'This place shows you how great life is'
Moving on: Men prepare for life on the outside.
By Dan Cortez of The News-Sentinel
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And whenever Hall, 47, needed something done, it was done for him.
"Being a drug dealer is like being God," he laughs. He's walking through downtown, pulling deep from a Pall Mall. "If it's cold out and you want your car warmed up, tell somebody to do it and then you throw them a little (cocaine). You'd be surprised what addicts will do for cocaine."
But that's over, and now Hall has to get a real job, if he can find one. This next one probably won't pay as well as his previous occupation. Plus, he will have to actually work this time. He's been in the Fort Wayne Rescue Mission's restoration program four months. Only two left.
"I'm preparing myself for it. Minimum wage. I haven't had a real job in 20 years," he says.
They're all preparing themselves for the future at the mission. For jobs. For relationships. For life.
But there's doubt. What skills can these men offer the real world? Some don't have high school diplomas. They haven't worked eight-hour days in years. Some are still dealing with addictions. Many of them are convicted felons. Addictions might fade, but criminal histories don't.
Paul Reichert came to the mission on West Superior Street directly from prison in April. After six months of group meetings, classes and homework in the restoration program, "I should be done. I'm getting ready to put in an application for graduation," he says.
He used to work at Eagle Plastics in Ashley and had other factory jobs. Now at 46, he has to deal with a degenerative disc condition. And he has a child exploitation conviction on his record.
"I'm scared as hell to get back on the streets because I don't know what to expect," he admits. "I'm scared to try to get back on my feet because I was slipping the way I was before.
"I'm going to fill out applications and pray to God that I get something. I don't have nobody to fall back on."
An eye to the future
The men can live at the mission for more than six months, as long as they continue to look for work.
Thomas Baublet is a recovering alcoholic who has been at the mission for a year. He also suffers from bipolar mood swings, as do a number of residents. He has a fiancee and two children to provide for. He graduated from the restoration program six months ago, but hasn't found work.
The financial strain has forced him to drop the idea of taking college courses toward a culinary degree. He wants to be a chef and takes over the mission kitchen when Lorenzo Kinnie - its head - is gone.
"Lorenzo gives me a lot of responsibility. It's kind of exciting to know he trusts me to get the job done," Baublet says.
Kinnie also got an informal interview for Baublet with a man from a local IHOP restaurant. Baublet spoke with the man at the mission for about 10 minutes. No offer was made, which was disappointing for Baublet.
But he has an idea.
"I'm going to have Lorenzo tell him I'll work the first week for free, just so he can see what I can do," Baublet says.
Part of the journey is to help others
For someone who used to rely on getting people addicted to cocaine, Hall has made quite a change. Now, he seems more interested in helping people.
"I'm trying to do something different. I'm trying to do something positive," Hall says.
When he first got to the restoration program at the mission, he began to speak with Jerry Watson, who was in the T-dorm for transients. Watson had just spent almost 11 years in prison for dealing cocaine to an undercover Fort Wayne Police officer.
Watson wanted out of the mission. Hall saw a project.
"He bothered me every day," Watson says as the two smoke cigarettes.
Watson, 53, has a high school diploma, went to Detroit Business College for three years and is a licensed barber.
"He's lucky," Hall says. "Most guys don't have something like that to fall back on."
A friend has promised Watson a job at his shop when Watson is ready. He's practiced his styling skills on several of the men at the mission. He believes he's ready now, even though it's been only four months.
"Sitting here doing nothing is driving me crazy," he says.
He is supremely confident he has a new approach. The temptations will be out there, he says, but that doesn't mean he will fall for them again.
"It's an amazing transformation. I do fit in society," he says as he looks out his second-floor window. "I'm a sick person, I know that. But it's what I choose to do when I get out of here. They think of us as guys on the streets. But there are really fantastic people in here."
He's gone from the mission a short time later.
Looking at the big picture
Hall stays. He works at the mission's discount store, Bargains Galore on South Lafayette. He moves furniture, a good way to maintain his sturdy upper body. The store sells clothes and other household items to the public and residents and graduates of the program.
The job is not glamorous, and the men get only $15 every Tuesday for doing their chores. But Hall looks at the big picture.
"I know I can leave, but I feel like I have to do this," he says.
Hall finished serving three years at "the Farm" in June for cocaine possession with the intent to distribute. He picked up his GED. As much as he is worried about his future, he tries to open people's eyes to what he now sees.
"I'm loving my sobriety," he says. "All your senses are sharpened. This place shows you how great life is."
While walking past the downtown Community Corrections building one afternoon, he sees a man he knows.
"Hey man, what's going on?"
The man ignores him, looking for his ride.
"You working your program? You sticking with it?" Hall asks with a smile.
The guy looks past him. Hall tells him to keep working and walks past.
"I used to deal to him," Hall finally says.
Now Hall seems to be dealing something else. But first, the messenger has to finish his own transformation.
He has a new outlook, a girlfriend and children who are re-establishing a relationship with him. They buy him the latest clothes.
"They keep me looking good," he says with a smile.
And maybe, at 47, a former drug dealer has a future.
"Since I've done this program, it's opened my eyes," he says. "It's amazing what you can do if you apply yourself."
The men
* Jerry Watson, 53. Graduated from Central Catholic High School in Fort Wayne. Spent 11 years in prison for dealing drugs to an undercover officer.
* Paul Reichert, 46. Worked at Eagle Plastics in Ashley, but now suffers from degenerative disc disease.
* Reuben Hall , 47. Former cocaine dealer, was caught with drugs in his car on Interstate 69.
* David Dixon, 45. Engineer who owned his own business. Suffers from depression.
* Rod McCreery, 35. Sent to prison three times, recovering drug user and alcoholic.
