Mother of Invention : After the birth of a child with Down’s syndrome, Margot Carlson of Laguna Beach redefined herself and went to work on changing the world.

Margot Carlson still remembers the moment in 1968 that started her transformation from stay-at-home mom into the executive director of one of Orange County’s most successful nonprofit agencies.

Her sixth child and namesake, Margot Rose, was discovered to have Down’s syndrome shortly after birth.

“It was such a complete shock,” Carlson said. “I remember it was a gloomy day, and I was sitting in the dark in the house after the doctor called and told me. No one really knew anything about Down’s syndrome then. It was like a death.”

But the news wasn’t the death of Carlson or her family. Spurred by a desire to protect children, she went back to college at 39, earned her master’s degree and later built Community Service Programs (CSP), one of the largest nonprofit organizations of its type in Orange County, to deal with domestic problems.

Her youngest daughter grew up happy and healthy and is now taking the bus to work and attending school.

“I was home with the first five children, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner,” she said. “But when Margot was born, I wanted to change the world on her behalf.”

Carlson hasn’t quite changed the world. But she’s working on it.

“The children that we’re seeing now are more involved with drugs and alcohol, and the families are more dysfunctional,” she said with matter-of-fact intensity. “We don’t have a stable family to reunify them with, and that’s a big part of the problem.”

With a frequent smile that makes her look younger than her 65 years, the force behind CSP is small but mighty. She’s known for having her facts straight and her numbers right. But those who know Carlson best admire her most for turning a personal challenge into a corporate success story.

At an age when most people think about retirement, she continues to make her mark in Orange County by running the nonprofit agency like a business, something most charities find difficult to do.

“Anyone in this business who is operating on a purely emotional level, you have to take a second look at,” she said.

“You cannot run on good intentions or some unrealistic philanthropy. This isn’t all volunteer work; I have salaries to pay here.”

There are 168 salaries at CSP, and unlike the scores of other nonprofits that depend primarily on fund-raisers and private donations, it receives roughly $5 million annually in grants from federal, state, county and city governments.

The 19 programs include a youth shelter in Laguna Beach, victim/witness assistance programs, family counseling and a variety of community services ranging from domestic violence assistance to aid for victims of sexual assault and gang violence.

Annually, the victim/witness program alone aids more than 55,000 people, the youth services help 30,000 and the domestic violence program assists 3,000. After more than two decades, CSP programs exist in just about every city in the county--an accomplishment that has earned respect from law enforcement and social service agencies throughout the state.

“CSP is a big business,” said Orange County Assistant Sheriff Doug Storm. “While it’s a nonprofit, it has to operate like a professional organization, and Margot has the ability to run it like one.”

*

Dick Carlson met Margot Bachtell on a Chicago streetcar in the mid-1950s. On their way to classes at the Navy Pier branch of the University of Illinois, the sophomores struck up a conversation. She first noticed his crystal-blue eyes.

“I don’t know if there’s really love at first sight, but there was certainly a chemistry there,” she said.

Then a young business student, Dick Carlson confessed that it took him a month to ask her out.

“She was very beautiful, and still is,” he said. “And she has always known where she wants to go and how to get there.”

They dated for five years, married and began their large family in the suburbs of Chicago’s South Side before moving to Laguna Beach in 1961.

The couple were stunned when daughter Margot was found to have Down’s syndrome seven years after their move to Southern California, although they thought something might be wrong with their 3-month-old baby.

“When I’d look at her, I’d say, ‘She’s OK,’ then I would look at her again and say, ‘No, I know something’s wrong,’ ” Margot Carlson said.

But the other kids say their parents handled it well.

“The whole thing was presented in a non-panic mode,” said Gregory Carlson, the eldest. “They aren’t the type of parents that would upset us, and Margot (Rose) has been an asset to the family.”

Margot Carlson would wince when the boys plunged into the waves with their youngest sister and shut her eyes when Keith gave Margot Rose a ride on the back of his motorcycle. But Carlson said all of her children have contributed to Margot Rose’s continuing development.

“She loves them, and they love her. She grew up in a normal family where she was treated like everyone treats everyone, and that’s the way it is,” Carlson said.

She remembers the promise her husband made when their youngest daughter’s condition had been confirmed:

“He looked at me and said, ‘We’re going to give Margot everything we possibly can, but we aren’t going to let it penalize our other kids, and we aren’t going to let it come between us,’ ” she said. “And you know, we never have. That was the kindest thing he could have said.”

