Inmates Seek to Lift Bars to Employment

WOODBRIDGE

OVER the last year, extensive coverage in newspapers and on television and radio has helped to make “real people” of those Rahway State Prison inmates who, although behind bars, compete and perform in the outside world.

Early this year, James Scott defeated Eddie Gregory, top‐ranked contender for the World Boxing Association's light‐heavyweight title, in the prison gymnasium. Last spring, John Elerbe published a book of poetry, “In and Out the Big Dusty.”

And just recently, a group of Rahway “lifers” provided some juvenile offenders with a bitter and sobering glimpse of what might lie ahead of them. The “rap session” was the widely acclaimed television documentary, “Scared Straight.”

But, aside from these flashes of individual enterprise, what is the real outlook for the inmate who has no exceptional talent and is too old or too hardened to be lectured?

Richard Rowe, an inmate; and his former attorney, Brad Ferencz of Woodbridge, are working on both sides of Rahway's walls on what they believe is the single greatest contributing factor in New Jersey's 75 percent recidivism rate: A lack of jobs.

Their program, Ayuda — “aid” in Spanish — brings soon-to-be-paroled inmates together with representatives of some of the state's most prestigious corporations for job interviews very much like those on the outside. It is a program that is neither financed nor administered by the prison.

“What does a man do when he's released? . Where does he go?” Mr. Rowe asked during an interview in his cramped, cluttered office at the prison.

“Most companies aren't going to touch him. He's got little money and no contacts, but he's got to eat. So it's not surprising that be takes his gate money [the $50 issued to inmates upon release] and buys a gun. And he winds up back here.”

James Stabile, a spokesman for the state's Department of Corrections, which encourages and cooperates with Ayuda, said that the program had not suffered from recent publicity in connection with two work‐release inmates who were charged with a rash of burgalries during their daytime Jobs in the community. And Mr. Rowe said that Rahway State officials, who were skeptical of of Ayuda at first, would soon require all inmates to approach the Ayuda staff at some point during their incarceration to discuss their future.

The 38-year-old Mr. Rowe, who is serving a life sentence for several rapes and atrocious assault, began organizing Ayuda last fall with what he calls a “gift of blarney. “ His only other tool was a telephone provided by the prison, but with it he managed to enlist the financial support of dozens ofk companies and • organizations, including Westinghouse, Johnson & Johnson, Hoffman Beverages, Pathmark and the National Alliance of Business.

Last November, Mr. Rowe and executives of these organizations met inside the dull, yellow walls of Rahway to draft a plan fOr what is now Ayuda.

The executives agreed to send interviewers to the prison to meet inmates who had been prescreened by Ayuda's inmate staff. Prisoners approaching parole fill out, a questionnaire that, in addition to soliciting information about Job experience before incarceration and skills acquired during it, probes into an inmate's personal attitudes and fears.

Among the questions it asks are:

¶“Would you consider any type of employment ‘beneath you'?”

¶“Who do you feel is responsible for your present incarceration status?”

¶“If your fellow employees discovered you were an ex‐offender, would you choose to remain in the position?”

Recently, a visitor was permitted to observe a prescreening session at the prison. It was held in the tiny Ayuda of- fice, where the shouts of other inmates occasionally filtered in and the air was damp from nearby shower rooms and faulty steam radiators.

The inmate, Joseph Bates, 33, a Newark resident serving 27 months for armed robbery, was being interviewed by four members of the Ayuda staff.

“All right, Joseph,” said an interviewer, “Let's say that I'm an employer and I like your record. Why the hell should I trust you? I've got plenty of other qualified candidates. Why should I go with a loser?”

“There's no reason you should trust me,” Mr. Bates replied. “I probably wouldn't either if I were in your place. But the very, fact that I'm coming here and making the effort, that should say something. I'm willing to take just about any wage, and not many will say that.”

The Ayuda staff evaluated Mr. Bates in his presence.

“I think the man's sincere,” said Martines Moe. “He comes across well and he has a clean record at Rahway: think we ought to give him a recommendation.

The staff agreed that Mr. Bates, who is married, has two daughters and was formerly employed by a pest-extermination company, had an excellent shot at an inventory‐clerk job offered by Pathmark. It is typical of the employment that inmates have been able to obtain.

But placement has not been easy for the inarticulate and the long‐term unemployed. Of the 15 inmates placed since January, nearly all had had responsible employment before incarcer- ation, but few indicated on their questionnaires that they had taken advantage of the job training offered by Rahway. (“It's like 'shop’ class at school, said Mr. Rowe. “Very simple mechanical training that doesn't apply to half the jobs these men are going to see.”)

There have been failures in the program. Mr. Rowe said that one man had reported to his new job a day late‐and with liquor on his breath — and that Ayuda immediately prepared to cancel his contract.

But the employer, a chemical company, insisted that the man be given another chance, something Mr. Rowe was reluctant to do because he did not want to embarrass or Jeopardize the fragile Ayuda program.

“We don't want charity, and in most cases we're not offered it,” he said. “But a job is a difficult adjustment for an inmate, so for that reason some of our men have just received slaps on the wrist for things that other guys might be fired for.”

But Mr. Ferencz, Mr. Rowe's outside connection who donated legal services to have Ayuda incorporated, thinks there is more than altruism in the risks that employers are willing to take to hire former convicts.

“One man needed a helper to do menial tasks around his warehouse, and he'd never found anyone who'd stick with him,” Mr. Ferencz said. “lie called to tell us he's tremendously .satisfied with the former inmate we sent him. He appreciates the opportunity to work more than anyone who has never been in prison can really understand.

“Ayuda would be worth the effort even if we'd had many more failures in placing men. And the fact is that we fully expected to have many more failures. If we can reduce that staggering recidivism rate by 10, 5 or even 1 percent, it will have been worth it.”

The New York Times / Carl T. Gossett

Richard Rowe, left, a lifer, interviewing a fellow inmate up for release at Rahway State Prison