A High price…but worth every penny

It was dusk.  It was the quiet of the evening as my neighbor strolled up the driveway.  Folks just called him “The Sage”.  He was always a bit unkempt.  He revealed his worth in his posture and his mannerisms…not by his shoulders nor by his feet.

And, why did the Ol’ Sage have such a nickname?  His thoughts were thoughtful.  His facial expression was compassionate.  His old heart was still soft.  He was a friend who could be easily crushed.  Yet in the midst of that softness was a rock of truth and a country kind of richiousness.  He was approachable and never personally judgmental.  The Sage was a gentle man with a commitment to a better world…a world that he was in the process of building.

I saw the Pepsi in his right hand, a letter in his left and a look of tiredness on his face.  His question answered mine before I asked, “Is the campfire started yet?”  I suspected he had a few more heart-wrenching stories to tell.  I suspected my emotions were about to again be stretched and maybe a twisted a bit.  It was dusk…there was no time to lose.  We walked to the campfire site where the fire had already reached its height of warmth.  The lawn chairs were waiting, the sun was setting and the stories began.

Damaged human products was his topic for this evening.  He talked about young men who were defeated and sought to hold on to a pain-filled life style.  He talked about how he had spent the past few months trying to save lives; re-engage a few human spirits; and, restore hope in the hearts of a few of this nation’s young adults.  He talked about winning the race although he had never seen much of their success.  It was a series of stories like the steps in spiraling staircase that came at a price.  And, often he was the one who had to pay that price.

The stories began with a young man, who he called Derrick.  He was 18 when the Sage first met him in September of 2001.

He wanted out of a failing school experience.  He wanted a driver’s license.  He wanted more than he could handle and got help as he achieved each of his objectives.   He quit school.  He got his driver’s license.  He got several jobs over a period of months.  He was grateful and then he was fearful.  Then, when the love of his life ended and he was in trouble.

His escapades were extraordinary.  He burned a school flag one week after the 9/11 tragedy.  He “beat up a car” with his feet in front of a bunch of people.   And, the list went on.  As court cases accumulated, a life changing option appeared… The Lincoln’s Challenge Academy was his best option.  He attended the residential program for five and a half months and then went on to join the Navy.  He became a cook and remains there today.

It’s a great story the Ol’ Sage told…right?  Not quite!  The story became “dirty” as I realized the ol’ Sage was hated by Derrick’s dad.  The dad threatened to physically injure the Sage as Derrick completed his third month in his six-month residential program.  The dad wanted Derrick to know nothing about his threats to the old man.  The father knew if Derrick did know, Derrick would be so angry he would have collapsed.  My neighbor was placed in a position of withdrawing any further help while Derrick’s questions were left unanswered.  It was the price of his survival that he would continue on his “upward” road with a father he hated.  So, it was not a “clean” win for Derrick but he succeeded anyway.

The Sage paused for a moment and bowed his head as if to quietly remember Derrick and struggle with his own personal guilt as he recalled his abrupt and unexplained ending.  It was so unfair to Derrick as he sought every bit of support he could find.  It was so unfair to The Ol’ Sage who had invested so much in Derrick and was robbed of a share of Derrick’s success and an appropriate ending.

A year and a half passed with no word.  Then, one November afternoon while at the Mall, Derrick saw his old friend.  Events transpired and later that week Derrick and their mutual friend spent the early evening in St. Louis...seeing the sites and ending with another spaghetti dinner.  It was like the earlier days without the passage of time.  It was the ending they both needed.

It was an emotional moment for my friend as he ended with a good ending.  His only good ending for his stories this night.

But, The Sage perked up as he continued to Shawn’s story.  Shawn had returned to Springfield in February of 2002 from the drug treatment program.  He arrived with an “order of protection” still in force.

He was a 19-year-old who stood tall and proud yet was filled with doubts, fears and past hurts.  Shawn lived for another day of  “the same”.  His hopes were no more than shallow shells of pre-destined defeat.  The police saw him as a defiant hardened criminal.  Loved ones saw him as a "hot potato".  The ladies saw his Lexus and cell phone; his clean-cut, neatly dressed appearance; and, his challenging image.  He saw himself as an illusion.

Shawn was a young man looking for his next fast profit, beautiful woman or tank full of gas.  There was always a new problem occurring since he didn’t want a job.  There was always another police contact because he lived at night and associated with the dealers and thugs of the night.  There was always another “crash and burn” around the corner because he imposed his financial needs on loved ones and friends.  The illusion lived while Sheighn sought only one more day.

