Some Oklahoma courts prescribe work at a poultry plant as alternative to incarceration

After struggling with methamphetamine addiction, Darrell Wilson, 44, faced life in prison for a series of drug and firearms charges in 2015.

Wilson credits Christian Alcoholics and Addicts in Recovery (CAAIR), a court-referred recovery program in Delaware County that puts people to work at a poultry plant and other manual labor jobs, with saving his life. He now works at CAAIR as a staff member.

"When I went before the judge, God was there," Wilson said. "I came here broken, not knowing what to do with my life."

At a different court-referred recovery program called the DARP Foundation in Tahlequah, Mandy Rucinski, 40, said she was forced to work 14-hour days gutting chickens in order to avoid being sent to prison.

“I thought it was a drug rehab,” Rucinski said. “It's not going to help anyone. It's just pulling the guts out of chickens.”

Oklahoma's prisons are full and there are few treatment options for drug-addicted offenders who lack health insurance. Some state courts are prescribing work at a poultry factory as an alternative.

Two state nonprofits claim to divert Oklahomans charged with drug-related or property crime offenses from prison by offering a place to recover from addiction in exchange for work at poultry plants in Arkansas and Missouri. The poultry plants are owned by the private Arkansas-based company Simmons Foods Inc.

All of the participants' wages in both programs go to pay for their room and board.

These nonprofit programs are not licensed or regulated by the state of Oklahoma.

Neither DARP nor CAAIR are certified as drug treatment programs through the Oklahoma Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services.

The programs raise several questions about the legal rights of defendants referred to them through Oklahoma's court system and whether the programs really are helping rehabilitate people with drug problems, said Brady Henderson, legal director for the American Civil Liberties Union of Oklahoma.

"You have people working long days and sleeping on bunk beds. Does this constitute some form of indentured labor?" Henderson said. "Is this something that is really helpful to people?"

ACLU of Oklahoma is currently looking into both the DARP and CAAIR programs, he said.

Both DARP and CAAIR call themselves recovery programs, which are unregulated by the state.

As long as the programs do not advertise themselves as offering a certified drug treatment program, the state does nothing to regulate them, said Durand Crosby, chief of staff and operations for the Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services.

"If they were to claim they were a certified substance abuse treatment provider, then we would require them to become certified," he said.

Battling addiction

CAAIR houses men battling addiction at its recovery center near Jay. The tidy campus consists of three prefabricated metal dormitory buildings on 80 acres surrounded by farmland in Delaware County. Last year, Simmons Foods donated the funds to build the third building at CAAIR. The program now houses about 190 men.

Many CAAIR residents are sent to work at Simmons Foods poultry plant in Southwest City, Mo., to gut chickens. But residents also are sent to other places to work. Some work on a poultry farm. Others work at manufacturing jobs, making things like metal grain bins, oil tanks and pressure washers.

CAAIR's work programs generated more than $2 million in revenue for the nonprofit in 2014, according to its most recent publicly available tax forms.

Janet Wilkerson, a former poultry company executive from Arkansas, co-founded CAAIR with husband Don Wilkerson and two other partners in 2008. She estimates most men in the program work between 36 and 48 hours a week.

"They haven't been used to getting up and going to work and that's part of the structure of the program to teach them responsibility," Wilkerson said. "It's not for everyone. We have no bars, no gates, no guards. They are here by choice."

The program works like a temp agency, providing contract labor to Simmons Foods and other employers, Wilkerson said. The bulk of revenue from the wages men earn while at CAAIR goes back into the program, she said.

Most of the men at CAAIR have been charged with felonies, and the program is their last chance to avoid prison.

The program accepts only nonviolent offenders and takes no state or federal funding. Along with room and board, CAAIR residents get regular 12-step meetings and weekly counseling sessions. Anger management and parenting classes also are offered. CAAIR also requires participants to attend church on Sunday for the first 16 weeks of the program.

