A FISHERMAN’S COMPLAINT

Three years ago, a local fisherman and boat builder stood up at a Southwest Harbor selectmen’s meeting and demanded that something be done about rampant drug abuse in the area. Weldon “Bunny” Leonard told of drug dealers operating openly around his boatyard and hypodermic needles littering the streets. He accused the selectmen and the town police of failing to take the matter seriously.

Mr. Leonard’s outburst drew support from other townspeople. A retired physician, Dr. Richard C. Dimond, who happened to be sitting right behind him, joined with others in organizing a community forum three weeks later, with drug enforcement officials from Augusta taking part. Dr. Dimond later met with Hancock County District Attorney Michael Povich. They quickly formed a 19-member steering committee, and plans began for creation of a Hancock County drug court, which would offer selected drug offenders a chance to plead guilty in return for conditional probation and a year of treatment, supervision and counseling.

As a result, Hancock County now is about to join Penobscot, Washington and three southern Maine counties in having its own drug court – but with a difference. The drug scene in Hancock County is probably as bad as anywhere else in the state, but funds were lacking for regular drug court, with a sitting judge presiding for about a half day a week. So Hancock County is finding grant funds, private contributions and volunteer labor to start up a “virtual” drug court.

It will work much the same as the governmental drug courts in other counties, except for the financing and the fact that, instead of a sitting judge, it will have the volunteered services of a retired judge, Justice Paul T. Pierson, who served on the Superior Court in Bucksport.

In his 31 years as a prosecutor, Mr. Povich has come a long way from the time when he used to celebrate a conviction as a victory. Now, he says that, just as war is a failure of diplomacy, prison is a failure of society to take care of a problem. And prison carries a public cost: $30,000 a year to house one prisoner.

Mr. Povich wants to see the project start by accepting applicants who seem to have a good chance of completing its course. That means hard work, which may seem worse than serving a short jail term. It includes living under a curfew, showing up regularly for treatment, participating in counseling, submitting to random drug testing, and meeting every two weeks with an evaluating team of prosecutors, treatment specialists, and probation officers. Failing a drug test is serious, but failures are bound to happen and may be punished by a jail term. Lying and failure to appear for treatment are worse and can mean expulsion from the program.

A 50 percent success rate would match the state’s preliminary figure for the five regular adult drug courts. But wouldn’t even a perfect success rate be a drop in the bucket, considering the number of addicts? Mr. Povich responds that each success can be a community example that can persuade others that there is a way out of drug dependency. One success in breaking the habit may change the lives of friends or family members.

In Southwest Harbor, Bunny Leonard feels a degree of satisfaction but still says the politicians should care enough to finance the court the way other counties do.