RECLAIMING LIFE THROUGH RECOVERY: Gainesville woman graduates 14-month court treatment program, says she’s found health, happiness and healing through recovery

When Gainesville resident Summer Luna walked into the Ozark County Courthouse and climbed the familiar gray stairs to the courtroom on Feb. 11, it wasn’t her first trip up those steps. In fact, she had made the walk many times since the May 2024 drug bust at her then-Isabella home left her facing a felony possession charge. But this time felt different.

She entered through the tall, heavy wooden doors, took her place in the gallery of pews that serves as courtroom seating and waited anxiously for her name to be called. Then, as she had done before, she stepped to the front of the room and faced the judge.

But on this day, her eyes were clear and her heart was light. 

Glancing toward the row of juror chairs to the right of the judge’s bench, seats typically occupied by handcuffed defendants or attentive jurors, Summer instead saw the smiling faces of loved ones who had stood beside her through the hardest chapter of her life. They had watched her climb from rock bottom and commit to the difficult, daily work required to achieve sobriety.

It was a battle that demanded determination and grit, one that could have ended in a very different kind of court appearance that day. 

Instead, that day marked a milestone.

That day, Summer graduated from Ozark County’s treatment court program.

Telling her story

While standing at the front of the room, the judge allowed Summer to tell her story, a detailed account that was both heartbreaking and inspiring.

Summer said she believes her struggle with substance abuse likely began in sixth grade. After experiencing multiple “extremely traumatic” events, she was suffering from crushing anxiety and depression as a 12-year-old elementary student. To help her cope, a doctor prescribed Xanax and Prozac, which she began taking regularly.

She said she first tried methamphetamine at age 15, and that first experience began a domino effect of using the drug periodically over the next three years until her life changed in a big way. At age 18, she found out she was pregnant with her first child, a boy they named Deric.

“At that point, I found it easy to stop using and did so cold-turkey for the health of my baby,” Summer told the Times. “I didn’t want him to be born with any issues, so I was able to stop without a problem.”

She married the father of her child, and they moved to North Carolina, where he was stationed in the Navy at the time. Life was great but got even better when Deric was 2, and she and her husband found out they were going to have another baby boy.

Nine months later, Lucas arrived, and Summer said she basked in what she calls the absolute “best years” of her life. 

“The boys were healthy. I was married. We were both working and had our own place. We were a stable and self-sufficient family,” she said. “I cherished my time with the boys, getting to stay home with them for the first few years of their lives. We did everything together. I made their meals, cared for them, tucked them in at night, did everything a good mother would. They were my world.”

Summer remembers those days fondly, saying she didn’t use drugs, alcohol or nicotine for six years. “It was the first time I was completely clean since I was 12 years old when I was prescribed Xanax and Prozac,” she said.

But when it was time for the children to go to school, she said life changed for her in a big way. Instead of having two busy boys to keep up with, Summer found herself with hours of emptiness. “I began to feel I had too much time on my hands. I started smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol occasionally to fill my time. But over time, I found myself drinking more and more, and it was becoming a problem,” she said.

As a result, Summer and her husband separated and began living apart. But, they continued sharing the responsibility of caring for their sons. 

Then, in 2016, Summer’s father had fallen ill, and she and her husband independently decided to move back to Missouri to be close to their families.

Returning to Ozark County

Despite the good intentions, returning to her hometown led to a downward and dark spiral.

“After being back in Missouri for about a month, I began using meth again. For the next few years, I would drink to the point of blacking out, and I was engaging in meth use more often. I eventually got tired of the blackouts and waking up not remembering what I had done the night before, so I made the grand decision to quit the alcohol and only do meth to avoid these blackouts,” she said. “That’s when my meth use skyrocketed.”

For the next seven years, Summer’s life crumbled into misery. “I slowly lost everything. I lost my car. I let my license expire because I was too high and didn’t want to go to the courthouse to take my driver’s test. I pushed my family and closest friends away, leaving myself isolated and lonely. I found myself with no money and nowhere to call home and instead, I couch-surfed from one place to the next and provided for myself by digging in dumpsters for clothes and sometimes even food.”

Summer said she had many run-ins with law enforcement during those years. “And I was in jail on both of my boys’ birthdays. I felt like things were completely out of control, and I could see no possible way that they would ever get back to how they once were. I had lost my sense of purpose and self-respect.”

