Skid Row Options : ‘Crossroads’ Program Guides Homeless Toward Ways to Escape Gangs and Drugs

Monday afternoon, Skid Row. A balding, one-armed woman in a hospital gown and black denims snuggles up on the pavement against a wall of the long-abandoned Los Angeles County Engineering Building, her head resting on one of the four plastic grocery bags stuffed with her belongings.

Across South Main Street, outside the Union Rescue Mission, about 50 transients chatter, panhandle and mill about the mission’s open front doors. The stench of sweat and urine mingles with the sense of desolation that pervades the hot summer air around them.

Two flights up, Ken McGill is doling out hope.

“There’s a whole world of options and opportunities available to you,” said McGill, pointing at a small blackboard, his eyes leveled at the the six mission residents who have filed into the small room. “You don’t have to use drugs or rush somebody and take their money or snatch some lady’s purse. You don’t have to be homeless.”

Looking for a Chance

Silence engulfs the men, the latest participants in the mission’s intensive two-year rehabilitation program called “Crossroads.” They are here for a second chance at life, but they are sometimes hesitant about taking it.

Finally, a hand slips into the air.

“Randy?” said McGill, nodding in the direction of the raised hand.

“Yeah, I have a question,” began 21-year-old Randy Taylor. “We’re in a mission now, but are we still considered homeless?”

McGill pauses for a second before responding.

“I would say, yes, because you don’t have your own addresses yet, no place to call your own.”

“Well, if we’re still homeless, why don’t y’all help us to be un-homeless, to get out of the mission and get a place to stay?” asked Taylor.

There are muted groans. The other five look away. Even as McGill begins to answer, one of them, Carlton Perkins, interrupts.

“The mission doesn’t have to help you find a home,” Perkins said coolly. “That’s one of the reasons you’re in this program: to help yourself. This program is the foundation, but you’re here to learn to do things for yourself. The mission can’t--and shouldn’t have to--do everything for you.”

Charting a Path

So goes life at Crossroads, the Union Rescue Mission’s 11-year-old program designed to give men ages 18 to 26 alternatives to lives ravaged by gangs, drugs and homelessness. Known officially as the “Crossroads School in Christian Development,” the program--the only one of its kind in Los Angeles--is an intensive three-phase process that attempts to drive home to desperate men the importance of education, discipline, socialization skills and independence.

Christianity is heavily promoted, too, said McGill, although “the Bible isn’t crammed down anyone’s throat.”

The first phase of the program, McGill’s classes, takes place in Los Angeles. The men attend Bible classes at the mission on Mondays and Wednesdays, recreational classes at the YMCA on Tuesdays and Thursdays and reading sessions at the public library on Fridays.

The second phase involves a 10- to 18-month stay in bucolic Midpines, Calif., near Yosemite National Park. There, Crossroads participants receive psychological counseling, vocational training and wilderness survival experiences. They also learn to cope with such everyday responsibilities as arriving at work promptly. In the third phase, participants return to society under the auspices of a church group that helps them find homes, jobs and schooling.

Although all the phases are important, the program’s director says the first is critical. “That’s when a person is coming out of gangs or off drugs,” said John Paris, who oversees the entire program from Midpines. “It’s crucial in helping them make the transition from the streets to a program that is challenging and tough.”

McGill, who became the chaplain of the program two years ago, said he tries to “tap into the men’s motivation to do something with their lives. If that motivation isn’t there, I try to create motivation in the men to turn over a new leaf.”

McGill said most of the participants are men who have grown tired of life on the streets.

“Many of them have come close to losing their lives or have just grown sick of being out there with no place to go,” he said.

Some May Return

Participation has fallen off slightly because of the agreeable climate and the boom in the crack cocaine trade, said McGill, who, nonetheless, expects Crossroads attendance to pick up again soon.

“It’s easy to live a life on the streets when you can make a lot of money selling coke,” he said. “But when it cools off, a lot of guys who use and sell are going to come looking for someplace to stay. We’ll be here, too.”

Although there are no statistics to measure the program’s overall performance, Paris said almost all the participants benefit to some degree.

“We really haven’t come up with a good way to chart our success statistically,” said Paris, “because our overall goal is to help a man make progress socially, spiritually, vocationally and educationally. Almost 100% of the men do make progress in one of those areas. It’s a rough estimate, but I’d say about 40% of the men we track are doing well in almost all of those areas.”

Some Don’t Advance

But not everyone makes it from the mission to Midpines.

“You get some hard-core guys in here who are just looking for a place to stay until things cool off in their neighborhood,” McGill said. “At times, there are guys you just can’t reach or who aren’t ready. They’ll be back on the streets, but they may file some of the things I say in the back of their mind and it may come to the forefront later. But I know I’m not batting a thousand.”

For instance, McGill said, one man left his current Crossroads group after receiving a new pair of sneakers from his mother.

“He probably sold them for some coke to smoke,” he said. “No sooner had his mother brought him the shoes and left than he was out of the door. He hasn’t been back, and I don’t think he will be back.”

The remainder of McGill’s class knows these types of stories well. Many of their lives are filled with tragic tales of hustling, “gang banging” and scraping up enough money for “a dollar beam,” as they refer to the pebbles of crack purchased for $1.

But at least some seem determined to break the cycle.

“I’m here because I had a drug problem,” said 23-year-old Monzell Scott, a former member of the Crips gang who leaves for Midpines on Tuesday. “That’s why I can’t wait to go up to that ranch (in Midpines). I’m ready to go get myself together.”

Education Sidetracked

Carlton Perkins, a 23-year-old from Baldwin Hills, said he lost a car, an apartment and an education at UC Berkeley because of alcohol and drug abuse.

“I was drinking a lot at Berkeley and I never went to class so I got kicked out,” said Perkins, who said he was majoring in the political economy of industrial societies at the university. “After I got kicked out, I stayed there and started abusing cocaine. I lost my car and my apartment. After a while, I just quit on life.”

Perkins returned home to a family he describes as “like the Cosbys,” but eventually left after his habit began to take its toll.

“Then I just hopped on a bus one day and came down here to get something to eat and someplace to sleep,” he said. “I heard about the program and decided to participate.”

Chris Taylor, a graduate of the program, remembers a similar experience. A former crack addict and ex-thief, Taylor sought help through the Crossroads program in November, 1986.

“I had run away from Omaha and from heroin and got into something just as bad: crack cocaine,” said Taylor, who now builds custom homes in Midpines. “I was miserable, too.”

Christian Factor

Taylor said the program doesn’t discriminate against anyone, but non-Christian men find it nearly impossible to complete Crossroads.

“If a man does not have a personal relationship with God, he’s going to find himself leaving the program on his own sooner than he expected,” he said. “This program wants to help with your attitude in Christ.”

Neal Hirakawa, 19, said he joined the program not because he was homeless, in a gang or on drugs, but to cultivate a better “relationship with God.”

“I just needed some guidance,” said Hirakawa, also a member of McGill’s class.

But for others, joining Crossroads was a decision born of desperation.

“If I didn’t get some help,” said Monzell Scott, “I know that I would have been dead or in jail.”

Reginald Pierce, a fellow participant, chimed in: “And I’d have been right next to him.”