Part II of a series on the 52-2 District Court’s Sobriety Court program, The Clarkston News examines how two local men took the opportunity to turn their lives around.

Steve

After years earning a the solid living of a successful businessman, Steve Koss found himself with $38 one payday.
It was a 42-hour week, but Koss had recently entered Sobriety Court, and once the check from his new job stocking shelves at Kroger was divided between child support payments and court costs, that was all he had left. Thirty-eight bucks.
Koss didn’t know what to expect from Sobriety Court, but anything was better than going to jail.
The first year was tough, he said. The first six months were really bad and the first 90 days were a nightmare.
Koss rode his bike about 15 miles a day, getting back and forth to Kroger and fulfilling Sobriety Court obligations such as daily testing and AA meetings.
Issues with transportation, Koss said, are one of the program’s most difficult aspects.
‘If you’re out of money and out of work you’re basically screwed,? he said. ‘When they take your license away you’re forced to inconvenience your family and friends, and that’s the worst part. You broke the law, you know what the rules are, so you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.?
‘What was I going to do, give up?? he said. ? I don’t think so. It’s not in my vocabulary.?
So he didn’t give up. He kept going, and last week Koss was one of five graduates honored at the 52-2 District Court Sobriety Court graduation ceremony.
‘When Steve was in the courtroom, I had to remember I was the judge,? said Judge Kelley Kostin of the 52-2 District Court. ‘There were rules and regulations he felt needed to be addressed.?
With persistence comes change, Kostin told those gathered for the ceremony.
‘Because of Steve we actually sat down and reviewed some of our original sobriety court rules and decided they needed to be changed,? she said.
Kostin went on to tell the audience about Koss? participation in the program, and his devotion to helping others.
‘Even while he was working the program he was mentoring others,? she said. ‘This guy was always here, always ready to help. He’s done a wonderful job and I think we have gotten back a wonderful person in our community that’s going to help save some lives.?
For Koss, it’s all just part of the way he lives today, guided by a few simple principles he learned along the way.
‘Trust God, clean house and help others,? he said.
Daily AA meetings, he said, have been the most important part of his recovery process. Sobriety Court mandates 90 meetings in 90 days.
‘Sooner or later something’s going to rub off,? he said. ‘People change. You can watch people change. It’s like a giant therapy session.?
Koss said he’s observed newcomers arrive at a meeting, sit in the back and just listen without participating.
Eventually, he said, they may contribute something to the meeting, and finally begin to engage in the process of change.
‘They see what you’ve got and they want it,? he said. ‘AA calls it a higher power. I call my guy Jesus Christ.?
It was from a friend at AA, in fact, that Koss learned to ask himself a question that keeps him on his chosen path.
‘Are you good to go? If you found out you were going to die today, would you be ready?? he said.
In other words, he explained, he asks himself if he’s done the things he needs to do.
And he talks a lot about honesty.
‘Honesty, that’s a big one,? he said. ‘You’ve got to be honest with yourself. Why are you here?? Are you really honest with yourself, and if you’re not, do you have the courage to make changes??
Those changes, he said, not only helped him stop drinking, but helped him make other important life changes, as well.
Today, Koss said he puts more focus on social responsibility and has respect for others where before there was none. He sponsors six individuals coming up behind him in AA, and goes to meetings every day.
‘There’s some young kids and some old guys,? he said. ‘You see people from all walks of life, but everybody gets new direction.?
And for him, that direction means avoiding the Old Crow he was once so fond of.
‘I crossed the line,? he said> ‘Today I can’t take the chance I might kill myself or someone else.?

