CRUSADER OF THE LOSTATTORNEY CHICK ARNOLD'S CAMPAIGN ON BEHALF OF THE MENTALLY ILL IS ALL UPHILL

Jodi Weisberg, who works mental-health cases for the county on a full-time basis as a public defender, says she has more clients sitting in the hospital than ever. She's not optimistic about the future.

"It's sort of like working with a human dump," she says. "It's like when people are no longer useful to society . . . you just dump them. It's a human landfill that I work in."
Chick Arnold traverses that landfill like an altruistic rag picker ready to salvage any soul.

On the day he visits Michael the swimmer at the state hospital, Arnold stops by the Juniper unit. He stands to the side in a dim hallway, watching as patients are herded from group therapy into the dining hall. None of them appears to notice Arnold, out of place in his dress shirt and tie. Look at their hands, look at the way they walk, he whispers. Heads down, arms hang heavy as lead. As much a result of the institutionalization as the medication.

Meanwhile, the Cholla unit, the maximum security wing at the hospital where Michael is now staying, reminds Arnold of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. After Michael has been led back to a supervised room, Arnold asks to tour the unit; it's been redesigned since his last visit. The doctor escorts him through secured doors and down a narrow hallway decorated with brightly colored posters. The posters are framed under glass, then bolted to the walls. Strong disinfectant doesn't quite mask the odor of urine, but otherwise the unit and its occupants seem clean and well-cared-for. Arnold compliments the doctor.

On this weekday morning in early spring, patients shuffle, childlike, across the courtyard's sun-splashed asphalt. Most are heavily medicated. Some doze on concrete benches. Others approach Arnold, peering at him and mumbling questions only they understand. He pauses briefly, then continues through to an adjacent building and out into the street and refreshing freedom. The patients stay behind. Way over their heads, chain link stretches the length of their courtyard. Even the sky is fenced.