What a waist.  A life with no worthiness.   A hope squashed by fear.  Immobility as a life style.  “It was my mission”, according to the old man’s words, “…to walk down new roads with this dynamite young man”.  The challenge presented itself of how to reach him, alter those attitudes and begin him on a successful road.

The game began.

First, house him until he calms down, sees the error of his ways and takes new paths.   After a year full of failure, that direction was scrapped.

The second plan was then implemented…choices ready and waiting when crises struck.  That plan failed because each time Sheighn was able to resolve the crises.

The third plan was less appealing.  Let him crash and burn while the old man watched…an unbearable option.  But, the only remaining option that Shawn would allow.

A of today, Shawn has been released from the local hospital’s psychiatric unit and his whereabouts remains unknown.

And, there you go…a second sad story.  But, not the last one.

Chris was the old man’s “Millennium Cowboy” and the earliest acquaintance.  In 1999 Chris attended an 8th grade middle school classroom where he found fairly good academic success.

He completed The Lincoln’s Challenge Academy program in Champaign, Illinois in June 2002.  He had his G.E.D and soon acquired his driver’s license.  He grew up in a small rural town with an in-ground swimming pool in the backyard and a golf course across the street.  But, by 15, he saw himself as a city-boy and communicated in black-city dialect.

Nothing could get to Chris emotionally and he would admit it was so.  This bright young man sought to keep life under his control and as exciting as it could be.  His most traumatic times occurred when surprise situations presented themselves.  His most resented force in his life was the very force that would save him time after time…his mother.  The life style he sought could not exist beyond a brief period of time.  Thrills were sought as he walked slightly over the edge of legality.  He too wanted to live at night.

He had worked briefly at ten jobs.  He sought fast money.  He had a disregard for community laws.  He had a higher than average intelligence.  His family included a sister attorney, two married brothers and a mother who worked at a prison.  His father died when Chris was eight.

Chris would seek out the ol’ Sage when their was a break in his busy schedule or a problem that seemed unresolvable or when he just wanted to rest for a moment.  He would listen to his advice.  He would, on occasion, get a job.  But each job ended shortly after it began when Chris would not show-up for work, walk off the job or gravely offend the boss.  Accidents didn’t happen with Chris…each job ended right on Chris’s scheduled plan.

And the old man watched as Chris lost, one-by-one, the trust of friends and loved ones.  The old man watched as Chris, piece-by-piece, lost any remaining faith in himself.  As the curtain lowered, The Sage watched as Chris planned his ending performance…with more than 50 traffic tickets thrown in the back seat; check writing on his account with thousand’s of dollars over-drawn; non-attendance to his probation officer; and, never-ending nightlife.  What a waste.

The Sage paused for a moment to summarize his story thus far.  Two of three young adult lives apparently lost.  Two of three young men who could do all things except believe in themselves and seek a successful direction for their lives.  Two of three cadets, who were proud, confident and responsible young adults while attending The Lincoln’s Challenge Program.  Two of three young men, who left Champaign only to fall, tumble and break beneath the feet of our community.  I would swear I saw some tear drops hanging at the edge of his eye.  But, when I asked about the moisture, he shrugged off my concerns with a comment about the strong winds that had just abruptly picked-up at our campfire site.  I knew better.

  But his most tragic story was yet to be told.  There was more.  There was Aaron,

Aaron was 17 year old who was a “poor boy”.   He had passed into young adulthood while he slept.  He was always holding on to a successful dream that lived in his tomorrow’s.  When he got to live in a big city, he could find a job.  When he reached 16, he could get a job.  When he was 16, he couldn’t wait until he was 18 and get a job where he wanted to work.

It was within Aaron’s “protective armor” of tomorrow where he lived safely unemployed and untouched.  But, once he made a mistake while sitting in the ol” Sage’s kitchen drinking a coke.  “All hell broke lose” when he casually said that he would have gone to the Lincoln’s Challenge Program if his application had been completed a week earlier.

My neighbor asked Aaron if he wanted to go into the program today…if they would accept him today.  Aaron said, “Yes”.  My neighbor went to work.  He called the program’s director and asked if they would accept a young man a week late.  He said, “Yes”.  The race began with completing the application and planning the trip to begin in two hours.  The next thing Aaron knew, he was standing in the lobby of The Lincoln’s Challenge Program being searched and prepared to leave for his team.

He stayed for three days and returned home.  Two weeks later, he watched his mother being handcuffed and placed under arrest for trespassing.  A month later she was killed in a car accident.  His father lived in Nebraska, never showed interest in Aaron and his father was an alcoholic.  When his mom died, he lost his only secure living option.  When his mom died, he lost his home and his greatest supporter.  He began stumbling-about fearfully in Central Illinois…unemployed, homeless, immature, totally unskilled and often depressed.

