Pubdate: Mon, 28 Jan 2002
Source: Press-Enterprise (CA)
Copyright: 2002 The Press-Enterprise Company
Contact:  http://www.pe.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/830
Author: David Seaton

LAW HELPING DRUG USERS

PROP. 36: Therapists are pleased, but some officials see hardened 
criminals avoiding prison.

Rodney Martinez, 37, says he has spent much of his adult life messing 
up, and much of it high on methamphetamine.

His rap sheet goes like this, Martinez says. Possession. Under the 
influence. Possession with intent to sell. Strong-arm robbery. 
Conspiracy to sell. Possession.

"From the day I was 18, I was in andout of jails," Martinez said. 
Peter Phun/The Press-Enterprise Nicole Chrismon, 33, left, and 
Elizabeth Millward, 24, are clients at a recovery house who are 
getting treatment through Prop. 36.

Arrested last year with two-tenths of a gram of meth hidden in a 
shirt pocket, the Moreno Valley resident faced seven years in state 
prison because of his checkered past.

But something happened on the way to the big house: a Riverside 
County judge qualified him for Prop. 36, the state law that, 
beginning July 1 last year, sends nonviolent drug offenders to 
treatment instead of jail or prison.

Martinez, with his long criminal record and $300-per-day habit, is 
not the casual drug-user some thought Prop. 36 was meant for. But the 
small quantity of contraband found on Martinez was not enough to 
charge him with intent to sell, and Martinez is now free on probation 
after graduating from treatment.

"The authors of Prop. 36 either misjudged or misrepresented who we 
should expect coming into the program," said Marie Whittington, chief 
probation officer for Riverside County. "They were representing that 
these were young, low-level offenders, nonviolent, new to the system."

But treatment advocates say the law is working as intended -- pushing 
society's addicts into recovery instead of locking them up, time and 
again, at great expense to taxpayers.

"If they got treatment a long time ago, they might not have these 
records," said Michael Brady, the public policy consultant for Senate 
President Pro Tem John Burton.

Supporters estimate it will save as much as $1.5 billion in jail and 
prison expenses over the next five years.

UCLA researchers paid to evaluate the program will focus on 
re-imprisonment, relapse and employment rates of offenders, cost 
savings to taxpayers and the problems of implementing such a sweeping 
change in the criminal justice system. State lawmakers will decide 
whether to extend the program after 2005.

"It's hard to know anything until things settle down," said Doug 
Longshore, the principal investigator for UCLA. "We're shooting for 
solid answers to all the big questions at the end of year four."

Chronic Problems

Like Martinez, many people being referred to in-house treatment under 
the new California law are chronic addicts with criminal pasts.

Nearly three-fourths of Prop. 36 offenders in Riverside County were 
convicted of felonies, not misdemeanors, according to the latest 
statistics. More than half sought help for substance abuse or 
mental-health problems in the past. And half are age 35 to 54 -- not 
the age of experimental dabblers.

Prop. 36 coordinators in San Bernardino County said they see similar 
trends but have yet to compile statistics. The phenomenon is being 
reported in other California counties, raising concern that the 
pioneering drug law could jam treatment centers and cost more than 
expected in the long run.

In-house treatment in Riverside County is more than four times as 
expensive as simple drug-education classes, which are offered to the 
least-severe users.

"What we discovered, and what's been happening throughout the state, 
is many of the people need higher levels of care," said Al Bell, the 
Prop. 36 coordinator for Riverside County's Department of Mental 
Health.

More than 95 percent of the county's 782 Prop. 36 offenders from July 
1 to Nov. 15, 2001, were referred to outpatient or residential 
therapy, rather than simple drug education, Bell said.

Riverside and San Bernardino counties reported that about three in 10 
people referred to treatment fail to show up. But that's good news. 
Los Angeles County, for instance, is reporting higher no-show rates, 
state officials said.

"Historically, this population has about a 75 percent failure to 
appear rate," Bell said.

