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Officer Prefers Sending Youths to College, Not Jail

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

For a police officer working the “p.m. shift” in Southeast Los Angeles, the night can cause a kind of amnesia, making the cop forget, more than at other times, that good people still abound.

But LAPD Officer John Coughlin didn’t forget.

“Working nights, everything seems to deal with negativity,” said Coughlin, who has patrolled the Southeast Division for six years. “But most people here are really good people.”

Two years ago, Coughlin decided to do something for those good people. With help, he looked for “good kids” who, with a little push and support, could transcend their violent environment. His weapon was education. Coughlin’s family in Boston, the principal of Jordan High School, a college administrator and fellow police officers helped him create Operation Progress.

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The grass-roots program awards scholarships to send two Watts youths to college each year. The program targets good students with potential. Some come from broken homes. Few benefit from the glow of high expectations--something the 30-year-old Coughlin had growing up in Boston. Many must choose: college or staying home and working to support the family.

Lucio Ramirez is one such student. His father refused to enroll him in the ninth grade because he wanted Lucio to work. Lucio, the first scholarship recipient in 1999, immigrated with his father from war-torn El Salvador to Guatemala and then Watts. He doesn’t remember his mother, and many of his close relatives were killed in the war.

To enroll at Jordan High, Lucio asked sympathetic neighbors, including an elderly African American woman who cared for him long ago, to forge signatures for him. “She put her hand on the fire for me,” said Lucio, now 20. The neighbors’ compassion paid off. Lucio graduated from Jordan High with an A average.

Under the terms of Operation Progress, students have to maintain a 3.5 grade point average at Harbor College before transferring to a university.

“It’s not a handout,” Coughlin said. “This is a good investment.”

All tuition will be covered. Coughlin figures the cost could reach $30,000 per student. Five scholarship winners have been selected so far.

It’s a commitment that Coughlin and his family, especially his civil engineer father, Richard Coughlin, have already pledged to honor, even if they have to cover it completely with their own money.

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“If we don’t raise the money, I’ve already told [John] it’s coming out of his inheritance,” said Richard Coughlin, laughing.

The elder Coughlin is the financial brains of Operation Progress, albeit from 3,000 miles away. He had a Web site (www.operation progress.com) created to promote the program. He mails hundreds of letters to corporations and organizations soliciting donations.

Richard Coughlin said John had grown frustrated by the almost nightly mayhem and murders he saw on his beat. Though the area is geographically small--only 10 square miles--the neighborhoods patrolled by the LAPD’s Southeast Division routinely lead the city in homicides. More than 60 gangs prowl Southeast, said Det. Sal LaBarbera. For residents, reporting crimes means risking one’s life.

Though worse for residents, it’s not a much better atmosphere for police. Southeast L.A., and especially Watts, have long been emblems of police-resident tensions. Last summer alone, at least seven officers were injured during violent clashes with crowds. Most happened after sundown.

At night, most people go indoors. As Coughlin sees it, police have relatively few positive contacts then because most law-abiding people know better than to stay outside.

When he launched his program, Coughlin knew nothing about fund-raising, so he plied family and friends in Boston for seed money.

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He approached Jordan High Principal Dhyan Lal, a gregarious and irreverent free spirit, for help in choosing students and making contacts. Through Lal, he met Harbor College administrator Cheryl Liddle, who has become the de facto administrator of the scholarships.

Eventually he asked a colleague, Officer Robert Bourbois, for help. Bourbois, 29, brought a different life experience to Operation Progress.

Coughlin grew up in an affluent neighborhood. Murders were an event. Bourbois grew up near MacArthur Park when homicides formed an almost normal part of the landscape.

Coughlin went to college; his parents expected it. Bourbois saw the Marine Corps as the best way to help himself and his family. He hoped to get his parents out of a dicey neighborhood, but his mother died in 1993 before he could.

For Bourbois, the plight of youths in Watts reminds him of his own life. It motivates him.

“One thing that truly amazed me was a young man here who learned the classical piano on his own,” Bourbois said. “To come out of a violent environment and teach himself that piano, that’s wonderful. But you don’t hear about these types of kids around here.”

Nearly every week, Bourbois visits potential local donors, from law firms to sporting goods stores.

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“I explain to them that we’re trying to improve the life of families in the neighborhood,” Bourbois said. “These are good kids, but they’re trapped.”

So far, the answers have been no.

But he plugs on. “Bobby’s got a lot of heart,” Coughlin said. “He’s not afraid to approach anyone and he doesn’t complain.”

Until now, all the donations have come from Boston, but on Dec. 13, about 75 LAPD officers will participate in a golf tournament to raise scholarship money.

LAPD Capt. Patrick Gannon of the Southeast station sums up Operation Progress: “It lets people see officers as human beings who care about the people who live in these areas. Around here, there’s often an attitude of ‘You don’t live here. What do you care?’ They’re right. We don’t live here. But that doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

As for Lucio Ramirez, he’s grateful. He admits he’s nervous about going to a big university; he worries about the culture clash. For now, he’s pursuing an associate degree as a registered nurse, and plans to earn a bachelor’s degree in forensic science.

“I see them as a blessing,” Lucio said of his benefactors. “They’re angels in blue.”

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