By Krystal Smalley
ksmalley@wbcowqel.com
The cloudy afternoon only served as a snapshot of their lives.
Tony Evans, the veteran with a goatee and white ball cap, slightly older than those around him. Alyssa Hayman, fresh-faced with big blue eyes, freckles, and long dark hair, easily talking to those gathered. Brooke Castle, quiet and tiny, seeming to barely top five feet, and Kristi Kitts with her baby in her arms and her daughter by her side.
Each one’s life was different, but one thing led them to sitting underneath a pavilion in Aumiller Park on a Friday afternoon, dishes of hot and cold food spread across picnic tables: their ISAT graduation.
Evans, Hayman, Castle, and Kitts all went before Crawford County Common Pleas Court Judge Sean Leuthold in 2015 and were placed in his Intensive Supervision and Treatment program, commonly referred to as ISAT. The program is only for addicts that show signs of interest in recovery. It’s a select group, hand-picked mostly by Leuthold, and geared toward younger people, though Evans, at 48, is the outlier in this instance.
When Leuthold took the bench in 2015, he had zero confidence in the local drug court funded by the state. The program was set up for the judge to have a hands-off approach when it came to addicts and, according to Leuthold, the consequences for failure were mild at best.
That is a drastic difference to Leuthold’s ISAT program, which has gained notoriety for meaning “I sat my butt in prison because I couldn’t do what Judge Leuthold said.”
Since taking over, Leuthold has turned ISAT, which no longer receives state money, into a self-funded program, oftentimes with the judge or Maryhaven volunteers pulling money from their own pockets to pay for things. Of the 26 people enrolled in the program now, roughly 50 percent are employed somewhere. The individuals are drug-tested constantly and are taught responsibility, whether that means getting your G.E.D., working to get your driver’s license reinstated, or applying for a job. ISAT also offers medically-assisted treatment, though only one person in the program is using that option. The program also carries almost a 60 percent success rate.
The difference between the two programs is like night and day – but don’t call Leuthold’s program a drug court.
“I hate the name drug court. I think it’s a misnomer,” Leuthold said. “It sends the wrong message to the community – that we give people with addiction special treatment.”
In fact, there is no preferential treatment. Leuthold treats everyone in the program the same. If you test positive – which 25 percent of the former drug court participants did when Leuthold took over – you are handcuffed in front of your fellow members and taken to jail.
“Our program, which is very strict, very unforgiving, very tough, has yielded good results,” Leuthold said. “There’s no hiding failure. I think that’s very important.
“You either graduate and you’re a success or you fail and go to prison. There’s no in-between,” Leuthold stated.
Those good results are in the faces of Evans and Kitts and Castle and Hayman, four of the five people who graduated from the program. Christopher Fawley, who was working on the day of the picnic, rounded out the group. Friday was the one day that the graduates could celebrate their sobriety; after that, it was back to the grindstone of maintaining sobriety.
Leuthold put it like this: those who achieve graduation in ISAT only brought their selves right back up to where they were supposed to be in the first place.
That sentiment seemed to hit Evans right in the heart. He joined the program late in 2015 and is already graduating from it, something that takes most participants a year to do. Though he was doing all the right things before landing in ISAT – high-end job, good father, good family – he said he was still doing everything wrong.
“I was like the opiate poster child,” Evans, whose addiction came about from painkillers prescribed to him after surgeries, explained. “In my mind I was like ‘this is the way it is and that’s ok because the doctor said so.’ Reality is it’s just a downward spiral that just keeps getting lower and lower and lower. I had 20 years plus to deal with it. To get to my age and figure it out is tough. I don’t know how much further past this I would have been because of how high my tolerance and duration was. I’m glad I am free of all the addiction and downward spiral and all that. I almost feel in a way . . . they saved my life in doing this.”
Both Evans and Hayman emphasized that their support network does not kick them out just because they graduated. When they need the help, it’ll be there.