Walking around the CAAIR campus on a recent afternoon, one resident with a shaved head and tattooed arms stopped to hug Wilkerson. The man thanked her for a new pair of prescription glasses the CAAIR program just purchased for him. CAAIR provides medical and dental care after 30 days in the program.

"These are good guys; they just made some mistakes," Wilkerson said.

Simmons Foods

In a statement, Simmons Foods said the company sometimes hires CAAIR participants as full-time employees once they graduate from the program.

Simmons' contractual agreement requires organizations like CAAIR to operate in accordance with state and federal requirements and carry insurance, the company said in a statement.

"The willingness of a CAAIR client to maintain a job is a key part of breaking free from unhealthy habits, and Simmons is gratified to be one part of helping recovering addicts become productive members of their communities," the company said.

Less than 2 percent of Simmons workforce, about 120 workers, are CAAIR clients, the company said.

"Simmons is proud of the fact that over the years, CAAIR clients who graduated from the program chose to continue their careers at Simmons including about 30 currently employed with us today, with some even pursuing advanced college degrees," Simmons said.

Simmons pays CAAIR $12 an hour for each worker in the program, which is in the range of pay for the jobs performed, the company said. CAAIR is responsible for compensating their clients while they are in the program. Simmons also provides job training, as well as life-skills training on topics such as personal finances and finding jobs.

CAAIR's program is based in part on the program operated by the DARP Foundation near Tahlequah, where Rucinski worked gutting chickens.

DARP Foundation

At DARP, residents also work at a poultry plant or a chicken farm in exchange for room and board in an effort to avoid prison time.

However, DARP offers participants little or no individual counseling after long days of work on a chicken farm or a poultry plant, according to court documents and interviews with former residents.

Special District Judge Michael Tupper of Norman, who presides over the Cleveland County Drug Court's program, has referred drug court participants to both the CAAIR and DARP programs in the past.

The programs are typically an "option of last resort" for drug court participants who are struggling to stay sober and are in danger of not graduating from the drug court program, Tupper said.

Drug court defendants are presented with multiple options and a referral to a program like CAAIR or DARP may be one choice to help a defendant stay sober and out of prison, Tupper said.

Tupper said he does not refer drug court participants to work programs like CAAIR and DARP in place of drug treatment. Some drug court participants are sent to CAAIR or DARP while they are waiting for a bed at a state-sponsored inpatient treatment program.

The waiting list for state-ordered drug treatment programs can be as long as 600 to 800 names at times, Tupper said.

Some drug court participants don't even qualify to be placed on the waiting list for state inpatient treatment programs and yet still struggle to stay sober while in the drug court program.

“Courts across the state are having to be as creative and resourceful as possible to fight this addiction epidemic,” Tupper said.

Referring a drug court participant to CAAIR or DARP can help the person get away from people and situations where they may be tempted to use, Tupper said.

Programs not certified

In 2011, the Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services sent an email to Oklahoma drug court programs alerting them that CAAIR and DARP were not certified drug treatment providers.

Dennis Malipurathu, an Oklahoma prison inmate, filed a federal lawsuit against the DARP Foundation and the Washita-Custer County Drug Court program in 2011, claiming he had no other choice but to attend the work program.

Malipurathu was required to work for Simmons Foods in Decatur, Arkansas, as part of the DARP program, according to the lawsuit.

The job included stacking “one metric ton of chicken every three minutes by hand” in 95 degree heat for 10 to 14 hours a day, according to the lawsuit.

“Compensation for this type of labor is a choice of one pack of cigarettes or one can of snuff every other day,” the lawsuit claimed.

Malipurathu was ordered to DARP in 2009 for inpatient drug treatment, according to court documents.

In a court affidavit, Custer County Drug Court Judge Jill Weedon wrote that she stopped sentencing drug court offenders to DARP after the Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services alerted drug courts that DARP was not a certified drug treatment program.