The Down’s syndrome diagnosis was a turning point for the Carlson family. It was a time of change, compromise and some sacrifice, with Mom trading her cookbook for a school notebook--almost reinventing her role overnight.

The first class she took at UC Irvine was “The Bill of Rights for the Developmentally Disabled,” and it sent her on her way.

She landed an internship in 1972 under Arnold Binder, the founder of the university’s Social Ecology Department, while completing her degree in social ecology and juvenile justice. She hoped to learn a lot of things, including better ways to guide a handicapped child through the system.

“I remember that when I would come home from school, I would immediately go into the bathroom to change my clothes, and all of the kids--even the dog--would line up at the door,” she said. “They would tell me what they needed and what they wanted. Once I started, that’s what it was like.”

The days working, studying for her master’s degree and raising six children weren’t easy on Carlson or her family, but it was a schedule they all got used to.

Keith Carlson said pitching in was something that was expected, and something he and his brothers and sisters were glad to do.

“When Mom went to school, we covered, taking care of Margot and making sure everyone got something to eat,” he said. “It wasn’t hard or anything, though; (Mom) would have all of the meals planned out; all we had to do was fix them and serve them. Resenting anything wasn’t even in the picture.”

Carlson had to plan meals and bag lunches ahead, often rising at 4 a.m. to study. But her children say she never missed a motherly beat as she juggled her schoolwork and domestic duties.

“I haven’t really figured it out,” Keith Carlson said. “I have only two kids, and I can’t believe how she pulled it off with six. My dad drove to L.A. every day and worked his tail off, and she organized our lives.”

*

With Binder’s guidance, Carlson began developing programs to steer kids away from trouble, rather than following the traditional practice of rehabilitating them once they’ve entered the justice system.

“Prevention and intervention was a new concept,” she says. “When I first started, rehab was the name of the game, but we thought it would be more effective to get the kids at the front end of the system instead of at the back end.”

And so began Margot Carlson’s climb from idealistic intern to executive director--getting her way up every rung of the corporate ladder within the multi-program organization. CSP, formally Youth Service Programs, began in 1971 with a single teen diversion unit at UC Irvine and now has become one of the most respected such programs in Southern California.

Though his mother has tapered her hours into a four-day workweek, Gregory Carlson said she works as much as or more than ever at CSP, with late nights, weekends and overtime she’s never thought to track.

“It’s got to be tiring; she uses all of her energy there,” he said.

“But the really incredible thing about my mom is that she is still developing talents. A lot of people are motivated by money or other material things, but she’s tried to actually do something that would benefit the community and society at large. Her talents keep emerging.”

*

Carlson’s talent for developing successful programs and her early ideas surrounding youth and criminal justice have proved to be very effective. According to Orange County Probation Department statistics, roughly 75% of the 1,669 juveniles who would otherwise have found themselves in the district attorney’s office and in the courts last year were diverted into CSP programs.

Diverted youths and their parents have paid about $5 million in restitution to crime victims since the program began.

“In essence, they are providing an alternative to the juvenile justice system for the lightweight offenders in Orange County,” said Rod Speer, of the Orange County Probation Department’s Juvenile Division, who added that CSP now holds the contracts in most of the county.

Co-workers and colleagues from the early days remember Carlson as a woman with sincere goals and uncompromising principles, one who rarely accepts no for an answer.

“Margot, in my opinion, is a very driven person and a very persistent person with a lot of tenacity,” said Laguna Beach Police Chief Neil J. Purcell Jr., who has known Carlson for more than 20 years.

“She does it with such style and professionalism. When she you hear her explain her programs, you’re gonna get involved or you’re gonna give, one of those two things.”

*

Orange County Supervisor William G. Steiner agrees, recalling one of the first meetings he had with Carlson when he was the director of the Orangewood Children’s Home. She had approached Steiner to give money to the youth shelter, impressing upon him that if there was no place for troubled teens to go, they would end up in his facility.

“She convinced me that it was in my best interest to give her money,” said Steiner with a laugh. “I thought I had a tight hold on my money, and she picked my pocket. I guess I was blackmailed in a nice sort of way.”