Mike

Mike Teaney was drowning in a flood of devastation as he drove home the day after his second drunk driving arrest.
He’d blown the adoption two Guatemalan children he and his wife Tracey had fallen in love with; he just knew he’d blown it.
On top of that, he’d let Tracey down in the worst possible way.
Teaney didn’t notice when neighbor recognized his car and drove up along side him.
‘I was praying,? he said. ‘I was saying, ‘God, please, I just need some direction.?
In hindsight, Teaney knows the neighbor was the answer to his prayer, a sign that everything would be OK.
The neighbor, Brian, followed him up the long driveway, got out of his car and asked what was wrong.
Teaney let the events of the last 24 hours spill out, and it was then things started to change.
‘Brian’s been a very strong influence in my life ever since,? he said. ‘We talked, and he took me to my first AA meeting.?
‘I had a lot of anxiety going to my fist meeting,? he said. ‘I was afraid of being judged, but nobody judged me. People came up and shook my hand, gave me their phone number.?
By the time he left that first meeting, Teaney recalled, he had about 25 phone numbers stuffed in his pocket.
Before long, he found himself in the 52-2 District Court with a choice: Oakland County Jail or Sobriety Court.
He spent one night in jail after his arrest, and wasn’t interested in going back.
‘People in there know what side of the street you come from,? he said. ‘They can tell right away. They take your pillow, your blanket. It’s not fun.?
He chose Sobriety Court.
But with a revoked driver’s license and no other way to get to the daily alcohol and drug testing or the 90 AA meetings required of participants in the course of 90 days. Teaney had no choice but to climb on his bike and start pedaling.
Everyday, he rode his bike along M-15 from Perry Lake Road to Dixie Highway and back.
‘Some days the wind’s in your face and it’s not a fun ride,? he said. ‘Yeah, it’s difficult to get around without a license, but at least you have the opportunity to get around. At least you’re not in jail.?
During the time he was in Sobriety Court and trying to keep the adoption process going, Teaney was also involved in a real estate deal that went bad and forced him and Tracey to file for bankruptcy.
It was a difficult time, he said, but not the end of the world.
‘Is it painful? Yeah, but I’ll get over it,? he said. ‘Before, maybe not. The fact that I had been duped would have been overwhelming. I had this need to be perfect.?
But Judge ‘Most people look at judges as being aloof, or far off,? he said. ‘But you could tell she really cares about the people in this program. At times I could see she was upset sometimes mad, sometimes sad. She can be tough, but she’s very fair and that’s all you can ask for.?
Fortinberry, he said, stood by and wrote letters to help keep the adoption process going. She involves families, he said, and encourages counseling for everyone involved. She told Tracey, ‘he needs your support.?
‘I watched her help people find jobs, help people when they had problems with their husband or their wife. She is a person who gives back to the community, Teaney said. ‘Everyone in Sobriety Court stood behind you and made you feel good about yourself and what you were doing.?
Today, Teaney continues to give back to the community, something he said he wouldn’t have considered before Sobriety Court. In addition to being a dad to his own four children’they call him Papa’he also makes time to mentor at-risk kids at the learning center in Rochester.
It’s not a badge of honor, he tells them, to be cited for minor in possession, or to get caught with drugs and alcohol.
Kids need boundaries. They need to learn responsibility and accountability.
It opens up a side of you you’ve never seen before. You can’t help but change your heart and make yourself available to others.
Teaney has also offered work with people just coming into Sobriety Court..
‘The program can be overwhelming for some people, but the alumni are willing to give back,? he said. ‘I want to give back; I want to help. I wasn’t like that before my second arrest.?
I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for Judge Fortinberry and Mark Mathur,? he said. ‘I’d probably be divorced, I wouldn’t have my kids or my trust in the system. And I definitely wouldn’t be doing volunteer work or community service.?
As for his own life, Teaney knows staying sober is the best choice for him and his family. I have just as much or more fun not drinking. I’m safer driving home, I don’t get a hangover and I don’t embarrass myself.?
A little perspective, he said, goes a long way.
‘I’m looking at things with a new set of glasses,? he said. ‘You find yourself looking at people and thinking ‘I hope I never acted like that guy’s acting. Without a doubt, I had my moments.?

Who’s behind the program? Come back next week to meet the team in our third and final look into Sobriety Court.