“At the time Malipurathu was sent to DARP, it was my understanding that it was a legitimate treatment facility,” the judge wrote. “It has always been very difficult to find inpatient treatment beds, and even more difficult for those who cannot pay for treatment. DARP was willing to work with our participants and did not charge for treatment.”

Malipurathu's lawsuit was eventually dismissed.

Only a small fraction of the estimated 8,000 drug court participants each year are referred to the CAAIR and DARP programs. During the 2016 fiscal year, 26 drug court participants went to the DARP program and 40 went to CAAIR, according to the Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services, which pays for administrative costs and treatment services for the state's drug courts.

The state does not consider people in CAAIR and DARP programs as drug court participants and won't pay administrative costs for people who are sent to the work programs.

Avoiding prison

Some offenders enter the DARP and CAAIR programs not through drug courts, but as conditions of plea agreements with the state in exchange for suspended sentences, court records show.

Rucinski went to DARP in 2015 as one of the conditions of a suspended sentence after she pleaded guilty to possession of a controlled substance. Muskogee County court records show Rucinski agreed to attend the DARP program for at least six months as part of a sentencing agreement with the state. At DARP, Rucinski hoped to get help for methamphetamine addiction and avoid going to prison, she said.

At DARP's facility for women near Tahlequah, Rucinski said she slept on a bunk bed in a dormitory room she shared with three other women.

Rucinski claims she worked shifts as long as 14 hours a day during her six-month stay at DARP. She first worked at a chicken processing facility owned by DARP near Tahlequah. It was common for women to quit the program and run away, she said. Rucinski said she stayed because she desperately wanted to avoid going to prison.

“It was the hardest thing I've ever done,” Rucinski said. “I cried every day.”

DARP closed its processing plant near Tahlequah in 2015. After that, Rucinski said she and other DARP workers were sent to work at a poultry plant owned by Simmons Foods about an hour away in Arkansas.

The only counseling DARP offered was a nightly 12-step meeting after work in the chicken plant was over, Rucinski said.

“I worked my whole time there,” she said. “It's not a treatment program. It's a work program.”

After completing the DARP program, Rucinski continued to struggle with addiction to methamphetamine. She was arrested again in Rogers County in June 2016 for public intoxication after a sheriff's deputy found her in an abandoned house with a belt wrapped around her arm and a syringe in her hand, according to court documents.

Arrested again

In September, Rucinski was arrested again after shoplifting items from a Tulsa Walmart. Police also found a baggy containing methamphetamine residue in her purse, according to court records.

Her suspended sentence was revoked and she is now serving three years in prison at Eddie Warrior Correctional Center in Taft.

Tyler Snook, 27, has spent time in both the DARP and CAAIR programs.

In 2012, Snook pleaded guilty in McClain County District Court to unauthorized use of a vehicle — a felony — and was sent to DARP as part of a community sentencing program that would allow him to avoid prison time. Court records show Snook was ordered to attend an inpatient drug treatment program as part of his sentence. He went to DARP to fulfill the treatment requirement, according to court records.

“Whenever I signed up for it, I heard they were chicken plants, but it was supposed to be inpatient drug rehab,” Snook said.

Snook only spent a few weeks living at a men's dorm operated by DARP in Decatur, Arkansas, where he said he worked on a chicken farm, collecting the birds and loading them onto tractor-trailers to be taken for slaughter.

At DARP, there was no counseling offered outside of a one- to two-hour 12-step meeting at the end of the work day, Snook said.

“It is a lot of labor for some rehab,” he said.

Snook ran away after a few weeks in the program and had friends send him money via Western Union for a bus ticket home, he said.

In 2014, Snook attended the CAAIR program in Delaware County again as part of his sentence out of McClain County. Snook spent about two months at CAAIR before being kicked out for allegedly starting a fight in his dorm room. He denies he started the fight.

At CAAIR, Snook said he worked 12-hour shifts gutting chickens at Simmons Foods poultry plant in Southwest City, Missouri.

Each day, a van would ferry Snook and other CAAIR residents about 20 minutes away to the poultry plant in Missouri, Snook said.