Riverside County last month took $741,000 sooner than expected from 
its $4.5 million annual treatment fund provided by the state to pay 
for more residential slots.

"We had to go back and increase our spending limits," Bell said. But 
for "right now, we're able to provide the service that we need within 
the budget that we have."

Authorities Frustrated

For some law-enforcement authorities, the first six months of Prop. 
36 has deepened their fears that hardened criminals are getting 
breaks they don't deserve.

"The law is really frustrating," said Tim Freer, a deputy district 
attorney for Riverside County in the major narcotics unit. "If people 
really knew that it was affecting people with such big prison 
records, I don't think a lot of people would be in favor of it."

Freer said Prop. 36 is largely unnecessary because existing diversion 
programs that send first-time drug offenders to education courses 
have worked well.

The new cases, Freer added, are also clogging up court calendars as 
deputy district attorneys wait for mental-health specialists to 
screen Prop. 36 offenders.

"These things slow everything down to a halt," Freer said.

For Nicole Chrismon, Prop. 36 was a ticket out of prison. Chrismon 
said she spent 2 1/2 years at the California Institution for Women in 
Chino for manufacturing meth, and was sent back after she tested 
dirty for meth use and her parole officer found a drug pipe in her 
house.

She qualified for treatment under Prop. 36 and is doing a 90-day 
stint at the Gibson House for women in San Bernardino -- a place she 
had been before but bolted two weeks before her 60-day graduation.

"I feel like I'm in the right place," said Chrismon, 33. "I'm not 
walking out this time."

On Friday, Chrismon sat in the visitor's room with fellow drug 
offender Elizabeth Millward, a 24-year-old who said she had been 
arrested at least nine times on drug-related charges. Millward also 
qualified for treatment under Prop. 36.

Millward said she faced four years in prison after the police, who 
had come to arrest her for violating an earlier drug-diversion 
agreement, chased her down with a helicopter spotlight as she ran 
through neighbors' yards breaking fences. She was charged with 
possession, under the influence and having drug paraphernalia. 
Millward said her drug use worsened after her mother died three years 
ago. Her father died in February.

"I'm learning to deal with issues that trigger me to use," Millward 
said, a photograph of her 6-year-old son dangling from her neck. "I 
think Prop. 36 is a lifesaver."

Worries Not Confirmed

Early on, Jack Ketsdever, president of the California Association of 
Addiction Recovery Resources, said he was skeptical about the law. He 
worried that people forced into treatment would rebel and spoil the 
atmosphere for those earnestly seeking sobriety.

"But it hasn't been the case," said Ketsdever, who is also the 
executive director of Riverside Recovery Resources. The agency runs 
several treatment programs in Riverside County, including the one 
Rodney Martinez attended. "I've seen some dramatic turnarounds. I 
mean hard-core offenders. People who have been doing this for years. 
Tough guys."

Ketsdever said Martinez is a case in point. When Martinez arrived for 
treatment in Hemet, Ketsdever harbored little hope for the long-time 
gang member.

"I wouldn't have given him a snowball's chance in hell," Ketsdever said.

Today, "Rodney is an absolute walking, talking miracle."

For Martinez, Prop. 36 seems to have provided a turning point. In 
prison during most of the 1990s for drug-related crimes, Martinez 
said he was never offered treatment until Prop. 36 was launched in 
July.

A mental-health counselor recommended that Martinez take 
drug-education classes, he said, but he continued to use. A few days 
later, Martinez said, he came clean and was sent to the First Step 
House in Hemet for 90 days. He graduated three months ago.

Martinez landed a full-time job with an RV company in Perris three 
days later. He attends support groups regularly and returns to the 
First Step House to counsel newcomers. He celebrated six months of 
sobriety Friday -- his longest drug-free period since he was 15, he 
said.

He also is trying to repair his relationship with his girlfriend, the 
mother of his 6-year-old son.

"My son told me yesterday, 'Dad, I like you. You're not the way you 
used to be,' " he said.
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