Demise of Program Could Send Parolees Back to a Life of Crime

By the end of the month, Tyrone Lynch could be homeless.

So could David Kilner and Richard Jones, and that has all of them worried. All are ex-convicts, now on parole and living at the Nu Hotel Residential Program, 1129 Broadway in downtown San Diego.

The program, which has provided a residence, as well as health, employment and literacy services to parolees since 1957, is in danger of closing for good. The Rev. Glenn S. Allison, who directs the program for Episcopal Community Services, says the outlook is bleak.

The program’s contract with the state, which provides its primary source of funding--about $170,000 a year--expires June 30. Allison said the program is but another casualty of the nation’s recession and the state’s ever-increasing shortage of funds.

He explains that the state hasn’t said no to a new contract. However, it has altered--dramatically, in his view--the process by which contracts are funded, and this shift has left his program in limbo. “In the past, the state made requirements for what they wanted,” he said. “Then they awarded the contract for what they felt was necessary to provide those services. Now, all they want to know is the lowest amount of money that it would take to fund the program, period. They don’t ask and don’t seem to care about the specifics of the program.”

He said an additional requirement that 20% of the contract has to go to “certified minority and women-owned businesses” has been imposed. The process cannot be completed until June 26, with the program scheduled to resume on July 1.

“There’s no way we can abide with those terms,” Allison said.

Even if a miracle occurs, and as a minister, Allison said he’s hardly averse to miracles, he cannot maintain the program at its current location. Near the corner of 12th Avenue and Broadway, the setting is a mecca for prostitution and drug transactions.

As a result, Allison said the program has been a victim of circumstance. He argues that parolees in the program are not responsible for crime in the neighborhood but says area landlords remain skeptical.

So, if a new contract materializes, or a miracle of funding happens overnight, he’s forced to look for a new location regardless.

The program’s uncertainty has left the men now occupying its 60 beds restless and concerned. Allison said the program serves as many as 100 men a month, and on the average, about 800 to 900 a year. The danger, in his view, is that many of those men may return to crime.

Allison called the program “one of a kind” in San Diego, and said that, without it, parolees will have no place to go.

“I don’t want to face it,” said current resident David Kilner, 35. “I don’t want to go back to a life of crime. All I want is a chance to make it. A lot of the things we did before were stupid mistakes that got us in trouble.

“But, if it comes down to it, if backed into a corner, a lot of these guys will do their break-ins and burglaries. They’ll sell their drugs. People don’t like to be cold and walk around dirty all the time. I’ll try every legal route that I can.

“But, yes, there will be people out there who will feel they have no other choice. There will be a lot of pressure. I--I think all of us--fear the pressure.”

Kilner said he went to prison for dealing drugs.

Richard Jones, 31, who speaks in smooth, mellifluous tones and with the articulate rhythms of a poet, said his life turned with a conviction for auto theft.

He said he fears a dream being compromised with the loss of his temporary home.

“By losing this place, trying to improve our life standards will be a lot more difficult,” Jones said. “I’m very concerned. There will soon be the added pressure of finding a place to live . . . in addition to everything else. I’m taking it a day at a time.”

Tyrone Lynch, 26, who declines to say what crime created his status as an ex-con, said the Nu Hotel Residential Program has been helpful as a place “to rest my head and look for a job to keep me going. But, come June 30, when this all ends, I’ve got to do something to make it all better. It looks like I’ll be out on the street once again.”

Local parole officials were unavailable for comment, but Allison said the program has been instrumental in reducing the rate of recidivism in San Diego County. He prides himself on having taken in homeless people with a criminal background, some of whom are known to be HIV-positive.

Now, Allison said, such men are “at the end of a very unfortunate chain of events that has its roots in Sacramento. I don’t know what the future is going to be. Local parole officials are just the bearer of bad tidings.

“These decisions are being made in Sacramento, but the impact in this community will be severe. A lot of these men will not have homes, and inevitably, some of them will be back on the street, with little hope and no place to go. It’s really very sad.”