Snook said he spent his shifts at Simmons using a tool called a “lung gun” to suck the guts out of chickens.

“It's a little suction gun. You stick it in and suck out all the crap,” Snook said. “It wasn't hard work — it was lazy work — a lot of standing around.”

Snook said he agreed to attend both the CAAIR and DARP programs because he believed it was his last chance to avoid prison.

“If I had other options, I would have probably chosen them,” Snook said.

After getting kicked out of CAAIR, Snook's bond was revoked and he was sent to prison.

He's now serving a five-year prison sentence at Jess Dunn Correctional Center in Taft for the McClain County conviction, as well as an additional 15 years for second-degree burglary and possession of a stolen credit card for subsequent convictions out of Stephens County.

District judge

Court records show one district court judge in Muskogee County has sent dozens of offenders to the DARP program.

Muskogee County District Judge Mike Norman regularly approves sending offenders to DARP for court-ordered drug rehabilitation as part of sentencing.

Norman said he's never been to the DARP facility, but said he believed there was at least some counseling offered to residents.

Offenders are typically allowed to choose a drug rehabilitation program of their choice as part of sentencing, Norman said. However, if an offender doesn't have health insurance or can't afford the tens of thousands of dollars most drug treatment programs cost, the options are limited.

“If you don't have insurance, nobody wants you,” Norman said. “DARP usually doesn't have a waiting list.”

Typically, offenders spend the first six months or year of their sentence at DARP and the balance is suspended. DARP can be a good program for offenders who have no money, Norman said.

“They don't pay any fines or costs,” Norman said. “They go to work to pay for their cost of living.”

Muskogee County District Attorney Orvil Loge, whose office has signed off on offenders going to DARP as part of sentencing, said offenders typically request to be sent to the program in order to avoid prison time.

“It seems to me to be a successful program if they do it,” Loge said. “It's a tough program to get up and go to work at a chicken plant each day for six months to a year and to be confined to that.”

Lodge said he did not know how much drug and alcohol counseling was offered at DARP and said he had never visited the program.

End of dirt road

DARP's men's facility near Tahlequah sits at the end of a dirt road in a rural area, surrounded by a forest. The men's dormitory is a white, aluminum-sided building surrounded by several weathered-looking mobile homes. The women's facility is another aluminum-sided building on a hill a few miles away, next to DARP's now-shuttered processing plant.

Raymond Jones, founder of the DARP Foundation, declined to allow The Oklahoman to visit the program and talk to residents there.

The founders of CAAIR once hired Jones as a consultant to make contacts with Oklahoma drug court judges and arrange a labor contract with Simmons Foods, according to a lawsuit Jones filed against Wilkerson and her partners in 2011.

Jones said DARP has helped thousands of people with addiction during its 17 years in existence, but declined to say how many people who are sent to DARP through the courts complete the program.

“If one person's life has been changed in the 17 years we've been in business, then it's a success,” he said.

DARP has no formal relationship with Simmons Foods, Jones said. Rather, DARP residents who work at the poultry plant are hired as employees of Simmons. The workers voluntarily agree to give their wages from the poultry plant to DARP while in the program, Jones said.

In a statement, Simmons Foods also said it has no contractual relationship with DARP, although some DARP residents may happen to work for the company.

“Some of DARP's clients may currently choose to work at Simmons and are compensated just as any other Simmons employees are compensated," the company said in a statement. "In 2008, Simmons acquired Peterson Farms who had a relationship with DARP. As part of the transition, Simmons maintained that relationship initially, but terminated the contract after about a year. Simmons makes no contributions to DARP. Any claims by DARP or its clients that a contractual relationship exists with Simmons Foods are not true."

Jones declined to answer questions about what kind of drug and alcohol counseling the DARP program offered.

Offenders volunteer to attend the DARP program and are free to leave if they don't like it, Jones said.

“It's freedom of choice,” Jones said. “There's no bars on these windows.”