes to work again - as the prosecutor he’s used to being.

He admits he was skeptical of the program at first.

“Still am, maybe,” he said, eyeing the day’s lineup of Drug Court hopefuls. “Put it this way: I’m intrigued.”

Despite the possibility of avoiding jail and having a felony charge dismissed, some defendants want no part of Drug Court and its one-year commitment. After all, most first-time drug offenders get out of jail in a month or less.

Since Jan. 1, 18 defendants have been offered the treatment program. Seven have signed up and six still are deciding.

Five others didn’t make it for various reasons.

One man’s violent criminal record disqualified him from the program and one woman didn’t want treatment.

Three more defendants didn’t show up for the required evaluation at a local treatment center, including one who received a $50,000 inheritance and immediately disappeared.

Sabrina Burnley, whom Murphy gave flowers on Valentine’s Day, also hasn’t been seen since signing up for Drug Court. There’s a warrant out for her arrest.

“It makes me sad,” said Murphy, who takes a personal, parentlike interest in each defendant’s recovery. “I wanted her to make it.”

Burnley may not be dropped from Drug Court yet, however. Murphy said he’ll try getting her into an inpatient treatment program instead because Burnley told him the temptations on the street are too much for her.

“We have to tolerate some relapses in the beginning,” said Murphy, who estimates about half of Drug Court participants will stay clean, sober and crime-free. “It’s a long, hard road for these people.”

For Van Allen, the first defendant to join Drug Court and stay with it, a chance at a clean start was one he couldn’t pass up.

“I asked myself: Do I want to end up killing myself or end up in the joint, losing my kids forever?” the 34-year-old mechanic said. “A person’s got to decide.”

He moved in with his mother, abandoned his friends and started going to two-hour counseling meetings three times a week.

He gained more than 10 pounds in the first 14 days of treatment.

“When I showed up that first day in court, I looked like the walking dead,” Van Allen recalled.

Now, he focuses his time on looking for a job, with help from Gheorghe Turcin, a corrections officer who makes sure Drug Court clients are where they’re supposed to be.

“He needs the job,” Turcin said, clearly frustrated. “He is doing well, but not having work, it can be discouraging.”

But Van Allen, who has hopeful blue eyes and a neat, short haircut inspired by Drug Court, understands. A two-time ex-con can’t expect instant trust from potential employers, he said.

While he would like to work on cars, Van Allen has expanded his search, applying at restaurants and employment agencies for a variety of positions.

“Something will come up,” he said confidently.

His counselor, Tom Lloyd, hopes so. Van Allen’s drug tests have been clean since the first week he joined the program.

“If I were a boss, this is the guy I’d want,” Lloyd said of his client. “He’s being monitored; he’s being watched, tested, all the time. You know he’s clean. There’s a lot of people making sure.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: HOW IT WORKS About 50 people facing drug charges are expected to receive outpatient treatment and monitoring through Spokane County’s new Drug Court this year. The program, supported by nearly $200,000 in federal money, is designed to slow the endless cycle of addiction and crime that clogs courts and jail cells. Only people caught with small amounts of felony drugs are eligible for Drug Court. Excluded are drug dealers and anyone with a record of violence or sex crimes. Those who sign up admit their guilt and waive their right to a trial. If they successfully complete the yearlong program, charges are dropped. If they fail, they go directly to jail. About 30 cities in the United States have similar programs.