Coronavirus in Oklahoma: Drug court changing with the times

BARTLESVILLE — It sounds shady, drug offenders meeting their connection in a park. But for Washington County Associate District Judge Russell Vaclaw, it has become the new normal.

Vaclaw, who oversees the county's drug court program, now meets with about 50 participants every Monday in Johnstone Park. They pull up in their cars and each spend about five minutes updating the judge on their recovery while maintaining a safe distance.

"We have them line up and wait their turn," he told The Oklahoman. "Much like a Chick-fil-A drive through. We wave them on, one car at a time."

With courthouses across Oklahoma closed to the public during the COVID-19 crisis, judges who oversee drug court and other prison diversion programs have been forced to get creative to maintain regular contact.

"They need accountability. They need to know that we're there to address their needs," Vaclaw said. "When they come in each week we find out what's going on in their lives, if they're struggling with their addiction, if they have rehab needs."

Weekly courtroom meetings in other counties have been replaced by video conferences and phone calls. In Cleveland County, District Judge Michael Tupper keeps busy working the phones.

"These phone calls are essentially their court appearances for the week," said Tupper, who oversees about 100 drug court participants. "We discuss any issues or problems they may be going through. We talk about their recovery and I communicate expectations with them over the next seven days.

"They're very up front and very honest with me. We we have very meaningful, frank conversations. Some are struggling, without a doubt. They were struggling before this pandemic."

About 4,000 active drug court participants in Oklahoma receive treatment, counseling, drug testing and other services as an alternative to prison. In 2019, 126 people graduated from the Oklahoma County program, which now has about 450 participants and an 85% graduation rate.

District Judge Kenneth Stoner oversees the Oklahoma County drug court program, which is planning to reduce the frequency of random drug tests and suspend sanctions for program violations.

"It's been a real struggle, but so far we’ve been able to operate a modified version," Stoner said. "The main thing is it’s all happening virtually. We're not seeing them in person."

Stoner said between 20% and 30% of participants have lost their jobs because of the coronavirus. The added level of anxiety can make it difficult to stay sober, he said.

"I’m very concerned," he said. "We’re accustomed to dealing with relapse, but we’re not accustomed to dealing with relapse on this scale without all of our normal tools we have available."

Participants are still receiving treatment and meeting with counselors, only they're doing so by phone or computer. They still check in with probation officers. Stoner is rolling out a texting platform that allows him to reach all participants at once. He plans to produce YouTube videos and will text program announcements, encouragement and recognition. "Drug court is a process of sharing stories, sharing accomplishments," he said.

In-person meetings with peers, therapists and doctors are now delivered through video and phone conferences, Tupper said.

"We're working our way through it. It's definitely been an adjustment," he said. "We're providing guidance for them, we're helping them navigate their way and we’re trying to assist them in their continued recovery."

The program typically lasts between 18 and 24 months. A participant could remain in the program longer due to setbacks, such as failing drug tests or missing court.

Michael McGee, 32, who graduated this week from the Cleveland County drug court program, participated in an online ceremony along with members of his family.

It took McGee four years to complete the program because "I had periods where I would do really well and then I would have a setback."

McGee said he preferred the online ceremony, which Tupper officiated, because it allowed him to read his petition for graduation without being distracted by a courtroom full of people.

"I didn’t even hold it together in front of my family," he said. "I felt like it was more personal."