From the county supervisors dedicated to teen diversion to the volunteer handyman who pops by the youth shelter when something needs fixing, it seems everyone Carlson comes into contact with gets involved.

“I guess it’s because she and CSP have maintained truth in their mission,” said Larry Leaman, director of the Social Services Agency for Orange County.

“And she’s astute enough to make her point and move on instead of falling on her sword.”

Leaman, whose office refers several hundred clients to CSP annually, said he has seen his share of well-intentioned people in the nonprofit community come and go in his 14 years as head of social services for the county.

“For a lot of these programs that are attempting to service the community, it’s a matter of economic survival,” Leaman said. “It consumes directors, and it’s a real burnout job that makes (Carlson) unique. She’s still here after all these years. . . . She has such high energy that sometimes we wonder where she gets it all.”

*

Seated behind her desk at CSP headquarters in Irvine and surrounded by awards and family photos, Carlson cradled the telephone receiver with her chin and shoulder, speaking with the pleasant-toned authority that is so a part of her business persona.

“I’m really going to squawk if we get screwed out of this one,” she said. “Let’s do our best to make it work.”

The words “tenacious” and “committed” are used time after time to describe her--two traits that no doubt contributed to her ability to make the midstream changes in her life. Her business friends are police chiefs, judges and high-ranking county officials, yet she often spends time counseling troubled teens who seek help from the large agency.

“The compassionate side of her comes out when it comes to the programs dealing with kids,” said Michael Shumacher, chief probation officer for Orange County.

“CSP is one of the first programs to come on the scene to provide organized private help for teen-agers, and she has been a very aggressive player when it comes to implementing these programs in a very effective manner. She’s very dedicated.”

She may have stepped on some toes along the way, but she said it’s not her style to burn bridges or steamroll her way through negotiations.

“Professionally, from what I can see, she runs it well,” said Kevin Meehan, executive director of Orange County Youth Service Programs, another nonprofit agency that sometimes competes for county contracts with CSP.

Although Carlson said she and Meehan “have gone around a few times,” Meehan downplayed the rivalry.

“I don’t see it as cutthroat and competitive as people like to think it would be,” he said.

As for toe-stomping, Carlson said she tries to do as little as possible.

“I’m not in the business of being at odds with people,” she said with a smile. “We perform a service that I truly believe Orange County would be poor without. Because of that, I do business a certain way.”

*

Padding around the living room in sheepskin slippers, Margot Rose, 26, lights up when she talks about her job of putting on sensor tags at a Wet Seal warehouse.

“Sometimes I get a bonus,” she says. “I work hard.”

Margot Rose shares the family home with her mother and father. Siblings Gregory, 40, Keith, 39, Karen Marie, 36, David, 34, and Richard, 32, have moved, some of them raising children of their own nearby.

It’s rare to see Margot Rose without a smile. She watches “Monday Night Football” with Keith every week during the season, helps Dad with dinner and tells her mother how lucky she is to have her.

“The only thing that hurts now is if I see her slighted in any way,” Carlson said. “But she’s great. I think she’s happy.”

Profile:

Margot Rose Carlson

Background: Born in Chicago, 1929, moved to Laguna Beach in 1961.

Education: Bachelor’s and master’s degrees in social ecology and juvenile justice/community mental health from UC Irvine, license in marriage and family counseling.

Family: Husband, Dick Carlson, president, CMC Printed Bag Corp. in Whittier. Six children: Gregory, 40, co-owner, Carlskin Manufacturing Co., a T-shirt and sports accessories company, lives in Dana Point; Keith, 39, co-owner, Carlskin, also lives in Dana Point; Karen Marie, 36, administrative assistant, West Marine, lives in Aptos, Calif.; David, 34, plant manager, CMC Printed Bag, lives in Laguna Beach; Richard, 32, sales and marketing, CMC Printed Bag, lives in Laguna Beach; Margot Rose, 26, Wet Seal employee, lives in Laguna Beach. Grandchildren: Kevin, 2, Mitchel, 2, Eric, 7 months, Emily, 2 months, April, 2 weeks.

Passions: Gardening, cooking, working with adolescents.

On negative thinkers: “Some people are born old, born uptight, and born unhappy. I’m not one of those people.”

On politics: “I think the government manages lives and governs things with the foot of an elephant. There has to be another way to do it.”

On the family: “It’s about time that family preservation has become popular again. My family is my reason for being.”