Summer’s dad’s health continued to worsen, and she now regrets not being there for him like she had originally planned. For much of the time after she moved home, she left the responsibility of caring for her dad to her mom and older sister, Angie.

Meanwhile, Summer said her ex-husband was raising their boys on his own. He had decided he wasn’t comfortable allowing Summer to be around the boys because of her continued drug use and instability in life. 

“These realizations were too overwhelming for me to think about. So, I chose to avoid them,” she said. “Not having the boys in my life was the biggest heartbreak I had ever experienced. I thought about them daily, but I didn’t feel worthy enough to contact them. When I did reach out, it was never a healthy experience because they were so hurt from the abandonment of their mother,” she said. 

A short attempt at sobriety, followed by a deep tumble

During those years, Summer had a few persistent friends and family members who begged her to quit using drugs. She shrugged them off most of the time, but one day in 2017, she reached out to a childhood friend and asked if she would give her a ride to rehab. The friend happily agreed.

“We jumped through some hoops, and a couple of my close friends took me to Arkansas to enter John 3:17’s year-long rehab,” she said, referring to the residential Christian recovery program in Newport, Arkansas. “I was there for 30 days when the urge to drink became too much to ignore. So I hitchhiked a ride to a town two hours away where I was picked up by family.”

Summer said that the month she spent at John 3:17 Ministries was the only time she attempted to become sober during that seven-year stretch, apart from a two-month timeframe when she returned to her dad’s bedside and maintained her sobriety as he endured end-of-life care on hospice before his death. 

He passed away in 2022, and her spiral resumed. “Shortly after his passing, I went back to my drug habits and chaotic way of living. I stayed isolated and to myself, constantly high,” she said. “If I wasn’t high, I was asleep or lying in bed, and I was unbearable to be around. I felt I had already missed out on raising my boys. I had no relationship with them to speak of, no relationship with old friends or close family. So I gave up on trying to do anything different and accepted that this was my life.”

Then, the cops came knocking

At 11 p.m. May 4, 2024, the Multi-Jurisdictional Drug Task Force came knocking on Summer’s door with a search warrant in hand. 

They entered the home and conducted a search, which turned up methamphetamine and various pills inside the house and a camper parked on the property.

She was arrested, along with two others who resided there. Summer was transported to the Ozark County Jail, where she spent two long weeks behind bars. 

During those initial weeks, she faced Associate Judge Raymond Gross a handful of times. After initially denying a bond reduction request, he eventually allowed her to be released from custody on house arrest with supervision by Court Probationary Services (CPS) as the case progressed through the court system. 

“I was released to my mother and had to follow the rules of being on CPS, so I was forced to be at her house at all times,” she said. The supervision also involved drug and alcohol testing, which led to her first sobriety in years. 

“My oldest son Deric was living with my mother at the time, along with my older sister. Although it was difficult at times, it forced us to rekindle our relationships,” she said. “I began to realize as I became sober that I got along with people better, and things slowly started to get better in my life.”

After three months at her mom’s house in Gainesville, Summer’s case had worked its way through the court system, and on Oct. 23, 2024, she pleaded guilty to possession of methamphetamine. 

In addition to probation and various costs and fines, she was ordered to attend what was then called “drug court” (now referred to as treatment court to better reflect its purpose, as it sometimes encompasses addictions other than drugs). The judge was clear. It was that or be sent to prison.

Not a walk in the park

While treatment court seemed like a much preferable option to prison, it isn’t a walk in the park. 

Christopher Crews, a counselor with the Gainesville office of Family Correctional Counseling and Behavioral Health (located between Top Dog Fitness Center and Ozark Action in Gainesville), works directly with Ozark County’s treatment court and told the Times that the program involves some real dedication from its participants, especially in its earliest stages. 

The program requires participants to call in between 6 and 7 a.m. daily to find out if that day is one of the multiple days that week that they’ll be required to perform a random drug test. “It’s Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday - 365 days a year,” Crews told the Times. “...You call on your birthday, and you call on Jesus’s birthday. You call every day.”

