|
||||||||
|
From serving time to rebuilding lives
By CARRIE JOHNSON, Times Staff Writer
INVERNESS -- Cowering in a cell at Zephyrhills Correctional Institute, Ray Cox knew something had to change. He had been convicted of driving under the influence-manslaughter in 1984 after he was involved in a car wreck that killed two people. Sentenced to house arrest, he was thrown into the Pasco County prison in 1989 to serve the remainder of his eight-year probation after he was accused of driving drunk while still on probation. His roommate, a hulking thug serving 15 years for robbery, was threatening to recruit people in the prison yard to abuse Cox. Like many other inmates, Cox vowed to turn his life around. Unlike most, Cox really did. He kicked his addiction to alcohol and earned a degree in psychology. He joined a church, got married and had two daughters. And in 2000, Cox started the court alternatives program in Citrus County and built a successful drug court operation. Earlier this month, the program held its third graduation celebration. The keynote speaker was James McDonough, the state's drug czar. Now Cox, 42, is moving on. In July, his wife accepted a position with a pharmaceutical company in Wilmington, N.C., and he is moving north to join her. His final day is Wednesday. "It's not easy to leave," Cox said. "I've really poured my whole life into this." 'Heart and soul' of drug courtPeople who have worked with Cox tend to use words like "tireless" and "devoted" when describing him. At the recent drug court graduation ceremony, Circuit Judge Patricia Thomas, who presides over the program, called Cox the "heart and soul" of the program. "We really don't know what we're going to do without him," she told the crowd. Cox was a counselor for Marion-Citrus Mental Health, one of the nonprofit groups that provided treatment to people in the Marion Drug Court, when he was tapped to start the court alternatives program in Citrus. The county's adult drug court was launched in June 2000. The program is for nonviolent drug offenders who agree to submit to the rigorous 18-month program. The pace is intense: Participants must attend two-hour group counseling sessions three times a week during the first two months of drug court. They submit to urine tests twice a week and are subjected to other random drug tests. If the participants continue to test drug-free, the tests and group counseling sessions gradually decrease as they progress through two 22-week stages. The participants must enter a 12-step program through either Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous, and they pay $25 a week throughout the first year, picking up part of the cost for their counseling. It's tough, but the potential payoff is enormous: If participants are successful, charges against them are dropped. And, for many, it's a rare opportunity to kick their addictions. "We're creating miracles every day," Cox said. "Each day that one of them spends drug free is a miracle." In June 2001, Cox helped secure a $400,000 federal grant to launch a juvenile drug court, which is modeled on the adult program. While the members of his staff know about Cox's battle with alcohol and his time behind bars, it's not something he reveals to the drug court participants. "Their treatment is not about me," Cox said. "I'm there for the client. It's not important what I've been through as far as the counseling relationship goes." But it was his experience with addiction -- both his and that of other members of his family -- that steered him on his current course. The bumpy road to a turning pointCox grew up in St. Petersburg. After graduating from high school, he attended Nashville Auto Diesel College in Tennessee, where he learned how to become an auto mechanic. After a year working at a St. Petersburg auto dealership, Cox decided that he was wasting his life and enlisted in the U.S. Army. He was stationed at Fort Campbell, Ky., where he became a member of the 101st Airborne Division and a military police officer. It was there that Cox developed a taste for alcohol. "I was a functioning alcoholic," he said. "I never missed work, and I would never come to work with a hangover. I recognized I had a dangerous job." He continued to drink heavily after leaving the military. And on a chilly March night, his life took a tragic turn. Cox and his brother had spent the day mud-bogging -- using a four-wheel drive truck to drive through mud soaked areas -- in St. Petersburg to celebrate his brother's entry into the military. The brothers had been drinking beer throughout the day, Cox said. They became separated, and Cox went searching for his sibling. While driving on 49th Street at the U.S. 19 approach, a car pulled in front of Cox's truck. Two passengers -- visitors from Wolfeboro, N.H. -- were killed in the crash. The driver of the car, Scott Buckle, was found to have a blood alcohol level of 0.29, enough "to get three people drunk," a prosecuting attorney said during Buckle's January 1985 trial. But Cox also was assumed to have been impaired by alcohol, according to court records. His blood alcohol level was 0.10, above the 0.08 limit at which a person is presumed impaired in Florida. He was judged culpable for the crash and sentenced to two years of house arrest, eight years of probation, 1,000 hours of community service and loss of driving privileges for five years. Cox completed the house arrest and the community service. He was midway through his probation when he was arrested for driving under the influence. He was thrown into prison to complete the rest of his sentence. It was there he had the religious awakening that transformed his life. "That's how I was able to turn it all around," he said. "The changes started immediately." Cox was also enrolled at Operation PAR, a drug treatment center in Largo. He completed the program and later worked at the center. Overcoming his dependance on alcohol was the most difficult thing he had ever been asked to do. "But I never have to do it again," Cox said. "Whenever you have to look at yourself and make changes, it's very, very hard. But it's also very rewarding." It took him seven years, but he earned his degree in psychology from Nova Southeastern University and devoted himself to the treatment of others who were struggling to overcome addictions. Leaving future in God's handsCox isn't sure what his next step will be. He plans to get involved with the local drug court in Wilmington, but he hasn't landed a job yet. His ultimate goal is to set up a drug court system in the military, to help young soldiers like him who succumb to the temptation of drugs or alcohol while on base. Cox said he would also like to go back to school, earn a doctorate and become a licensed psychologist. While it's difficult to leave his friends and co-workers in Citrus County, Cox said he's ready for whatever the future may bring. "I really don't know what God's got in store for me," he said. "But I'm sure it's great. And I'm excited." -- Carrie Johnson can be reached at 860-7309 or cjohnson@sptimes.com . © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
490 First Avenue South St. Petersburg, FL 33701 727-893-8111
|
Citrus Times |
![]()