By Samira Jafari
Associated Press Writer

MONTGOMERY — At 16, Kimberly Hudson was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but her doctor would not medicate her because of her age. The next few years were a nightmare of mood swings that Hudson tempered with a mix of marijuana and cocaine, until drug and theft charges landed her in court.

"I was just being a heathen, doing whatever you can to get your drugs," she said.

But Circuit Judge Tracy McCooey realized that jail time would do little for the teenager. Instead, she put Hudson on five years' probation and ordered a regimen of counseling, proper medications and private meetings at 7 p.m. every Monday on the steps of the Montgomery County courthouse. McCooey called it her personal "mental health court."

Last month, Hudson was released two years early from her probation and is now a university student, training to be an accountant. Her success has helped spur the founding of McCooey's formal mental health court, one of five in Alabama and some 90 nationwide that offer an alternative approach to sentencing offenders with mental illnesses.

"That day in court I could have said, 'Here you go, here's your jail sentence,' " McCooey said. "But you've got to go beyond."

The mental health court concept was pioneered in Broward County, Fla., and modeled after the more than 500 drug courts nationwide that offer substance abuse counseling over jail time, according to the Bureau of Justice Assistance, which evaluates candidates for federal mental health court grants.

Who's applicable

The mental health courts in Montgomery and Jefferson counties accept mentally ill defendants who are charged with felonies, while the ones in Madison County help those charged with misdemeanors. All work only with nonviolent, non-sex offenders who have been prescreened and diagnosed by a state mental health expert who weeds out any so-called "fakers" looking to avoid jail time.

The purpose of the programs is to divert mentally ill offenders from an overcrowded prison system, which does little to prevent further offenses and offer treatment, said Circuit Judge Mac Parsons, who oversees the mental health court in Bessemer.

The trick — and the biggest challenge reported by mental health officials — is targeting potential candidates as early as possible for the program to be truly successful, according to a Bureau of Justice Assistance report on mental health courts. It said early intervention avoids "the damaging experience of arrest and confinement" while helping to stabilize the offender medically and provide support.

In some courts, like Huntsville's, the mental health programs divert eligible offenders from prosecution, while in others, like McCooey's, the offenders are prosecuted and the mental health treatment is an alternative sentence. Prosecutors and victims must also be on board in cases where the defendant is diverted from prosecution.

Noncompliance

As with any court, there are consequences for noncompliance. Defendants are expected to stick to their ordered treatment of prescriptions, counseling and, sometimes, substance abuse prevention courses. If they don't, "then they have to go to prison," McCooey said.

The mental health dockets for the courts are relatively low — less than a dozen a month for the Alabama courts. But the judges report a high success rate with only a handful returning to the program or ending up in jail.

Most of the offenders are not taking or never received medication to treat mental disorders, typically variations of bipolar disorder, schizophrenia or both. "They don't think clearly" and act impulsively, said Municipal Judge Cybil Cleveland, who runs the mental health court in Huntsville.

Shoplifting, trespassing, disorderly conduct, break-ins and drug abuse are the most common cases coming before the mental health court.

After the defendants are approved for the program, they are placed on probation while they take prescription anti-psychotic medications and check-in almost daily with counselors and every week or two with the judges.

"It's a real intense supervision program," Parsons said. "I don't want to believe we put people in jail whose basic problem is that they're sick."

It takes a lot of cooperation from counselors, prosecutors, families — and especially the defendants. Also, the Alabama programs are only about a year old, meaning they are still working out glitches, such as funding and staffing shortages, tracking down homeless defendants, and making sure the participants take their medications and continue counseling.

But officials in the program said the results are worth the extra hours and money issues.

Ruth Karr watched her daughter, Patty, battle bipolar schizoaffective disorder for more than 30 years. Misdiagnosed several times, the daughter made poor decisions, such as accompanying her boyfriend in a break-in, and landed in jail. She finally was given proper treatment and responded well in the final years of her life.

Karr, a member of the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill, said her daughter's suffering took a toll on family members, who didn't know much about the disorder or how to help with it.

Now, Karr works as a family counselor for the Huntsville mental health court, serving as a liaison between the court, the offenders and their families.

"I empathize. They think 'It only happens in my family and I should have been able to prevent this,' " Karr said. "I try to make them comfortable. . . . If you understand this is caused by a breakdown in how their brain works, you'll be able to help them."

Copyright 2005 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

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