WOODLAND — For years, Jesse Fiero considered the Yolo County Courthouse a dark place — a revolving door of punishment for crimes brought on by his homelessness, drug and alcohol addiction, and depression that had gone untreated.
“I had given up on myself a long time ago. The only thing keeping me going was the next high or the next drunk,” said Fiero, 36, who spent a decade living on the streets of Davis. “I always had an attitude that I was innocent, that I was arrested all the time because I was homeless.”
But that same courthouse was a scene of celebration one recent Monday as Fiero became the second person to graduate from Yolo County’s mental health court, a nearly 3-year-old program that seeks to treat defendants’ mental illnesses and reduce or eliminate their chances of reoffending.
One by one, the attorneys and court officials who run the specialty court marveled at Fiero’s accomplishments over the past 18 months. Not only did he achieve sobriety and successfully treat his depression, but he also secured stable housing, maintained healthy relationships, completed truck-driving school and earned his commercial driver’s license.
A new job awaited him at a local building-supply business.
“This is what we look forward to,” said Yolo Superior Court Judge Janet Gaard, who presides over the mental-health court calendar. “I feel like my heart’s going to explode.”
Watching proudly from the courtroom audience was Dennis Cortopassi, the program’s first-ever graduate, who had received similar accolades at his graduation ceremony several weeks earlier.
“I’m kind of glad that I went first, because you would be a hard act to follow,” Cortopassi, who completed mental health court in just over two years, told Fiero. “It’s different for different people. The main thing is to learn from this and graduate so you can live a normal life.”
Jail, prison alternative
Efforts to establish a mental health court began in early 2012 as attorneys, probation officers and social service providers sought an alternative to incarceration for defendants suffering from severe mental illnesses.
According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, roughly 20 percent of the nation’s state prison population and 21 percent of local jail inmates report having a recent history of a mental health condition, oftentimes an underlying factor in their criminal behavior.
“We can’t prosecute our way out of homelessness and mental illness,” said Deputy District Attorney Chris Bulkeley, whose office is one of six participating agencies in the collaborative program. The others include the county’s Public Defender’s Office, conflict counsel, Probation Department, Health and Human Services Agency, and the courts.
The program officially began in March 2013 with funding for five participants, which later increased to 10.
To qualify, participants must be Yolo County residents with certain felony or misdemeanor cases, have a diagnosed severe mental illness, and agree to their involvement in the program. Referrals are evaluated by the mental health team and admitted only with unanimous support.
Graduation requires the completion of four phases: orientation and treatment-plan development, early recovery, active recovery and sustaining recovery.
By the time he was approached to enroll in mental health court 18 months ago, Fiero had amassed 16 criminal cases in Yolo County, his most recent offenses including shoplifting and possessing drug paraphernalia, but he also had past arrests for assault and burglary.
“I was sick of being out on the streets. I was sick of being in and out of jail,” said Fiero, who came to the realization that his depression, diagnosed at age 16, was a major factor in his behavior and only worsened with alcohol and drug abuse.
“I realized I wasn’t going to get off the streets by continuing to do what I was doing.”
Through mental health court, Fiero was assigned a bed at Walter’s House, a residential substance abuse program in Woodland that offered him treatment, regular meals and a place to sleep. He began attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, where he found a sponsor, Harry “Jay” Feick, to mentor him. He also started going to church.
“I was getting a taste of success from the very beginning,” said Fiero, who began setting small goals for himself and working diligently to achieve them. If something didn’t pan out, Fiero had a Plan B ready to go.
One by one, he turned his goals into reality: completing a 160-hour training course at Western Truck School in West Sacramento and earning his class A driver’s license, which along with a forklift certificate, he’ll put to use at his new job. He also attended classes at Woodland Community College.
Every two weeks — and later, once a month — Fiero went to court, reporting his progress to Judge Gaard and others on the mental health team.
Along the way, he became a father, his son adopted by a Woodland family just a few days before his mental health court graduation. Fiero attended the adoption proceeding at the family’s request.
“I got to see him surrounded by people who know and love him,” he said.
Watching Fiero’s transformation from the beginning was his attorney, Ava Landers, a member of the county’s conflict panel.
“When I first met you, you weren’t quite stable. You really didn’t know where you were going to go or what you were going to do,” she said. “You’re a completely different person than you were 18 months ago. I can’t be more proud of you, but more importantly, you should be proud of yourself.”
‘It’s not who we are’
After 10 years of living along railroad tracks and bathing in swimming pools, Fiero will begin his new life in a cottage apartment in a historic Woodland neighborhood.
Living right next door is Cortopassi, the first mental health court graduate, who served as a mentor to Fiero and fills the same role for two of the program’s current participants.
“I’ve been bipolar all my life but really didn’t know it until three or four years ago,” said Cortopassi, 59, a Woodland native. He occasionally took medication, but would go off it because “I just didn’t think I needed it.”
A manic episode while at work on the UC Davis campus led to Cortopassi’s March 2012 arrest on charges of battery and evading and obstructing police. He lost his job and again rejected medication, “really believing that I wasn’t bipolar, really believing that I was someone I wasn’t: Jesus Christ.”
It was under that belief that Cortopassi, while behind the wheel of his Chevy pickup in February 2013, rammed into the side of a 7-Eleven store in Woodland, telling the clerk inside, “I’m Jesus Christ. Call the cops.”
Cortopassi was arrested and jailed, but found to be a suitable candidate for mental health court. He readily agreed to enroll, becoming the second person to do so.
“At this point I realized, I’ve got a problem. I need help. I’m not Jesus Christ. If I were, God would not be putting me through all this hell,” Cortopassi said.
His journey through mental health court involved weekly meetings with a case manager who helped find him a place to live and taught him coping skills to rely upon during life’s challenges. Deputy Probation Officer Christina Tranfaglia made sure he saw a psychiatrist and took his medications properly. Like Fiero, Cortopassi also had regular mandatory court hearings to monitor his progress.
“There was just a lot of checks and balances. They’re here to support you and encourage you,” Cortopassi said of the mental health team. “I’m stable, and for the first time in all these years, I know who I am.”
While unable to work because of his bipolar disorder and prior felony convictions, Cortopassi finds purpose in volunteer work at the Yolo Food Bank and Fourth and Hope thrift store. Through NAMI, he’s received training to be a support group facilitator, a role he will begin in January.
Even though they have completed mental health court, graduates are encouraged to tap into the program’s resources when needed to ensure their continued success.
Twice a week, Cortopassi visits the Wellness Center, a drop-in service operated by the Yolo County Health and Human Service Agency that offers clients a place to socialize, play games, take skill-building classes or share a meal. While not required to go, Cortopassi does “because it’s better than just being isolated.”
Cortopassi also attended a recent mental health rally in downtown Woodland, where he heard a mantra that sums up how mental health court has taught him to live with his illness.
“Mental illness is something we have, like diabetes or a heart condition. It’s not who we are,” he said.
— Reach Lauren Keene at lkeene@davisenterprise.net or 530-747-8048. Follow her on Twitter at @laurenkeene
