'It's the best we can hope for'

Amanda Smith / Post Register - Eternal mysteries: Craig Tanner sips water from the canal near his home, effectively blessing it clean from all of its impurities so that he is able to pray on its banks in peace. Craig lives his day-to-day life in this world, but he feels blessed that his brain has allowed him glimpses into other worlds.

Craig Tanner is stable for now, and his parents hope things will stay that way

After torching his parents' home, Craig was sent to Mental Health Court instead of prison. But this is his last chance.

Last year, Craig Tanner went to jail for setting fire to his parents' Idaho Falls home. It was the low point of a long decline that began before he was diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1997.

He now is enrolled in the

Madison County Mental Health Court program. He is taking his medication, working and writing prolifically.

His parents, John and Martha Tanner, hope the fire was a turning point for their son and are buoyed by the progress he's making.

Only time will tell.

In a special three-day series, the Post Register focuses on the Tanners' struggle in the face of schizophrenia. Today is the final day of the series.

Amanda Smith / Post Register - A tentative peace: Craig Tanner hugs his mother after forgiving her for actions he thinks are evil. Though he sometimes resents her help, Martha Tanner feels little choice when dealing with Craig's mental illness, which compelled her to gain legal guardianship over him.

In summer 2006, Craig Tanner boarded a bus for Bellingham, Wash.

John and Martha Tanner were frantic.

They didn't know where their youngest son was or what had happened to him.

They'd tried the Bellingham Police Department and the Whatcom Counseling and Psychiatric Clinic, a nonprofit mental health clinic, to no avail.

Because of the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, people at the clinic legally couldn't tell them whether their son had been committed. Though they were his parents and felt responsible for him, John and Martha weren't his legal guardians.

In the eyes of the law, they didn't have a right to that information.

John worked the phone frantically, trying to coax information out of social workers, police officers, health clinic employees.

Was Craig OK? Was he taking his meds? Had he been committed to a state institution?

Amanda Smith / Post Register - From the ashes: Craig Tanner goes home to see his parents, John and Martha, at the Idaho Falls home he set ablaze a year ago. Though his condition has been a trial, they are happy to see Craig as stable as he's been in years.

According to the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, it wasn't any of the Tanners' business.

Fed up, John took the next logical step and went to Bellingham to search for his son.

Not resting after the nearly 875-mile drive, he arrived mid-afternoon July 19, 2006, with his friend Steve Watts, a private detective.

John immediately began hunting for his son.

The first stop was the Rainbow Center, in the heart of the city, which provides a variety of services for mentally ill adults.

A photograph in hand, John questioned workers there about Craig. He explained the situation, but the workers knew his story all too well. They heard it every day.

Still, it's easier to turn a concerned father away on the phone than when he's standing in front of you with a photo.

They admitted Craig was a regular at the Rainbow Center, although he wasn't there at the moment. Try the beach, they said, just a half-mile away.

John and Steve got the same story a few blocks away at Lighthouse Mission Ministries, a 24-hour walk-in crisis center for homeless men, women and children.

Craig wasn't there, they said. He's probably at the beach.

John and Steve scoured the waterfront all afternoon to no avail.

But with such conclusive evidence, John deduced that Craig had to be there some time.

At about 9:30 that night, they checked the shores again and found Craig near an overpass on Roeder Avenue, which runs along Bellingham Bay. He was clutching a blanket and looking for a place to sleep.

John got out of the car. It wasn't a joyful reunion.

"Go away; who are you?" Craig snarled.

Steve and John got back in the car and drove ahead of Craig a bit.

This time, Steve got out. He had a little more luck.

With John in the car, Steve and Craig talked in a nearby parking lot.

Craig's anger hadn't subsided.

John listened to Craig rant for 20 minutes. He couldn't hear what his son said, but he knew Craig didn't want him there.

At one point, his youngest child picked up a rock and almost threw it at a passer-by he thought was his father.

To Steve, the conversation was totally irrational except for one point: Craig thought his father had come to hospitalize him. And that was unacceptable.

He'd rather stay on the beautiful beach.

Eventually, Craig was committed to a hospital in Seattle where he stabilized enough to accompany John and Steve back to Idaho Falls. Here, he could get treatment through the Assertive Community Treatment program, something that wasn't available in Washington. The team of trained professionals checked on him regularly.

That night at Bellingham Bay wasn't the first time John encountered a psychotic son.

In November 1997, Craig was frantic.

He'd just returned to Idaho Falls on a bus from Seattle, scared he might hurt himself.

At the Tanners' Tasman Avenue home, Craig ran between his room upstairs and the basement, examining belongings from his childhood in a fit of frantic nostalgia.

He was a blur as he retraced his steps over and over for three hours.

His parents had never seen him this way.

Martha was tired and went to bed, thinking the most logical way to deal with her manic son would be after a good night's sleep.