If the treatment program staff members indicate it is a day in which a test is required, the participant must drive themselves or find a way to the Ozark County Sheriff’s Department between 7 and 9 a.m. to provide a sample, which can be requested in the form of urine, fingernail or hair follicle, allowing staff to test for various drugs, alcohol and other substances. 

On top of that, any member of the treatment court team (including the treatment court administrator, judge, prosecutor, any law enforcement officer or the counselor) can request a sample to be provided and tested at any time. 

“We’re not individual, independent components,” Crews said, referring to the various officials working in the program. “We work as a team to provide the best possible outcome for the individual. So, we can [request a test] at any time if we feel like something is off. Even if they say, ‘I just tested this morning.’ We can have them test again. It gives our clients some accountability.”

But, he explained, when a participant struggles in some way, they are not immediately dismissed from the program. 

“We recognize it’s a long-term, no-cure brain disease,” Crews said. “It’s not just a choice. If you think it is, try putting your phone down for a week and not picking it up... that’s a tiny taste of what addiction is truly like.”

Whether the individual has a positive drug test or failed to comply with the rules of the program, Crews says the team  looks for ways to help support the individual, either through  providing more tools and skill-building activities or through judge-ordered consequences.

Crews explained that when a participant has a positive urine analysis, the judge has a wide range of possible sanctions. These can include community service, typically ranging from five to 40 hours, short jail stays of one to 10 days, or a combination of both. 

Participants may also be assigned reflective essays on addictive thinking or required to observe court proceedings and write about how the situations apply to their own lives. Additional consequences can include suspension of driving privileges, house arrest, or the use of a breathalyzer with frequent testing requirements.

On the treatment side, counseling requirements may also increase, such as moving from three classes per week to seven. The key is that the consequence is personalized to the individual and is aimed at helping them succeed in the future, he said.

Counseling sessions 

On top of the multi-week testing requirement, treatment court participants also agree to attend required counseling sessions and classes built to help them develop the skills needed to face and overcome their addiction. 

They also are required to attend regular meetings with their probation officer and appear in court before a judge twice a month for treatment court.

Crews said that in phase one (of five), participants can expect about 28 hours a month to be dedicated to program classes and coursework. 

The classes begin with Introduction to Recovery, which provides a comprehensive explanation of the legal obligation the participant made when they signed the contract to enter the program. It also helps them learn coping skills (redirecting or challenging their thoughts, leaving the situation) and the five rules of recovery: change your life, ask for help, be completely honest, practice self care and don’t bend the rules.

Another class is called Staying Sober which focuses on the 12 stages of relapse and how to stop the cycle before they hit the 11th stage and re-use drugs or alcohol and experience the 12th the aftermath of relapse.

In Moral Recognition Therapy (MRT), there are no victim statements allowed. “It doesn’t matter what your past was. It doesn’t matter that you felt railroaded. It’s all about you and the decisions you made,” he explained. The coursework focuses on participants changing the way they think or rethink through those events or choices. 

The courses vary in content but serve as building blocks to help participants develop compounding skills toward graduation and recovery.

“By the time they’re graduating, [the hours of classes or counseling sessions] have trickled down to just 4 to 6 hours a month. But I emphasize that when that progression happens, they need to reinvest some of that time into their own recovery. So that may be when NA [Narcotics Anonymous] or AA [Alcoholics Anonymous] meetings become part of their next step, or retaining sobriety with a faith-based group,” Crews said. 

There are also process groups, in which groups of members share their thoughts, feelings, emotions and behaviors with others who are also in the program. “We do a round of check ins - did you have any temptations? Did you stay sober? How’s your testing? Having it in a group setting provides that group accountability,” Crews explained.

Working past barriers

Summer had been told that all of these things would be expected of her if she chose to enter treatment court after her guilty plea, and although she was happy she wasn’t being shipped off to prison, she didn’t have a very good attitude about the alternative either.

“To be honest, it made me really mad. I felt like the process was all about money, and they didn’t really care if we got sober or not,” she said. “I already had to pay court costs and my fines. Now I was dealing with the inconvenience of 6 a.m. calls to determine if I had to pee or not, going in to pee 2-3 times per week, attending meetings 3-4 times a week, seeing Mike [her probation officer] once a week and bi-weekly court appearances to see the judge.”

Compounding the inconvenience, Summer had gotten a job working in home health, and her morning hours coincided with the required times to provide drug test samples. 

