young lives in the balance : Budget Cuts Could Force Closure of Several of the 19 L.A. County Youth Camps That Seek to Rehabilitate Those Who Are Not Yet Chronic Offenders. But Would Using Tougher Facilities Make Society Pay More in the End?

One time, Ruben purposely crashed a Bronco into a Bell Gardens home so that he could get inside to try to shoot a rival gang member.

More than once, he said, he walked up to a Los Angeles area home, rang the doorbell and then backed away, firing wildly from the street when someone answered. On other occasions he mugged people or sold or used drugs.

“I got busted in July for a robbery,” said the slender 16-year-old from Bell, claiming he was unsure if he ever killed or seriously hurt anyone during his many illegal activities. “I was heavily into gangs.”

The arrest eventually landed the youth at Camp Scudder in Saugus, a Los Angeles County Probation Department facility near Angeles National Forest.

At the camp, more than 30 miles north of Los Angeles, Ruben for the first time thought about a future that included gray hair and grandchildren. Special classes at the camp, where he arrived in October after spending several weeks at other juvenile facilities, offered him hope for future employment even though he was serving eight months in rigid, prison-like conditions.

But now officials fear that at least some of the 19 widely praised county facilities like Camp Scudder, which are not mandated by law and therefore often face budget threats, could be shut down.

In places like South-Central Los Angeles, East Los Angeles, Huntington Park and South Gate, that would spell big trouble. More than 40% of the 2,250 teen-agers currently serving time in county camps, where the average stay is about six months, are from those communities.

Authorities say camps can help change youths, most of them not yet killers or habitual offenders, before the teen-agers ruin lives. For the most part, youths who are court-ordered to attend a probation camp are guilty of crimes such as assaults, holdups, break-ins, car thefts or possession of illegal drugs. Most youths convicted of more serious, violent crimes are sent to tougher California Youth Authority facilities, where the average stay is about 20 months.

Still, Gov. Pete Wilson’s proposed fiscal 1996 budget did not include a subsidy for juvenile detention camps, an estimated loss of at least $14 million to Los Angeles County.

Wilson Administration officials say they do not object to the camps. The funding was left out of the proposed budget partly because of the state’s financial hard times and because federal funding was expected to offset the state cutback, officials said.

But county officials say the state money is crucial. This year’s $63-million budget for the camps, covered in part by federal and county sources, includes the $14 million from the state.

Barry J. Nidorf, the county’s chief probation officer, said the loss of the state money could result in about five camps closing. That would be a reduction of 550 camp beds and would also mean eliminating camp as an option for more than 1,000 youths over a year, he said.

Several officials argued that the money the state may save by denying camp funding now will only hurt taxpayers later. Placing a teen-ager at a tougher California Youth Authority facility adds up to thousands of dollars more than housing someone at a probation camp and increases the chances the youth will lose hope, become more seasoned as a criminal and end up at an adult prison some day at even greater costs, they said.

“Those kids are all coming back into the community,” said Robert M. Sainz, a spokesman for the Probation Department. “The goal is to keep them from the adult prison system.”

Wilson included money for the camps in his last two budgets after the Legislature passed a bill mandating a county-state partnership to finance the facilities. If similar action does not occur this year, the Probation Department will have to determine which camps to close and when, as well as what other money-saving options may be available.

With the camps’ future uncertain, the county’s Office of Education had to send layoff notices to about 150 teachers and other staff last month as a formal warning that their jobs were in jeopardy.

If the funding is not restored by May 1, or if the Probation Department cannot assure education officials that the camps will remain open, those workers are expected to receive termination notices and could be placed on 30-day contracts as of July, officials said.

The camps generally provide more specialized attention than other youth detention facilities in areas such as basic studies, job training, violence prevention and community development. They are usually better able to help the many youths who have learning disabilities.

“The outcome of kids going to camp is they do far better,” Nidorf said. “The youth authority is much closer to a prison, with some pretty bad characters.”

That is not to say that youths who attend camps are cured of their troubled lives--about 25% end up doing time with the youth authority anyway. Upon release from the probation camps, some are overwhelmed by their home surroundings, where gangs and illicit drug activity may abound.

The youths, ages 13 to 18, face other challenges as well. Their average reading level is fifth grade and their average math level is sixth grade.

To many youths like Ruben, whose girlfriend gave birth to a girl about two months ago, a camp seems like a godsend.