But John stayed awake.

During a trip downstairs, Craig found a pair of in-line skates and wanted to glide outside.

John obliged and walked around the neighborhood as Craig rolled next to him on that frigid November night.

But Craig's mind was on more than just his childhood.

During the Greyhound bus ride to Idaho Falls, Craig had spent the night in St. Regis, Mont. There was something special, magical about that place. He had to return.

He wanted to take the blue Toyota Tercel, but his dad refused, telling him, "Craig, don't do that or I'll call the police."

The threat didn't stop him. The minute his parents let down their guard, Craig, 24, commandeered the Tercel and drove to St. Regis.

John, however, made good on his threat. He reported that Craig had stolen his car.

A day later, Montana Highway Patrol officers arrested Craig on Interstate 90. His shoes, coat and the car were all missing.

It wasn't easy for John and Martha to see Craig arrested. Their friend, Dr. Thana Singarajah of the Family Care Center, counseled them that Craig's arrest was a blessing, a chance for the couple to get Craig into treatment, which he had never allowed them to do.

Craig was extradited back to Idaho Falls, but local authorities weren't eager to admit a person in the throes of psychosis.

It was John and Martha's first experience with how ill-prepared the criminal justice system was to deal with the mentally ill.

To Craig, anything was preferable to another mental hospital. Even jail.

That's why he set fire to his parents' house.

But after a month in the Bonneville County Jail on charges of burglary and arson, Craig discovered it wasn't the escape he'd hoped for. He often refused to take his 200 milligrams a day of Seroquel, a drug that provided mixed results.

Sometimes he'd feel really good; other times really low.

His jailers and cell mates weren't interested in Anne, Tori Amos, the Eternities and bones turning to gold -- all things that mattered most to him.

Nor did jail free him of John and Martha Tanner, his enemies and tormentors.

They were trying to renew guardianship, which had led him to set fire to their home in the first place. He cursed them aloud at his Nov. 2 guardianship hearing.

It didn't help. Thirteen days later, their guardianship was renewed.

Craig greeted this and other unwanted news by smearing excrement on his cell wall.

His jailers were losing their patience.

The next month, Craig had his preliminary hearing on charges of burglary and arson.

His commitment hearing began the next day, and on Dec. 15, he was taken to State Hospital South.

In Blackfoot, his doctor started him on Zyprexa, an anti-psychotic drug approved by the FDA in 1996, and additional treatment.

On Christmas Eve, Martha and John brought his brother and sister-in-law, Bryce and Britt, and his sister, Clare, to visit.

Craig was happy to see his siblings but was still angry with his parents.

It was the same on New Year's Day, when Clare visited him and reported that Craig seemed to be obsessed with his anger toward his parents.

At the end of January, the drugs started kicking in and his attitude began to soften.

Craig was arraigned before District Judge Richard St. Clair. In a plea agreement, the state agreed to drop the burglary charge and reduce the arson charge to second degree.

Asked whether he had anything to say in his own defense, Craig said, "I didn't want to commit suicide. It was a cry for help."

At the recommendation of the prosecutor, Craig was sentenced to Mental Health Court instead of a maximum penalty of 15 years in prison and a $75,000 fine.

Craig was deemed fit to leave State Hospital South in April. He moved to Rexburg and is now in Mental Health Court.

It's his last chance. If this doesn't work, he will go to prison.

On Sept. 12, Craig graduated from the first phase of Mental Health Court.

It passed with little fanfare.

Seventh District Judge Brent Moss acknowledged the report from his caseworker, who said Craig was showing good progress, that he understood his symptoms and where to go for help when he feels them coming on.

Craig sat mostly silent, acknowledging Moss' praise by saying, "Thank you."

It was a far cry from the crazed, wild-haired man who set fire to his parents' house.

This is Craig on his meds.

He's much the same at his therapy group. At peace, in control, feeling somewhat apart from the others who in his view seem to have more trouble acclimating socially.

His days are structured.

Mental Health Court is every other Wednesday at 8 a.m. Group therapy is an hour every morning. A member of the Assertive Community Treatment team stops by every day to make sure he's taking his meds.

He's taking Clozapine, the anti-psychotic medication of last resort.

Craig knows the court is watching him. When he's not washing dishes at a local restaurant, Craig sits at his trailer and writes poetry and his meditations, which he's compiled into a book called "Crystal Blue Sea: The Spiritual Self."

Sometimes he walks or rides his bike. Staying sober is a priority. He hasn't had a drink since the shot he downed last year the night of the fire.

Occasionally he stops at the canal near his home to get a drink of water. It's never harmed him in the past. He's still certain it never will.

For now, he is committed to what he calls "the common world."

His feelings toward his parents, though, are mixed.

His meds allow him to function in this world, but he still feels blessed by the eternal mysteries his brain has allowed him to see.