But, her employers were there to support her too. She’d been hired by the family of Bob Robbins to care for him at his home.

Bob’s daughter, Diana Premer, told the Times that Summer’s mother, Frances, had originally cared for Bob as his home health nurse. When the care became too much for Frances, Summer said she could step in. Dia, who had been Summer’s third grade teacher at Gainesville Elementary School and later a principal at the district, agreed.

“They really helped me out a lot by giving me that chance. I knew it was asking a lot because this was taking care of her dad, and I had been on drugs,” Summer said. 

But despite her history, Dia said she was confident in giving Summer the opportunity. “I’m a trusting person until something happens that causes me not to be. When I had her in third grade, she was just such a sweet girl, so good-hearted. And I knew her family, [her parents] Frances and Gene. I knew she was living with her mom, which is a good support system,” Dia said.  

“But most of all, I knew she’d treat my dad like her dad. And that’s what really convinced me - how she held his hand, went straight to his bedside when he called, always gave him a hug. I think he enjoys her more than me sometimes,” Dia said, laughing, explaining that she can be a little more bossy than Summer is while caring for him. “His eyes just light up when she’s around. So, I had this gut feeling that she was the right one to care for him.”

Summer explained to Dia and the rest of the family that she was in treatment court and that she had to meet various requirements including providing drug test samples multiple mornings each week and attending classes. They said they understood and were willing to work with her. 

“So, in the beginning, Bob was able to go with me. I would load him up, poor fellow, and he rode with me to the sheriff’s department in the mornings, so I could give a sample,” Summer said. “When it got to where he wasn’t as mobile, he wasn’t able to continue to go with me. So, I would call Missy and Carl Foster, and they would come sit with him while I went up there,” she said.

Missy told the Times that she and her husband were happy to help out whenever they could, allowing to Summer to go to sheriff’s department while they visited with Bob. 

“Eventually, I began to get in a routine with these responsibilities,” Summer said. “I began to notice the people in my community were giving me a chance to succeed. Once I started trying, people began to notice a change in me. I was passing my drug tests, showing up when and where I was supposed to, completing my MRTs and holding down a job.”

As time went on, Summer said she began to regain confidence and find her self-worth again. 

“I realized I was accomplishing things I didn’t think were possible. I found meaning in my work and caring for others. My relationships with my boys were growing stronger, and I was reconnecting with good friends, as well as my mom and sister,” she said. 

Dia said Summer’s work with Bob has been wonderful, and she’s been happy to watch her continued success in her sobriety. 

“She’s worked through it, and it was hard. People don’t realize how hard it can be, not only doing away with the drugs but a lot of the other obstacles too,” she said. “It’s been a great journey. She’s a God-send. Prayers were answered when she came through the door.”

While working at Bob’s and taking on a few homes to clean in her off hours, Summer consistently followed through with her responsibilities in treatment court, and with the help of the team behind her, she’s steadily gotten her life back. 

“In this past year, I have gotten my license back. I got my teeth fixed, and I have quit smoking cigarettes for the first time since 2011. I have a vehicle to drive,” she said. 

“I’ve held a job, and I’m becoming financially stable, having a savings account of my own for the first time since I was married. I’m able to contribute to my boy’s lives now. When they need money for a trip or various expenses, I am able to give it to them. I’m also able to give money to their dad monthly that I was never able to give him while he was raising them. And because of the changes in my life, I am able to give to them again, not only financially but as a mother. I’ve become reliable again, someone they can come to for help when they need it. Someone they can once again count on.

“I would not be experiencing this success without the support of all of those involved throughout the court processes and being sentenced to this drug treatment program. I now see that these people do care about this program and the people going through it. It isn’t about money as I had once thought. This community has also shown me so much support by giving me the chance to make the changes that were needed,” she told the judge and the crowd that day in the courtroom.

“I also want to thank my friends and family for their support throughout this entire process. I couldn’t have done it without their love and forgiveness. And I want to thank my boys for giving me another chance when I didn’t deserve it. Because of all these people, this process and God’s hand on my life, I now feel I have purpose again and hope in my future.”

When Summer finished speaking, the weight of her journey lingered in the room. Supporters wiped at their eyes, and quiet smiles spread across faces in the gallery, pride evident in the stillness that followed her words.

