New program gives young drug addicts a chance to restore their lives

The defendants, ages 18 to 24, are struggling drug addicts, who by all accounts should be dead from the heroin, cocaine, crystal meth and prescription medicine that once flowed through their veins.

Most have failed every other recovery program the system offers.

But today they are alive and taking life one day at a time in a yearlong recovery program in the Las Vegas Municipal Court called Youth Offender Court. The program began in April.

Defendants don’t enter the program because of drug convictions. Many arrive in the affectionately nicknamed "YO Court" after failing to pay their traffic fines because they decide to buy drugs instead. Judges handling their cases hear that Kerns’ program seems to be working and send the offenders upstairs to him.

"We consider this a treatment program," Kerns said. "It’s got the criminal aspect to it. It’s, in essence, more rehabilitation and treatment rather than punitive sanction, but it can be if they don’t do what they need to do. It’s treatment for the families, too, not only for the defendant."

More importantly, it’s a way to get drug addicts into a recovery program at an earlier age.

The 20 or so offenders meet with the judge every other Thursday. Kerns takes a stern "tough love" approach with the young offenders he treats like his own children, at times rewarding them with a McDonald’s breakfast when they finish a community service project.

"I truly believe they know I care about their success, but they also know I won’t play around if they’re playing around," Kerns said. "They see me as an authority figure, and they want to test me. I’m here, and I’ll do what I can to get you to succeed, but if you cross the line there will be consequences."

Kerns spent years focused on criminal defense and domestic law while in his own private practice before being elected to Las Vegas Municipal Court in 1997. He helped create H.O.P.E. Court, which focuses on older habitual offenders.

He launched the specialized YO Court in hopes of reaching younger offenders.

The program is one of the most unusual statewide, and Kerns’ involvement with his defendants is rare, said Judge Jackie Glass, who deals mostly with specialty court programs in District Court.

"I’ve not heard of this level of involvement before," Glass said. "We’re fortunate to have programs like these; otherwise these people would be in our jails and prisons. Anything that the courts can do to intervene and give folks the tools to change their lives is a wonderful thing."

Kerns is surrounded by a team of professionals who know what the defendants are going through. The core team includes the prosecutor, defense lawyer Steven Altig, who is recovering from a methamphetamine addiction, case manager Greg Walls, who also is a recovering addict, and Kim Townsend-LaFasto, the court’s lead caseworker, who Kerns describes as his right-hand woman.

"We discuss the cases and how to approach them appropriately as a team," Kerns said. "If we can’t come to a conclusion, I am always the final word."

Kerns does not hesitate to put the offenders in handcuffs and send them to jail if they fail a random drug test, don’t complete homework from support group meetings, refuse to attend mandatory community service projects and don’t pay their legal fees, among other requirements.

"I don’t feel like his defendant," said Sarah Lang, who is a recovering heroin addict. "I feel like his child. When I go stand in front of him, I feel like I’m standing in front of my dad, and my father is disappointed in what I’ve done."

As she sits in a sober-living home, the 24-year-old reflects on the time she has spent in Kerns’ courtroom because of her struggle with drugs. Lang, who is in court for traffic tickets, is recovering from a drug addiction to heroin but has also used cocaine, prescription pills and marijuana.

She has been abusing drugs since she was 13 years old and has overdosed more than once. In the last five years, she has spent more than $350,000 on drugs.

"I wasn’t using to get high. I was using so I could function," Lang said. "I was so physically sick I couldn’t get out of bed unless I was buying drugs. I would prebuy them the day before, so I’d have them for the next day."

Now, Lang is considered a poster child of the program with more than 150 days sober. She works as a waitress and helps others get acquainted with the program.

She used to spend her time shooting up heroin, "not knowing if that drug was going to be the last one."

"I’ve played with death on so many occasions, that’s why I truly believe I have a purpose," Lang said. "There’s been so many times that I should not have woken up. If it wasn’t for Judge Kerns, I wouldn’t have had a second chance."

In the courtroom, the defendants are smiling, and seem happy to be addressing Kerns about how many days they have been sober, how far along they are in the recovery process and whether they are job hunting or already working.

Most of them sit in the audience with their families and friends in the court program. They nervously whisper among themselves about getting their tracking ankle bracelets taken off and who might be going to jail that week. They openly joke with the prosecutor and the marshal before court begins.

Then the defendants are quickly reminded of what will happen when they don’t complete court requirements.

The ones who have disobeyed come plodding into the courtroom clad in orange inmate jumpsuits. They are handcuffed and shackled with ankle chains that clang when they walk. A heavy silence hangs over the courtroom when they walk out.

They’re the ones who didn’t listen to Kerns.

"They know if they go to jail, they’ve earned it," Kerns said. "They earn their freedom, and they earn their punishment. I don’t treat them all equally, I treat them all fairly. Some have fried their brains more than others. Some of them are in different stages of addiction, and you have to treat those differently."

Jack Armstrong’s addiction to Xanax, OxyContin and other prescription pills began when he was partying as a senior in high school. The 19-year-old bribed a local doctor to write him a fake prescription.