Most folks would think that’s a terrible ending for a young man entering adulthood.  But there’s more…

He saw his arm muscle move to his back.  He saw a phone battery liquid threatening to poison his body.  He checked outside his windows before going to sleep.  He lifted all venetian blinds cautiously to see who was following him.  He was increasingly fearful of entering new situations or new places.  His long-term anxiety was entering new levels of damage.  Even is love of fishing couldn’t help him now.

One evening, while having dinner with the Ol’ Sage, Aaron was particularly stressed, paranoid and tragically vulnerable.  While we ate, he talked about the lady accross the room who was following him; the car that had been "on his trail" all day; the dangers of poisoned food; and, the cameras that lurked everywhere.  As the dinner ended, Aaron was given a choice…he could return to his residence or his friend would help him enter the hospital’s adolescent psychiatric unit.

The dinner ended and the return home began.  The car drove up to Aaron’s residence, Aaron opened the door, put one foot on the concrete…then brought his foot back into the car and asked for help to be admitted to the hospital.  He was admitted, stayed three days and left with a diagnosis of Marijuana induced paranoia (although he had not smoked for several weeks).  He left the hospital with his stepmother who drove him six blocks, dropped him off and returned to her warm home and family alone.  Later that evening, Aaron returned himself to the Youth Service Shelter.

Aaron had no ID, no driver’s license, no medical card and his Social Security Survivor’s benefits ended in December as The Youth Service Bureau fulfilled their legal obligations of service to this minor aged young man at his 18th birthday, December 14th, 2003.

As Aaron put it, “childhood” was gone…it was time to be a man.

Mike, on the other hand, came from an upper-middle class country family.  They lived next door to the maternal grandparents and it was the grandfather who owned much of the land surrounding their hometown.  Mike looked “preppy”.  He was a most cooperative young man while you watched but peer-pleasing when your back was turned.  There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eye and an immature adventurous spirit in his heart.  For years he and his family would spend vacations traveling in their motor home from bike race to bike race to satisfy Mike’s needs.

His mother called The Ol’ Sage when Mike had exhausted all the community help services they could find.  He was non-compliant at home and without any hopeful future.  It looked like he might be a great candidate for The Lincoln’s Challenge Program.  He left in January for Champaign.  His letters were full of strange new attitudes, like self-pride and inner personal strength.  He had new dreams of success and accomplishment.

All was poppy fields and blue skies until the Easter break in mid April.  He completed the three-day vacation and then didn’t want to return.  He stole his mother’s car and three hundred dollars.  Two days later, Mike returned home and we hustled to get him back to the Champaign program before the door closed.  We did and he graduated in June 2003.

Could that story be topped?  Oh yes.  After return home, he got a job as a custodian’s assistant in a residential facility near Springfield.  He was picking up some supplies in town with the agency truck and encountered an old friend.  He sold the agency van to his old friend for a bit of money.  He partied and was later arrested.  His second arrest occurred while driving…he was charged with the possessing "a controlled substance".

Of course court dates followed.  The result was an agreement to drop all the charges so that Mike could join the Navy.  The Navy accepted him, enlisted him and had a departure date…then they found two old police reports that occurred four years earlier, when Mike was 14.  The charges qualified as felonies but involved the breaking of a school window and the entry into a friend’s house to obtain a money jar.  Both issues never involved an arrest and were readily settled outside of legal proceedings.  But, both were felonies in the eyes of the law.  Mike sat at home for the past three months waiting for the Navy to decide if they will take him or not.  For Mike it was another occasion for the deadly “sit and wait” testing.  It’s a condition that had led many a young man to self-destruction, depression and loss of personal value.   So, we sit in a wait and see time.

Silence surrounded the campfire site.  We now sat late into the night watching the glowing coals that remained.  The warmth of the fire was still present but the bright light of lapping flames was long gone.  The moon was brightly shining and somehow it seemed to focus on that envelope that still remained in the old man’s hand.  I looked through my moisture filled eyes.  I searched to refocus on a less hurtful topic.  I asked the question…”What’s in the envelope?”

He gently smiled as he removed the papers and shared their contents… a letter from Derrick thanking him for his support; a poem written by Shawn thanking him for the old man’s help.  The contents included letters from Chris and Mike when they briefly saw their dream.  And, lastly, he shared a letter from the next student about to enter The Champaign program.

The Ol’ Sage smiled as he added, “life goes on and the next task awaits”.  It’s not a game for the weak or uncommitted.  It’s job for those who are still willing to risk, share and stand firm on the belief in the worth of a human life and the value to this nation when it welcomes another successful young citizen.

Relax...Private Smith can get you home safely.