Former addict surprises all and turns life around

She's a rare example of how a longtime addict and criminal can turn her life around, a judge said.
By SARAH WEBER
VINDICATOR STAFF WRITER
YOUNGSTOWN -- Paulette Orr was sitting at a bus stop when Curtis Hill found her. He had seen her before in the rooms of recovery -- Alcoholics, Narcotics and Cocaine anonymous -- but they had never spoken.
She looked different, though, he thought.
Orr remembers it this way: She had just hit rock bottom. Broke, homeless, she was wanted by police and addicted to a variety of drugs.
"I had burned my bridges with my whole family; I found myself out on the streets," Orr, a 36-year-old Youngstown resident, said in a recent interview. "I actually had nowhere to live. That's when I surrendered and said, 'This has got to stop.'"
With some encouragement from Hill, Orr admitted herself into Neil Kennedy Recovery Clinic in Youngstown and turned herself in to police.
She surprised everyone, including Municipal Court Judge Robert A. Douglas Jr.
Having disappeared from treatment court several times, she was believed to be a hopeless case. So when she came before the judge in November 2005, he looked at her and said, "We have a stranger in the house," Orr recalled.
"This was rare and unusual," Judge Douglas told a reporter. "I was surprised. She has an extensive history. ... It's hard to change with the kind of history she had."
So hard, in fact, he said he could not recall another case in which someone with such a long history of addiction and criminal activity turned themselves in to police.
How it began
Orr's slow roll downhill started 20 years ago, when she dropped out of Cardinal Mooney High School in the 10th grade. She had had an average upbringing with several brothers and sisters, a father who worked for the Mahoning County Sheriff's Department and a mother who worked at Youngstown Sheet and Tube Inc.
But to the kids in the South Side neighborhood where she lived, the drug culture was more attractive than school.
"I was smoking weed and I became an alcoholic at the age of 16. That's when my education flew out the window," Orr said. "I decided I didn't want to go to school anymore, which broke my parents' hearts because they were paying for my education and here I am becoming an alcoholic and a drug addict."
Despite her drug habits and dropping out of school, Orr's parents allowed her to stay at home. It wasn't until she started having run-ins with the law that she felt the negative consequences of her drug abuse. She was 17 when she the arrests began.
"When I started smoking crack cocaine is when I started getting into trouble," Orr said. "I would get caught with drug paraphernalia it seemed like every other month. I'd do thirty days for it and I'd be out for a month and then go right back to jail."
Felony charge
In November 2000, Orr was arrested for possession of cocaine, a felony, and was sentenced to probation. She almost immediately violated her probation and was sentenced to a year at the Ohio Reformatory for Women in Marysville.
"I got out and that same day I got high again, violated my parole because I didn't report," Orr said. She also failed her drug test. "My parole officer sent me to Cleveland to a halfway house. Instead of sending me back to prison, he tried to give me a chance."
Orr served 96 days at South East Women's Center in Cleveland. The day she got out, she got high, violated her parole again, and landed back in prison for six more months.
"I was in and out of institutions for three years straight. I never even had a break," Orr said. "It was either jail, prison or halfway house for three years. I kept on getting high . ..."
It seemed nothing would reform her -- jail time, probation, treatment, even a few second chances. She kept using drugs. Even the death of her older brother, another addict who overdosed in the late 90s, had no effect.
"I wanted to be a part of, you know, hanging out and doing stupid stuff," Orr said. "The people who hung out on the corners, who drank and cursed at each other. That fast life, that street life is what attracted me."
But street life took on a new meaning for Orr when she found herself homeless and broke. She was wanted by police for not attending Youngstown Treatment Court and continuing to relapse. She was ready to get help.
That came along in the form of Hill. When he saw Orr sitting at a bus stop, he remembered his own struggle with addiction, just a little more than eight years earlier. Orr told him she was sick of running from police. She was sick of the lifestyle.
"She didn't have anyone. She reminded me of when I was out there," said Hill, of Boardman. "I gave her $4 or $5 in quarters and gave her my number. You know when you walk up into the facility you can get stressed out and ... leave. So I said, 'Before you would leave, just give me a call and let's talk about it.'"
Orr admitted herself to the clinic and has been clean for seven months. She began going to her Treatment Court sessions and on June 7, graduated from the program.
"I've humbled myself," Orr said. "Like before I thought I could do anything and not suffer any consequences. I wouldn't listen to anybody, but now I take suggestions, I talk about my problems, I get advice, I read my Bible."
She continued, "I'm OK with the fact that I can never take another drink again in my life or smoke another rock [of cocaine] again."
Help groups
She attends Narcotics Anonymous, Cocaine Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous meetings as well as classes at Turning Point for Alcohol and Other Drugs. She's also working on mending ties with her family and has found a home with her aunt.
Hill and Orr agreed that there is no way to recover from an addiction unless a person makes the personal choice to change the lifestyle. Go to the NA, CA and AA meetings until you find a group you feel comfortable in, they suggested to anyone ready to seek help.
"You could go in there for your mother, or your kids, or your husband, or your wife, but unless you go in there for yourself, it's not going to work," Hill said. "If you go around the same people, stay in the same places, I don't care how good your recovery is going for you, you're going to get high, because it's a disease."