Ruben scarcely minds being locked up in Camp Scudder, where youths are under 24-hour supervision and the tops of 15-foot-high fences are covered with tough-to-grip mesh tarps to discourage escape attempts. Since October, he has been told when and how to do just about everything, but he is far from bitter.

“I always thought there was nothing out there for me besides gangbanging and selling dope,” he said, his hands pressed inside the pockets of his camp-issued baggy denim pants. “My goal now for life is to become a probation officer and try to help kids before they get to where I am.”

Scudder, like most of the probation camps, is in a remote, mountainous area. Besides dormitories and a mess hall, it has classrooms, a baseball field, basketball courts, a gymnasium, an auditorium and other recreational areas.

Camp staff try to balance the limited freedom youths are allowed with safety precautions. Many of the youths are from rival gangs, and lunch utensils, for example, at times become weapons.

Robert L. Polakow, Scudder camp director, said there are about 110 youths in custody on any given day.

The youths rise about 6 a.m. and are counted, the first of many head counts throughout the day as they go to meals, class, weed- or graffiti-abatement details, counseling, study hall or recreation, Polakow said.

Confrontations, mainly fistfights or shoving matches, are far less of a problem than getting youths to stop being sarcastic or dragging their feet, he said.

“They really fill a critical need,” he said of the camps. “It’s so that we can really transition the kid to the community and give him a real chance to make it.”

Special events, scheduled from time to time to help the youths experience discipline and structure, include guest speakers on issues like education, jobs or violence prevention, or lighter topics such as art or music.

At a recent daylong gathering, the heads of the New West Technical Academy in South-Central and the Wilshire West School in Santa Monica spoke about the alternative schools, which offer students with special education needs help after their release from camp.

“We come from similar paths that you now travel,” said Andrew Manley, president of the academy. He told the youths of his own tough times growing up without a strong family, hating school and then eventually pursuing an education. “We will not allow you to come to school for six hours and not learn. It’s not too late for you.”

For many youths, a regular school would be a waste of time, partly because their needs may not be met and they would be so far behind that they would probably become discouraged and drop out, officials said.

“I received my (high school equivalency diploma) at camp,” said one girl in custody at Camp Scott, the county’s only camp for girls, which is next to Camp Scudder. “I’ve never really attended high school regularly.”

The frank 18-year-old, who was at Camp Scudder for a daylong gathering focusing on trust and self-esteem, said she grew up in Watts with gangs and violence.

Pausing to think for a moment, the girl said there was no one thing that made her change her dangerous ways, including the camp. She simply decided recently that it was time to build a peaceful life.

“I’m just tired of it,” said the girl, one of about 100 girls housed at Camp Scott. “I can’t say I saw the light. I really believe that it’s all upon yourself. I think whoever wants to make the change can make it.”

For Wayne, 17, of South-Central, who was sent to Camp Scudder in February, the decision to straighten out came to some degree from the relief he felt at being sent to the camp.

The tall, thin youth leaned against a wall and told of how a judge showed compassion by ordering him to camp despite past offenses that included weapons charges related to gang activities.

“The judge is showing me much love by sending me to camp,” said Wayne, who expects to be released in July. “That’s like giving me a second chance.”

Wayne said he plans to serve his time at camp and then find a job and study business management.

“If I get out of hand at this camp they could send me to (California Youth Authority) for five years. That’s something you’ve got to think about,” he said. “As soon as I get out of here and get my little job and get my little money, I’m going straight for my apartment, out of L.A.”

Others remain unsure of their futures, and say they do not want to kid themselves about what may happen outside the camps. The street life of gangbanging and illicit drug activities is everywhere around them, almost impossible to avoid.

“I have feelings that I’m going to go back,” said Isidro, 17, of West Los Angeles. “Some people do go back. I’m hoping that I don’t go back to it.”

ON THE COVER

Young offenders at Camp Scudder in Saugus file out of a gymnasium after listening to guests speak on self-esteem.

The county’s camps can detour a young life that is speeding, seemingly out of control, toward crime and drug abuse. Most of the teen-agers have committed assaults, holdups, break-ins, car thefts or possessed illegal drugs. Those convicted of more serious, violent crimes are sent to tougher California Youth Authority facilities. “The judge is showing me much love by sending me to camp,” said one youth. “That’s like giving me a second chance.”