Armstrong was brought to YO Court for an unpaid ticket for reckless driving. He stopped making payments in order to feed his addiction, and a warrant was issued for his arrest.

"I took the choice to get into this program for the help I obviously need," Armstrong said. "The reason I took the program was because of my mom. She was in court with me, and I saw it in her eyes, like, ‘Please just answer my prayers and get in the program.’ "

Armstrong ran away from the program in June and hid at a friend’s house after testing dirty. His mother, Connie Graham, found him. He turned himself in shortly thereafter.

Graham said she got her best night’s sleep knowing her son was finally safe in jail. Now he lives in a halfway house in a rough part of town with other recovering addicts.

"I don’t wonder where he’s at and wonder if he’s dead," Graham said. "I was at the end of my rope, and I needed some help. I never knew it was so bad. I had never dealt with this before. I was hoping for them to incarcerate him. It was very hard to see him like this."

As part of her son’s treatment, Graham attended sessions at the Las Vegas Recovery Center so she could understand the psychology behind drug use and the damage it causes.

"You talk to them, and you’re yelling at them, asking them if they love the drug more than you," she said. "They do love you. You have to understand the monster you’re dealing with. You do blame yourself — every parent does."

Graham said their relationship has been very strained.

"The parents have been disappointed so many times with the broken promises. The, ‘I’m gonna quit. I’m gonna stop.’ After a while you don’t believe it because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every day sober for them is a struggle. You cry with them, you feel bad and you express your emotions to them. But you never, ever give up on them."

For now, Armstrong just wants to successfully recover from his drug habit.

"You have to do it when you’re ready," he said. "It wasn’t until I got into the program that I thought my addiction could be dangerous to my health or that I could potentially die."

Armstrong said his faith gives him hope about his recovery.

"No one is perfect," he said. "You can’t go through life without sinning. Making mistakes is when you learn. My relapse, I wouldn’t take back at all. I learned from it. The jail time, either."

Graham formed a strong bond with Kerns, as most of the parents do. He understood her struggle and could help deal with Armstrong. At first, the partnership upset her son.

"She would speak so highly of this man, and I was resentful," he said. "It was like, ‘He locked up your son. How can you do that?’ But really, I have to look at it as I locked myself up."

Armstrong now views the criminal justice system differently.

"I’ve never been a fan of the law, but I hold the courts and law enforcement in a higher place than I did before. If they see you’re improving and trying, they won’t be unfair to you."

Emily Hoeffner, who is less than two months sober, almost lost her chance at recovery last week when she was arrested for failing to complete the tasks the judge had assigned. Her shackles clanged as she shuffled to the podium in a bright orange inmate jumpsuit. It was her second time being arrested for the same reason this month.

This was a person who at one point had begged Kerns for a tracking device on her ankle so she could stay sober.

"Emily, I don’t want you in the program," Kerns told her. "I think you’re messing with me."

Rather than pass judgment on the situation, he invited the girls living with Hoeffner in her sober-living home to make the decision as to whether she should stay in the YO Court Program.

The girls sent Lang to the podium to discuss the case with the judge.

He asked Lang how she would handle Hoeffner in his position.

"You were frustrated with me not too long ago," Lang said. "You didn’t want me here, but I’ve changed. I talked to her while she was in custody before court, and we’ll help her as much as we can if she wants it. And I think she wants it."

A dejected Hoeffner sat on the bench with her shoulders slumped and her head down.

"I want you to focus on yourself; but you’re doing so well, I don’t mind if you take her under your wing," Kerns told Lang.

The judge turned his attention to Hoeffner: "Man, you are one lucky girl. You’ve got people sticking their necks out for you. I’m going to keep you in the program, but I think I’m making the wrong decision. You can still prove me wrong."

Hoeffner, a 19-year-old recovering heroin addict, was remanded previously for failing to hunt for a job and complete a community service project. She spent Labor Day weekend in jail.

She said it was her own fault.

"It doesn’t matter if he sends me to jail," Hoeffner said. "He’s just trying to help. That’s why I’m not pissed about going to jail. I know what I did, and I know what I didn’t do. I’m trying to be accountable for my actions. He has probably saved my life."

It wasn’t that long ago Hoeffner was robbing her own drug dealer at gunpoint. She pointed her father’s Glock pistol at the man, whom she said she visited often enough to know he didn’t carry a weapon.

"You really don’t think you can rob somebody, but it’s not really all that hard when you’re addicted to something," Hoeffner said.

Today, the sweats, shakes and muscle cramps are lessening as her body clears out the drugs. The nausea has subsided.

Now, the recovery is focused on dealing with her emotions, usually anger or depression, that she spent years numbing.

"That’s why I’m glad I’m clean today, so I don’t have to wake up every morning feeling like I want to die," Hoeffner said. "Since I’ve been a teenager, it’s been messed up. My teenage years are gone. They all got blown away by drugs. I felt like a zombie."

But Hoeffner said she still views YO Court as a way to redeem herself and take back her life if she can complete the program.

"Some people don’t get another chance," she said. "They either OD, lose everything, end up on the streets or end up in prison. I get another chance."

Contact Kristi Jourdan at kjourdan @reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0279.