And his parents' let's-get-this-problem-solved approach still annoys him.

"I don't know what to think of those people," he says. "They're just too rational. They don't have any reverence for the magic. They don't have any reverence for the divine. They kind of let me down in terms of the mystery and beauty of life. The beauty of creation belongs to itself. It is not to be possessed or owned."

Martha's response?

"He's told us that a lot," she said. "I can accept that. It's true."

John and Martha Tanner are back in their Tasman Avenue home.

During the 10 months of remodeling, they lived at a friend's house and a hotel.

Some items were so damaged by smoke -- carpet, furniture and drywall -- they could not be salvaged. Other things, such as pictures, they saved by cutting off the scorched, black edges.

It's been a tough year. But for all the conflict, they're happy to see Craig as stable as he's been in years.

They attended all of Craig's court hearings and have monitored him from afar. They've visited him in Rexburg and took him to dinner for his 34th birthday. And John has helped Craig with his book.

So for now, they've reached a tentative peace.

But John and Martha also know that could change instantly if he stops taking his Clozapine and his half-dozen other medications. They've weathered those times before.

A family friend, Rick Huber of Twin Falls, has advised John and Martha to leave Craig alone and let him hit rock bottom so he'll seek treatment on his own. He believes their interference may be the root of Craig's ambivalence toward his parents.

John and Martha acknowledge that. But they also are his parents and love him. They don't want to take a chance that he will never recognize his illness or his need for help and end up maimed or dead.

Martha believes the fire, jail and the aftermath were the lows Craig needed to hit to make changes in his life.

What lies ahead, though, is anyone's guess.

Earlier this month, the journal Nature published an article about a clinical trial involving about 200 schizophrenia patients and an experimental drug from Eli Lilly that reduced symptoms without the serious side effects of current treatments.

Counselors say what's most important after a situation is stabilized with medication, counseling and employment is for a mentally ill person to "buy into" his or her recovery.

It takes time, it takes work, and there are no guarantees. Even with Craig.

"He's got a lot to give. He does. He really does," Martha said.

John and Martha are just happy to see Craig as stable as he's been in years.

"Until science comes up with something better, this is the best we can hope for," John said.

Craig's poetry

Illness

Seven degrees sideways from nowhere

A mind torn and jumbled unaware

Wandering streets familiar lost

Lose myself and know the cost

Now is distant, Now is near

The life I love flashes through a bloody tear

Waking in a dream not asleep

Demons speak and dark angels reap

Ether fire crash and roar

Drink it all for there is horror more

The path of life, its way is long

Embrace thy weakness, there in be thy strong

A rock will break, but a willow bend

Accept Human fruit for love to mend

Question?

The little boy with blowtorch eyes

Looks inside himself

And flames there did arise

Burning hole of sun's own laughter

Would he fall or find love here after

Yet to degrees he did inspire

A touch of warmth in times most dire

And in his mind contemplated still

Was there a power in the universe that could stop God's own will?

Anguish of love

Only fools fall in love

Only the wise survive it

I saw a bleeding dove

Such a jealous mistress

I know not who she is

Only that her name is Grace

Perhaps my faith in her is madness

But madness is my trade

But what I believe in Her

Whiteness to the seventh shade

Only fools fall in love

Angels

Do you remember the night the Angels fell?

One fell into horror, one fell into the night

One fell into glory, one fell into the night

One fell into horror, and then this terrible crystal blue light

Do you remember the night the Angels fell?

One fell in to Mercy, and one fell into hell

Where to get help

NAMI Idaho: (800) 572-9940

NAMI Upper Valley: This support group meets the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month in the basement conference room of the Idaho Falls Recovery Center, 1957 E. 17th St.

Region VII Mental Health: 528-5700

EIRMC Behavioral Health Center: 227-2100, (800) 209-8405

New Beginnings Inc. Mental Health Center: 522-1904

Psychological Services Associates: 552-0490

Rehabilitative Health Services: 522-8899

Reliance Mental Health Services PC: 525-8339

Vista Family Services: 552-0355

CLUB Inc.: 529-4673

A to Z Family Services: 524-7400

Above and Beyond PSR: 521-7225

Access Point Family Services: 522-4026

All Star Counseling Services: 200-7377

Behavioral Reform: 524-4535

Beehive Rehab and Counseling: 612-5035

Child and Family Resource: 356-4911

Child Family Solutions: 745-0150

Children's Center: 529-4300

Children's Supportive Services: 529-4300

Empowerment Counseling: 527-3344

Family Care Center: 552-4958

Family Resource Center: 552-1222

Family Solutions: 529-2920

Firm Foundations: 251-7885

Healthy Places Counseling: 524-4818

Human Dynamics and Diagnostics: 522-0140

Innovative Health Care Concepts: 528-8052

Joshua D. Smith and Associates: 524-5607

The Living Farm: 523-4858