“I think all the counselors are great because they’re passionate. They’re truly into what they do. They should get awards for it, but they don’t,” Evans said.
“If you have a problem, you just go to them and talk to them,” Hayman added. “They’re completely willing to help you with anything you have a problem with. They’re not just like, ‘oh, it’s your problem, deal with it.’ They’re more than willing to help you do anything.”
Hayman’s route to addiction was a different one than Evans’, but their reaction to showing up to their first ISAT meeting was very similar.
“You’re afraid to say anything because you’re already buried. You don’t want to bury yourself any deeper,” Evans explained. “After several classes, you finally start to loosen up and you finally start to gain ground. You brought it out in the open and now you’re dealing with it instead of constantly hiding behind a wall . . . When I first started this program, I was so quiet and withdrawn and ashamed of my situation that I wouldn’t speak to nobody about it. Now I don’t have any barriers.”
Hayman said she was nervous and had no clue what she was getting into, but she credited the small group size for making her feel more comfortable and giving her the ability to open up.
Evans, who is fond of using analogies, said people often want to walk through the courtroom doors with one foot holding it open, ready to go back to their way of life on a second’s notice. But that is not how ISAT works.
“You pretty much have to walk through the door and let the door shut and be committed to what you’re doing,” Evans said. “Once you see the progress, you feel the progress, then people see the progress. It’s a continual upboost for you to keep going. The better you feel and the more you overcome and the further you get, the greater you feel.”
“The more motivation you have,” Hayman added.
It took Evans a while to find the right words to explain that feeling.
“It started off good,” Evans said about first becoming addicted. “I maintained it with the best composure and dignity you could for the longest time. Then it finally caught up to me where I no longer had power over it – it had power over me.”
Now, it’s vastly different for Evans. Leuthold even noted how happy Evans has been since becoming sober and completing ISAT.
“I feel healthy, I feel great,” Evans said. “I got my health back, I got my family back – pretty much got my life back, you know? You feel gifted or blessed to get that after everything you’ve been through.”
“I’ve been through a lot,” said Hayman. “I was going to school, I was going to college, but I was not doing well. I got mixed in with the wrong people, started doing the wrong things. I’m glad it happened when it did because who knows where it could have led to. Like I said, I’m young, I still have a chance to go back to school. I’m ready to start my life over, but there for a while, I didn’t know what could have happened. When you live in addiction, there’s no guarantee there’s going to be a tomorrow. It’s scary, but I am really glad it happened. It helped me turn my life around, back on the right track.”
“This program saved my life,” said Fawley, who became addicted after being on painkillers when he blew out his knee. “It’s humbled me as a person. I still have a long way to go.”
When there was no question that Fawley became an addict, he said that people would look down on him, but the counselors gave him hope. They challenged him to open up, which he says has been the most beneficial for him. He thanked Leuthold, Maryhaven, and everyone in ISAT for the help they offered him.
“I am for the first time in my life truly happy,” Fawley said.
Castle pulled no punches when stating her opinion of ISAT.
“Actually, the judge says it’s not a celebration even after you graduate. He’s says it’s hard work – and it is. It’s going to be hard work for the rest of our lives,” she said. “I’m actually grateful for it now. I wasn’t in the beginning, but I am now.”
Kitts credited the structure and goals the program offered for her ability to stay clean.
“It’s great. Maybe without this program I’d be in prison for some of the bad mistakes I have made. It’s good. I’m home with the kids every day,” Kitts said. “That’s my number one priority right now – it’s my kids.”
As with any get-together at the Aumiller Park pavilions, groups started drifting away after plates were filled with food and the meals eaten. Some found a nice quiet spot at another pavilion while children grabbed a few of the toys someone brought and started playing in the shaded grass. Throughout it all, however, the ISAT participants – whether they were graduates or not – mingled with each other and some of those that helped turn their lives around: Judge Sean Leuthold, Maryhaven counselors Paula Brown and Stephanie Davis, and Adult Parole Officer Dan Wurm.