Back at Bob’s house, Dia had let Summer know that she needed to talk to her for a minute after she left the courthouse. But what was waiting inside the home was a surprise party, complete with cake and punch - and many friends, family and other supporters who have contributed to her success in some way or another. With a beaming wide smile, Summer drank it all in, happy that she put the hard work in to treatment court. In return, she was rewarded with the ultimate prize - a good life left to live how she now knows she wants to.

‘There is a huge point’

Summer says she knows graduating treatment court is not a finish line. Instead, her sobriety is a daily decision. Still, the woman who once felt trapped in addiction now stands steady in recovery, rebuilding the life she nearly lost.

For those who are in the throws of addiction, Summer has some advice: don’t give up. 

“There were times when it felt impossible to me. There was a time after Deric graduated that I said I would never quit [using drugs]. I just didn’t see the point. I’d missed my boys growing up. I felt like I’d missed everything,” she said.

“But now I know there is a huge point. The boys still have long lives ahead of them. They’ll probably have kids of their own and go on to live their own lives - and I get to be a part of that now. I have so much gratitude for things I used to take for granted: friends, family and just getting to experience life, really experience it. 

“So, I would tell someone who is going through a dark time that there is a point to moving forward, even if they don’t see it. You haven’t missed it all. There is so much out there ahead of you if you just make the effort to reach out and grab it.”

A judge’s perspective

Associate Judge Raymond Gross, who has presided over Ozark County’s treatment court for the last several years, admits that he was initially a skeptic about the program. 

“As a citizen and taxpayer, I was confused about why people who were found guilty or pled guilty to felony drug possession were not just sent to prison,” he told the Times. 

But, he said his interest was first piqued when he learned that court treatment programs cost taxpayers less compared with sending them to prison. 

According to the Missouri Treatment Courts website, motreatementcourts.org: “Incarceration of drug-using offenders costs between $20,000 and $50,000 per person, per year. The capital costs of building a prison cell can be as much as $80,000. In contrast, a drug court program costs, on average, between $1,500 and $11,000 annually for each offender. 

“Evaluations from the State of Oregon and Dallas County, Texas, have shown that for every dollar invested in drug court, nearly ten dollars are saved by corrections. 

“In 2004, states spent at least $23.3 billion on child welfare activities, including foster care, medical treatment for abused or neglected children and other direct costs of child maltreatment. Indirect costs of child maltreatment, such as Medicare and Medicaid-covered treatment of adults’ medical problems caused by abuse or neglect in childhood, add to this figure.”

“As a fiscally conservative person, that was pretty convincing,” Gross said. He maintains that he still has a strong positive opinion of treatment courts because of that reason, but he’s also now had the personal experience of seeing how it can change individual and community members’ lives for the better. 

“Participants learn skills that aide in confronting their addiction and are screened multiple times a week to ensure continued sobriety as they work through the program. Community service is required, and participants pay fees which support the program. Treatment court participants are much more likely to remain sober and have reduced recidivism rates over individuals who were sent to prison for possession and, as a result, Missouri tax payers are not paying the room and board or medical expenses associated with incarceration for successful participants,” he said. 

He also has a unique perspective on the participants. As the only associate judge in Ozark County, he often sees an individual through many different court lenses. He is there when the case is initially filed (along with any other cases that are filed against them), as well as any family court hearings, ex-parte orders or Division of Family Services cases prior to seeing the individual enter treatment court. So, unlike a larger county with multiple associate judges which might only see one or two of those cases, he sees it all. Therefore, Gross gets a broad view of what that individual might be experiencing through those different lenses. He believes that helps him and the others in the treatment court  program tailor its care to each individual and their needs. 

And, he said, Ozark County’s treatment court has had some great successes, which is always a positive experience.

“Watching someone get sober and healthy and then seeing them repair relationships with family and friends is a refreshing change of pace for judges and court staff who regularly see cases involving jail or prison sentences or contentious family cases,” he said.

Those experiences have made an impact on him. 

“My years of work inside treatment courts have changed my mind and perspective on how best to address the damage caused to our communities by drugs,” he said. “This program may not be perfect, but it works better than prison and costs taxpayers a whole lot less,” he said.