Photo By Graham Lienhart

Jail would have been quicker, but Rachel Danaher is glad she went through drug court.

On July 20, 2005, Rachel Danaher walked across the stage at the commencement ceremony for the 27th Alcohol and Drug Addiction Partnership Treatment program. She claimed her acrylic star after four years in the Hamilton County Drug Court. Clean and sober, she was ready to strike out on her own.

"The only way is living and doing the right next thing," Danaher said. "Today I get to take the first next step. Thank you for guiding me to live my life another way."

Six months later the 30-year-old mother of three talks about her past -- living with her parents, not paying bills and "being irresponsible" -- as her old life. Her new life is hard but successful.

"It's not the greatest thing in the world but it feels good because I'm able to keep my job, I can pay my bills," Danaher says. "My money doesn't go to drugs and alcohol. It's going toward food and bills and life, whatever comes my way. It feels good but it's stressful.

"I'm glad I took treatment instead of my six months (in jail). I could of just taken my six months, been done with it and didn't have to go through the four years that I went through."

Danaher says she was charged with possession of cocaine and driving under the influence. She spent four years in and out of jail and treatment under the watchful eye of Common Pleas Judge Kim Burke.

Sentenced to get clean
Burke won't discuss specific defendants when she talks about how the court works.

"Any person who's charged with a lower-level felony of the fourth degree or fifth degree, their cases automatically come through drug court for processing," she says. "There are some caveats. For instance, if you're charged with murder and you have some cocaine on you, that'll get processed as a regular criminal case.

"If you have a history of violence, especially felony violence, you're not a person who's going to be in drug court. If you have extensive mental health issues such that they can't be addressed along with the addiction, there are separate treatment modalities for that."

The assessment process determines the nature of the addiction and the defendant's readiness to participate in treatment.

"I can think of a person who wanted to give up," Burke says. "She just didn't think she was going to be successful. The assessment came back that she was appropriate but just didn't have the confidence that she could do it. She thought, 'I just can't do this. I'm gonna take the easy way out.'

"About two status reports in, I got another good status report, and I congratulated her. She mouthed to me, 'Thank you so much.' She told her counsel that she was really grateful that I took the chance on her and didn't give her the easy way out. I have some discretion, but ultimately you can't force a person to do it. They have to want to do it for themselves."

Talbert House, a nonprofit agency, conducts outpatient and inpatient treatment. During the first weeks a client sees a counselor four times, does treatment work assigned by the counselor, submits to three or four random urine tests, meets with her probation officer, meets with her sponsor and attends three 12-step meetings. At least once a month she will participate in a status meeting with the judge.

The stringent requirements "step down" as a defendant proves herself capable of self-guidance. Burke says long-term treatment is the only kind proven effective.

"They can't be considered for graduation until at least a year, but I tend to make it 15 to 18 months," Burke says. "I think that's one thing that helps, intensive supervision over a long term."

Hamilton County Prosecutor Joe Deters agrees.

"This court is unique in that a personal relationship between the judge and the defendant is the crucial element in the success of the court," he says. "Sometimes there's tough love involved. There are relapses -- it's just that personal continuity that makes it a success."

For the 'saveable'
That "tough love" comes in the form of "therapeutic incarceration." When a person fails a drug test, skips a class or violates any requirement of the treatment program, anyone on the team can ask the judge to throw him in jail.

"They understand what's going on, what the consequences are," Burke says. "After a short time out, go back in and focus in on treatment. Oftentimes it's motivating to people because they don't want to do that any more. It used to surprise me when people thanked me for locking them up."

That's what it took for Danaher to finally break her addictive cycle.

"I kept getting thrown in jail for therapeutic (incarceration). I didn't get it and didn't get it," she says. "I really don't think jail is the answer, but the way Judge Burke did it is absolutely right. Throw them in jail for a week or two or a month then let them go back into treatment. Just give them a taste."

The system requires coordination of the efforts of many people: probation officers, treatment counselors, prosecuting and defense attorneys, the judge and law enforcement. That collaboration is possible because of the efforts of the drug court founder, former Judge Deirdre Hair.

In 1995 Hair pioneered the concept of a holistic approach to addressing drug abuse in Hamilton County courts. She lobbied to get key players, including Deters, on board. He became an enthusiastic supporter who helped secure the necessary funding, 85 percent of which comes from the county's health and hospitalization services property tax, better known as the Drake levy.

In addition to treatment, clients are directed to services such as assistance with housing and job placement.

"What Kim does and what Judge Hair did before her is not only a kind thing; I also think it's a just thing to do," Deters says. "There are some people who commit acts that are so bad that, in my mind, they are unsaveable. There are saveable people in the justice system, and I count many of these people with their addictions in the saveable category."

Drug court processed 1,786 cases in 2005.

"From a very practical standpoint, if we were to incarcerate a person for possession of drugs, I'm sure the drug possession cases could fill this jail, plus another jail, plus another jail," Burke says. "The cost is incredible. I understand it's over $20,000 a year to incarcerate one person for a year.

"For residential treatment, we're talking at most $4,000 a year. A vast majority of our people go through outpatient treatment, which is even less expensive. Plus the long-term benefits of it are extraordinary. If you're looking at how a community wants to utilize its resources, why not take a chance at spending, at most, $4,000 on a person and having them be rehabilitated? There are treatment programs in prison, but it's not the same."

Danaher's story seems to show that the cheaper system works.

"I believe in treatment," she says. "I believe everybody at least needs at least a shot at going to treatment instead of going to jail." ©