COURT TEMPERS JUSTICE WITH COMPASSION

Offenders Get Treatment Instead Of Jail

When defendants show up even when they don't have to, you know you're
in a different kind of courtroom.

"James? Why are you here?" asks Judge Tari Eitzen, who presides over
Spokane County's drug court.

"I missed you," the young man calls out from his seat in the
courtroom, provoking laughs from others in attendance.

"I was hoping to talk to you when you're done."

James hints things aren't going so well, but Eitzen stays positive,
congratulating him and leading a round of applause at news he's
approaching nine months of sobriety.

There are 120 defendants on Eitzen's docket at any given time. All of
them get a pocket calendar to write down court appearances,
court-ordered urine tests and treatment appointments when they first
arrive.

At the front of the courtroom, there's a basket of stuffed animals for
defendants' kids. Nearby, there's a "lending library" stocked with
paperbacks donated by court staff, eager to encourage healthy habits
such as reading.

If defendants finish the program, they'll get applause, praise and
encouragement from Eitzen along the way.

When they graduate, she'll even give them a hug.

There are consequences for those who slip, ranging from having to
write an

essay, picking up litter on a work crew, to spending time behind bars
in a minimum-security facility.

Jail is where many who are kicked out of drug court end up; when
defendants are accepted into the program, they have already admitted
the facts in their case and waived their trial. Flunking out is as
good as a conviction.

Eitzen is understanding when addicts relapse -- she urges one woman
not to skip her urinalysis even if it means testing positive -- but
slackers don't get a free ride.

"Do you want treatment, or do you not want treatment? I'll give you a
week to prove that to me," Eitzen tells one woman who has missed all
but one appointment: a positive drug test.

As she sends the defendant on her way with a new court date, Eitzen
notices the woman has a young child with her.

"Is that your baby?" she asks. "You owe it to her."

Another defendant, a 21-year-old meth addict named Holly, appears
before Eitzen after a month in custody -- and an attitude adjustment.

"This is your fresh start. All your (work crew) hours are done, though
it was sort of a hard way to do them," Eitzen says.

Holly was in danger of being terminated from drug court and says she's
grateful Eitzen gave her another chance.

"(Getting terminated) would have put me in jail for three to six
years. This was my wake-up call," she says outside court.

"Judge Eitzen genuinely cares about people. This is like a saving
grace. It's an unbelievable program, and I'm glad to be a part of it."