A lifetime project

Despite his trouble maker reputation Don had something special. It took six decades to be recognized

by Dave Siemienski

He wasn’t like the rest. Yes, he struggled with the typical coming-of-age issues of that era, but somehow his were closer to a crisis stage than the others.  He had no father and his mother was an alcoholic. He got in trouble, drank, and did drugs at a very early age. He was kicked out of school, and the parks. The police knew him well down at the station.

So what did I see? It’s hard to explain, but young people sometimes show signs of gifts that can often take a long time before maturing. The teenage years are particularly dangerous for the direction a young life can take. Temptations and peer pressure can profoundly determine the ultimate destination.

I saw potential in Don. Maybe it was just an intuitive thing, I can’t explain it. I had just moved out of my bachelor pad in Manhattan Beach, and taken a job in a neighboring beach city that needed a supervisor for their Teen Center. They were desperate for some strict teenage programming that would keep the juveniles of their city out of trouble. I had come from a South Bay city a few miles inland, and had experience dealing with gangs, racial diversity and unrest.

This was in the late 1970s. The nation had just come through the sexual revolution, and Viet Nam. The drug culture that was growing steadily from the aftermath. This particular Rec & Parks facility was devoted strictly to teens still in school. But it had been slandered badly by the warnings from parents, schools, and police that this was a drug hang out throughout for delinquents with poor home lives. These at-risk “kids” were mostly the collateral damage of the “sex, drugs, and rock’n roll” culture that poured over into the ‘70s. My assignment was to repair the horrible reputation that building had as a renovated market that was now the last refuge for the teen “stoners” of that small town.

I decided to dedicate my initial energy on Don as my first “project.”  If I could somehow get through to somebody perceived as a “lost cause,” I could eventually change the whole atmosphere of this Teen Center. 

My overall priority was to first get this rundown teen hang-out a makeover so the  community would feel safe having their kids go there again. 

The recreation department director got me the full support of the Parks Maintenance yard.

My first steps were to put in a new floor, which was burnt by cigarettes from years of letting the kids smoke in this facility. Then came new wall paneling for the walls, dented by tossed pool balls, and a new ceiling, punctuated by cue sticks.

My inherited staff told me, “Hey Dave, you won’t be able to stop them from smoking here.”  I said “Watch me. There’s a new sheriff in town.”

I may have been young (in my 20s), and naïve to the ways of adolescent behavior, but I was enthusiastic about inspiring youth to enjoy activities that don’t include alcohol, drugs, and mischief. I came from strict parents, and a sheltered Catholic school background where the nuns were stricter and more forceful than even mom and dad.

I experimented with field trips, and sports. When I finally (after many months) changed some minds of families, schools, and the police in town, I started to gain attendance at my junior-high dances. I decided to book live bands. In some of my discussions before and after dances with these young musicians, I realized they all had issues with places to practice their loud tunes. Since my building was a stand alone, and just outside our recreation park, we had nobody near us to complain about noise. So I invited them to practice at the Teen Center in the afternoons. They could play as loud and as long as they wanted. 

We turned a storeroom into a weight room. We bought comfortable chairs and couches. I upgraded to a large screen TV. I transformed the rough, sloped asphalt parking lot into a basketball court with 9-foot hoops. High school players flocked to our court. We started floor hockey in our big lobby with plastic pucks.  The floor also could be transformed into a wiffle ball field.  The Teen Center was jumping, and soon the whole City found out that teens are not always the uncontrollable troublemakers that they are usually thought to be.

Don was one of those who found a way in this setting to use his physical and personality talents for more than misconduct. When I spoke with him, I realized that he had wanted to play sports as an adolescent, but his mom moved around, and he was placed in various foster homes and halfway houses. He related horrible abuse stories. When I saw him throw a baseball, I knew right away that he could pitch. Had he ever played? He said, “No, I never stayed any place long enough.”

I convinced my superintendent to let me buy him a glove, and began catching for him out in our yard. He could really throw hard. I was able to get him on a pony league team in town, and he began to change his friends and some of his former ways. He loved using our new weight room.

After many months and a lot of maturity, he was getting closer to the age where he was too old for the Teen Center. Since he was on the move again anyway, I had one last sit-down talk with him. “Don, I have always seen a lot of potential in you, but I have no way to know where you are going.  Please come back here someday, and show me something that you have done for yourself that shows me you care about your future.”  

Six months later, he showed up at the Teen Center. He handed me a piece of paper. It was his  GED diploma. He had been kicked out of school when met him. He took the initiative to finish high school on his own. We talked for a while, and then he was gone again. He went away for a long time.  Now I can tell you “…the rest of the story.”

I framed that GED diploma and hung it on my office wall. Many years later, I retired from Recreation & Parks, and my wife and I became owners and operators of franchise ice cream stores.  

Long after those recreation days were behind me, I received a letter from Don. He was in prison, … doing “25-to-life.” It had been nearly 20 years since I hung his GED Certificate on my office wall. It is not important what he was charged with, or why I believe he never received justice. All that was significant was I was the only person he could turn to for help. His mom had died while he was incarcerated. He felt like he was locked up and society had thrown away the keys.

There is not much sense in going into the 20-plus years that have passed since I received Don’s letter. But during those decades of incarceration, I helped him get a paralegal education. After that he won cases for fellow prisoners. After being praised by a presiding judge, one of his arguments was published as a legal precedent. 

Don is now nearing college graduation with a double-major. He is due to be released later this year, when he will step into a six-figure position in therapy.

He is now in his sixties, a few years older than my oldest son. ER