SPOKANE, Wash. – “All rise,” echoes through Judge Patrick Johnson’s courtroom as another session of Veterans Court begins on a September Thursday morning.”Thank you for being here today,” Judge Johnson says as he greets those in attendance – the attorneys, the defendants, and in the corner, two women holding a quilt.Judge Johnson goes through the docket.”What else should I know about your struggles?” he asks one veteran currently going through the program.After yet another run-in with the law, the man explains the obstacles he’s faced: The memories of his military service. The estrangement from his family. In a word – loneliness.”We’re here to stand by you,” Judge Johnson reaffirms.Yet the Veterans Court program is about accountability. If you want to stay in the program, you need to accept it.”I’ll ask you this a serious question because some people just aren’t able to do community service,” Judge Johnson begins. “Would you rather do two days in jail or 16 hours of community service?”The veteran wants to be held accountable. He wants to remain in the program. He wants the community service, however, doesn’t have a bus pass to make it feasible. He seems almost defeated. Ready to accept that he’ll be spending two days in the county jail.However, as he explained all of this to Judge Johnson, the defense attorney and the prosecutor – veterans themselves – exchanged a glance. It’s subtle, but a silent deal is quickly made between the two sides to get the man a bus pass so that he can begin to make a wrong, right.It’s the cornerstone of Veterans Court: Another chance.”No one holds someone accountable more than a veteran,” Chrystal Ortega explains outside the courthouse. “Every human is going through struggles. Veterans are not unique to that.”Ortega would know.A veteran herself, Ortega has been a mentor in the program for four years. She has helped guide several veterans through the process of making the most of another chance. She is their mentor, their go-to, someone they can relate to. She’s the person veterans can confide in, and not just about the mistakes they made that led them to Judge Johnson’s courtroom.“(We talk about) just life. I would say just life, right?” Ortega says as she reflects on the relationships she has with her mentees. “My mentee that we saw today, we met for coffee frequently.”It’s a relationship that can last up to two years in some cases.”We don’t measure success by how fast they get through the program,” Ortega adds. “We measure success by how complete they are in the program… recovery isn’t a linear thing. People have set backs.”If all goes right, if the vet puts in the work, it leads to the reason Ortega is at the courthouse on this windy autumn day: Graduation.While there is pride in the journey to get to this point, there’s not necessarily pride in what got them into Veterans Court in the first place. This particular veteran asked to remain anonymous for this story.”I’ll just call her my mentee,” Ortega tells Judge Johnson.Part of being a mentor is briefing Judge Johnson on the work the veteran is doing. On this day, as usual with this particular veteran, Ortega has nothing but positive things to report. She’s done the work.”Today she said, ‘This has flown by! This has just went by so quick, I can’t believe it’ and I said, ‘Well that’s because you really put the time and effort into the program,'” Ortega says.Like any graduation, it wouldn’t be complete without a keynote speaker. In this case, it’s the mentee.”Do you have a letter for us today?” Judge Johnson asks.The courtroom stands silent as the veteran’s words of remorse, her trials and truth, and her hope for better days reverberate gently, yet poignantly. Toward the end of her statement, she says, “I’m not a perfect person, but I believe I’m a good person. And I made a big mistake.”Judge Johnson agrees.”That was a powerful statement. Thank you for sharing that with us,” he says. “I want to echo your own thoughts. You are a good person and we are happy to have had you in this program.”It’s a program the veteran leaves, but not without some graduation gifts. Her attorney pulls out a Magic 8 Ball of affirmations, shakes it up and reads aloud the words of wisdom waiting for the veteran whenever she needs them.”I’m a force for good. My energy is magnetic. It’s OK I joined the Navy, at least it wasn’t the Marine Corps.”The courtroom laughs. Even the Marines who are present.“Veteran mentee, post!” Judge Johnson says with a smile on his face, calling the veteran to the center of the courtroom.From there, it’s time for the two women holding a quilt in the corner of the room to take the stage. They are representatives from Quilts of Valor, a foundation of volunteers who donate their time to make quilts and award them to veterans as a token of appreciation for their service and sacrifice.One of the women approached the veteran and wrapped the quilt around her as the other explained the purpose and significance of the new gift of warmth.”May it always remind you that you are loved. You are remembered. And your service is greatly appreciated,” the woman says. With that, wrapped in a quilt and holding a certificate of graduation from Judge Johnson, surrounded by fellow veterans, her proud mentor and a round of applause, the veteran has graduated.It’s a program built on a foundation of second chances to renew a sense of purpose in the veterans who come through. “To get them back to who they were when they were in the military, just not in a uniform,” Ortega summarizes while adding she hopes that purpose might be a path back to the program of Veterans Court, just in a different capacity.”I really hope she comes back to the program as a mentor because I think she’d be great and then we’d be peers,” Ortega reflects. “There’s no team like the veteran military team. It’s ingrained. You have that commonality.”And with veterans helping veterans, the next graduate from Judge Johnson’s courtroom is surely just right around the corner.Our full special report in Spokane County Veterans Court, ‘The War Within,’ airs Saturday evening on Nonstop Local KHQ.
