Melissa Simonson was living in a halfway house without a job, without transportation and without her three children when she began to despair.

Recently released out of prison as a second-time offender, Simonson had fallen short on rent money after quitting a bad job in a bug-infested restaurant.

Trying to support herself, let alone her children, seemed to Simonson an impossible goal.

"I was supposed to be at the beginning of my life," she said, "and I felt like I was at the end."

It was September 2007, and Simonson, fresh from prison, was living at the county detox center and seeing a counselor.

Her chances of achieving her goals of living in her own home with her children while working at a good job seemed as distant as the moon - except for one thing: a new program called Rebound that had been initiated by the Pennington County Department of Health and Human Services.

Her aftercare counselor sent a referral to the program coordinator, seeing possibilities in Simonson's determination, even though she remembers feeling "helpless and hopeless."

The first thing that happened: Barry Tice, Rebound coordinator, sat down with Simonson and opened a newspaper.

"Let's look for jobs," he told her.

Making a difference

Over the past three years since the program began, Tice and Rebound staff members have worked with 131 clients.

Tice said the program targets men and women who have had a long history with alcohol and substance-abuse issues and the criminal justice system - people like Simonson, who might otherwise end up on the streets, using alcohol and drugs again.

The people who come into the program are usually referred by officials from the meth program, Friendship House, Detox, Pennington County Jail, Court Services, the public defender's office and probation and parole offices.

Other referrals included those from Health and Human Services, Department of Social Services, Community Action Program, Salvation Army,

food bank and Behavior Management Systems.

The program began with two clients in 2006. By 2007, when Simonson came to Rebound, she was one of 25 clients. By 2008, 86 clients came into the program, with 33 of them placed in permanent housing, he said.

"Already, we could see a difference," Tice added.

Before Rebound, Tice said, clients found it difficult to apply for assistance, find affordable housing or to apply for and maintain jobs.

In treatment facilities, some clients had received medication for mental illnesses for the first time in their lives, but they weren't helped after being released from jail or treatment to live on the street or at relatives' or friends' homes.

"Without their medications, they'd pick a fight or get into an altercation and find themselves right back at square one," Tice said.

This program was meant to change that cycle.

Before the Rebound program was started, many of the clients slid back into the system through drug or alcohol abuse. Before using the program, the 131 Rebound clients had spent 6,203 days in jail. But after they enrolled in it, their recidivision rate dropped dramatically.

Although it isn't a cure-all, and some clients have returned to jail, the program has broken the chronic recidivism for many. Those clients returning to jail spent only 144 days, working hard to leave the system.

"This program works and has saved Pennington County $313,264 in jail services," Tice said.

Rebound allows case managers flexibility to meet clients' needs, he said.

Services are modified to meet specific needs and abilities. A variety of individuals in the program had issues with literacy, anxiety and disabilities, lacked money-management skills and had no place to live.

Tice said that he has helped clients buy their first household goods - bed linens, towels and cleaning supplies - setting up a new home for those who never really lived in their own home from the time that they were children.

"Once we've met their basic needs, they're ready to go onto to their new life," Tice said.

It was the first step toward Simonson's goals. Soon, she had a job, had saved enough for rent, had moved out of her transitional housing and was in her own place.

"Slowly, piece by piece, they helped put the puzzle of my life together," she said.

'Can't go back'

Simonson had been in trouble off and on since she was 12, when she shot off fireworks within the city limits after July 4 celebrations. It was her first contact with local law enforcement, but it would not be the last.

She began shoplifting bread, doughnuts and other items for something to eat. She figured out how to distract clerks while deftly lifting bills from the cash register. "I was playing the role of an adult at a very young age," she said.

She began experimenting with alcohol and drugs and was sent to the Lamont Youth Development Center at Redfield, a treatment facility for girls, for 11 months.

"I did my first AA meeting when I was 15," she said.

She also finished eighth grade while at Redfield. She returned to Rapid City on probation for one year and stayed sober for the entire length of her probation. Soon after achieving that goal, she began drinking and fighting.

Eventually, she was kicked out of school and never returned.

"I was always drinking, smoking and going into drugs," Simonson said.

It was normal for Simonson to get behind the wheel of her car while drugged, drunken, or both. She had three arrests under her belt for driving under the influence when the fourth incident nearly sent her to a watery grave.

She and a friend had been partying at the Buffalo Chip Campground during the Sturgis motorcycle rally. Coming home to Rapid City, Simonson went the wrong way, heading into Wyoming. She remembers starting to fall asleep while driving, then running off the interstate down an

embankment, plunging her car into a pond. The car flipped and sank into the dark water, she said.

The shock of water immediately brought Simonson to consciousness. Disorientated, she felt for her friend while opening a window.

Simonson kicked to the surface, gulped a huge breath of air, and then dived back underwater to find her friend and haul her from the car.

"It was bad," Simonson said. "I remember praying to God: 'Please, let me live.'"

The women found their feet and struggled to the shore. Simonson came out without a scratch, but law enforcement was not sympathetic.

Sentenced for her fourth charge of driving under the influence, Simonson arrived to serve her first prison sentence in 2003. She would eventually return to prison for trafficking methamphetamine. Having been introduced to the highly addictive drug at 19, she walked into prison for the last time as an intravenous drug user.

Today, she's 34 and drives to her job in her insured car. In the evening, she returns to her home to fix dinner for her three children.

Life is better, though not perfect: Her son was recently admitted to a facility for treatment.

"It's like watching myself grow up again," Simonson said.

With her parole ended, she no longer answers to the state for her actions. It makes her nervous, but she is confident that she will continue to succeed and build hope.

"I have my kids back in my life. A house, insurance, license, car. These are my main drive to stay off drugs. I can't go back to the way was before," she said.

Contact Jomay Steen at 394-8418 or jomay.steen@rapidcityjournal.com.

Title: Public intoxication Date: May 18th, 2009 The Rapid City Journal takes a closer look at the issue of public intoxication - what causes it, how does it affect the community and what can be done? VIEW PRESENTATION »