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Major Cities in Georgia with Drug Rehab and Treatment Centers:
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866-407-4380
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Drug Rehab Georgia
is here to help people with drug and/or alcohol abuse problems in Georgia. find treatment options. Due to our diverse networking system we can find a treatment option tailored to each individuals specific situation and needs. We are able to provide all phases of recovery included but not limited to, alcohol and/or drug intervention, drug and/or alcohol detox, in-patient treatment, out-patient treatment, short term treatment (30 days or less), long term treatment (90 days or longer).
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We design personalized treatment programs to provide each abuser with the greatest chance of a successful recovery outcome. Our comprehensive networking system works hand in hand with all of the drug treatment centers in Georgia. At Drug Rehab Georgia we know that each individual is unique and are treated as such. Deciding upon a treatment option in Georgia, or anywhere can be a daunting task for any individual or family, we will guide you through each step of a comprehensive treatment plan for you or your loved one. We are determined in our mission, that every drug and/or alcohol abuser in Georgia. that has a desire to change their life will be given a chance to recover from their addiction and we are dedicated to ensuring that they are given the opportunity to do so.
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We realize that each individual in Georgia. is in a different financial situation and we will find treatment options for each individual regardless of their financial situation. No matter what your financial situation everyone will receive the treatment help they are looking for.
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866-407-4380
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'Holistic' Georgia attorneys preach a defense that goes far beyond courtATLANTA - In a converted Corvair shop in a rundown part of downtown Atlanta, a group of lawyers and social workers tinker with the way the justice system treats indigent defendants.
The Georgia Justice Project's guiding principle is something more likely heard at a day spa than a nonprofit legal center: Treat each client with a holistic approach.
That philosophy guides this small band of attorneys, counselors and volunteers whose mission continues outside the courtroom, long after the trial is over - win or lose.
Social workers track each defendant's progress and refer clients from the streets to halfway houses or shelters. Staffers set up seasonal reunions with clients years after the court date, and help train and place them in steady jobs.
And a few clients, those just released from prison and desperately seeking a steady gig, walk down the hall to an adjoining garage where they suit up for New Horizon Landscaping, the yard service with a cutting-edge slogan: "Grass Roots Justice."
A similar message of holistic law is preached by the Knox County Public Defender in Knoxville, Tenn., which opened up a community law center to tackle the reasons why defendants land in their situations. In New York, the Bronx Defenders office aims to treat the challenges such as drug addiction and mental illness that plague their clients with the slogan: "Once a Bronx Defender client, always a Bronx Defender client."
Lawyers across the country are rethinking the profit-oriented goals learned in law school and are adopting more holistic approaches to work out the myriad social circumstances that lead to criminal activity.
"Despite the fact that they are successful with earning salaries, lawyers are not seeming satisfied with what they have to do. They are looking for alternative ways to continue practicing law, but in a way where they can sleep more comfortably at night," said David Hall, a professor at the Northeastern University School of Law, who is writing a book on the spiritual roots of the legal profession.
The Georgia Justice Project, however, is unique because it takes no government money - it runs entirely off of private donations.
At the program's helm is Doug Ammar, the passionate, fast-talking attorney whose eyes widen as he talks about the project's mission. He calls his group an "unlikely mix," but they're all somehow drawn to the cause.
For disillusioned attorneys burnt out on corporate life or looking for a higher calling, the project is often a way station of sorts. Some stop over only briefly while figuring out their next move, though a few, like Ammar, make careers out of it.
For desperate defendants, it's a last stop, a furtive attempt to break the "destructive cycle" of crime and poverty Ammar describes.
They are among the neediest - and the Justice Project's staffers make sure of that.
About half walk the clients off the street and into the program's office, a sleek building in the shadows of the Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site. The rest nervously call the office, uncertain of their next step.
Each client must sign a commitment to enter drug counseling, earn a high school diploma, find a job or address some other long-bubbling problem to better their lives.
In heated Wednesday afternoon meetings, debate often rages as Ammar and his staff of four lawyers and three full-time counselors decide which cases to take and which to drop. Ultimately, about 80 percent of cases are rejected.
For each client, the staffers ask themselves the same questions: "Can we make a difference legally and can we make a difference personally?"
Ricks Anderson fit the bill. Soon after graduating from DePaul University's law school in 1977, he snorted cocaine. Within four years, he and his wife and children were living in a run-down motel on Chicago's southside. Anderson contracted HIV from sharing needles and soon was bouncing from city to city, working in migrant farms, sleeping in streets.
While in jail on drug charges, he met John Pickens, who later resigned from an Atlanta law firm to start the justice project in 1986. Pickens represented Anderson in court, then hired him as a paralegal to try to get his life back on track, but a scared Anderson fled. Later, after an all-night drug binge, he awoke frightened in a downtown train station.
"That day, why that day I don't know, but I decided I'm getting off drugs. I ate breakfast, rededicated my life to Christ and never looked back," he said.
When he got out of treatment, the Georgia Justice Project embraced him as a part-time counselor. Who knew the struggles of the streets better than a would-be lawyer caught in the downward spiral of drug addiction?
"They're some remarkable people," said Anderson, now a facility manager at an outreach program to Atlanta's homeless.
Only about 16 percent of the project's clients wind up back behind bars. That's in contrast to national reincarceration rates of around 50 percent.
Part of the project's success is credited to the fact its staffers have the luxury of picking their own clients. They're not obligated like the government to take all who walk through the office's doors.
Yet Ammar says the program's commitment to each defendant is the secret to its success. Long after the court date, clients in prison still get Christmas packages from staffers and many owe their jobs to the project.
The landscaping company that started in the back of an old van now has four trucks and a dozen employees. Ammar expects the company to make $300,000 in proceeds this year - the first profit the outfit has earned in its 12 years.
As word of the project spreads, Ammar's popularity on the lecture circuit grows. Lawyers in Athens, Ga., San Francisco and Rhode Island are trying to start similar programs. The project may yet take an even broader stage, as a script has been written for a television series based on the lawyers' work.
When he talks of his next goals - to expand the office - Ammar's eyes grow even wider and he leans forward excitedly.
"We're nonpolitical. We don't write policy papers. We just try to help people. We're interested in helping them help themselves out."
Drug Rehab by County
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