Been There, Done That

BY DAN SPALDING, Times-Union Staff Writer

While counselors, police, social workers and courts have struggled for years on how to cope with and reach juvenile offenders, Keith Vant Hoff looked no further than the mirror.

The tattoo-laden ex-convict, realizing his experiences could be turned around to help area youth, is the impetus behind a two-year-old program that continues to blossom and is being hailed by local authorities.

The 40-year-old Vant Hoff is founder of a popular Friday night youth group that has met for two years at the 24-Hour Club on Center Street in Warsaw.

Nine weeks ago, the group gained enough community support to open Safe Haven, a club in Boggs Industrial Park that attracts area youth who are willing to leave gang colors and drug use behind. The club is normally open on Saturdays from 2 to 11 p.m.

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Vant Hoff's 6-foot-7, 270-pound frame, long blond hair and tattoos lining both arms create a menacing image. His talk is as rough as his voice is raspy. But the wide grin he often flashes exposes the fact he can be an intimidator and a big brother at the same time.

Vant Hoff, known by many as "Jethro," is assisted by two friends: Don "Frenchie" French and Gary "Tall Bear" Caibaiosai. All three are bikers and are recovering alcoholics with nearly 18 years of consecutive sobriety. And all three say they want to make sure kids don't make the same mistakes they did.

While some may consider it a bit controversial, their efforts are appreciated by juvenile probation officer Brian Rensberger, who's referred more than 250 offenders to the Friday night program. Of those, only two have been back in trouble with the law.

"I don't how or what Keith says to relay a message to these kids, but he's very effective," Rensberger said. "I think the program is fabulous."

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Vant Hoff's life of criminal turmoil and drug use began as a teen and spanned nearly a quarter century.

In his native Wisconsin, he spent four years in prison after assaulting an inmate while jailed on a minor infraction. The sentence wouldn't have been so stiff if not for his verbal comments made to a judge at his sentencing, he said.

His final run-in with the law was six years ago when he was arrested on a cocaine-related charge in South Whitley. He served two years in jail and one year on house arrest.

At that point, he began turning his life around.

He said he's always wanted to work with kids. "But I'd never been clean and never had anything to offer them," he said.

That opportunity arose after he got out of jail and began attending Alcoholics Anonymous.

During his stay on probation, he got to know probation officers Gene Brown and Ruth Hoffer and began pushing the idea of working with kids. It took two years for the proposal to be approved.

At first, Vant Hoff had trouble gaining support and was told by some that they didn't like the idea of a former criminal working with kids. His answer is simple.

"I've been there. Done that. Who else would you want to teach your kids how to stay out of trouble? Would you want somebody who went to college and has never been there? Or would you rather have somebody who's been in trouble and turned their lives around?"

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The Friday night meetings began as a program for teens referred by the Kosciusko County Probation Department, but over time, the bikers began building a bond with participants. Soon, kids started bringing friends and the word spread.

"We got kids that are done (with required meetings) who are still coming," Vant Hoff said. "It's encouraging."

The Friday night meetings usually focus on drugs and alcohol and the importance of making good decisions. Vant Hoff constantly talks about staying within one's "comfort zone" and listening to an inner conscience that signals when trouble is brewing.

Whether the kids catch on immediately to the advice is up to them. "We plant a seed in their brain that will grow someday," Vant Hoff said.

Another regular subject involves respect for parents and the consequences of alienating them.

"If you don't have them, you're not going to have anyone fighting for you," Vant Hoff said. "I lost mine. They're alive, but I'm saying I lost mine."

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Safe Haven is located adjacent to Mantis Skate Park and some basketball courts. The building is owned by the Fraternal Order of Police, who agreed to make it available Saturday afternoons.

Inside, the club includes a jukebox, two pool tables, a soda machine provided by Bertsch Vending and some arcade games. Those who attend pitch in for snacks.

There is no fee, but anyone entering Safe Haven is asked to register at the door. A long list of rules and the accompanying consequences for breaking them are posted. No drugs, weapons or gang-related apparel is allowed. A level of respect is expected for all and fighting is not tolerated. Anyone violating the rules faces suspension and review by youths who serve as club officers, and their parents are notified by Vant Hoff.

Only a handful of youths have been suspended, and most have returned willingly afterward.

One man whose 16-year-old son was arrested for auto theft and drugs said he thinks the program might be making a difference.

He said the bikers have succeeded where counselors and other professionals have fallen short. It's the only program his son has liked, he said.

"He gets a lot out of it," said the parent, who asked not to be identified. "He can relate to Keith and French because they've been there."

But some parents are bothered by Vant Hoff's style.

"There are parents who don't like the way we are because a lot of people say I swear too much, which is probably true. But I'm not here for the parents. I'm here for the kids," he said.

"Even if we chew these kids out, when we are done, we always shake their hand or hug them to let them know the unconditional love that we give will always be there," he said.

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On a Friday night, the back room of the 24-Hour Club on Center Street is packed with 34 kids, 13 to 18 years old. They are clad in baggy jeans, starter jackets and flannel shirts. A few are wearing hemp jewelry. The one thing missing is any identifiable signs of gang activity.

Of the 34, most have been in trouble with the law or their parents. Almost all say they've tried alcohol or marijuana. About eight raise their hands when asked if they'd ever run away from home. An equal number said they've tried huffing inhalants.

There is barely room to move. The 18 or so available chairs are all taken. Those who arrived late either sit on the floor or stand in the remaining space. One teen is curled up under a table. A boy and a girl, both sporting long hair, sit in the corner holding hands for the entire hour.

Of the 34, about eight have been referred by their probation officer. The crowd loosens up and laughs at the responses as two youths explain why they have to attend.

One 17-year-old clean-cut boy said he attended a beer party. It was the first party he had been to in nearly a year; he was apparently in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Another 17-year-old was busted for auto theft for a third time. The cars were stolen for no other reason than the need for transportation, he said.

Although he appears somewhat unmotivated, he said he's quit stealing cars and hanging with the same people. He said he likes the meetings. "It's good to come and sit and meet new people," he said.

On some nights, a guest speaker talks about his struggles with drugs and alcohol and how it caused problems in his life.

On this night, one of the teens reads aloud a story about a girl in Indianapolis who died from inhaling freon. That leads into a discussion by Vant Hoff about remaining in one's "comfort zone" and staying out of trouble before it's too late.

"We're trying to teach you what your freedom is worth before you make some damned mistake and somebody else is making the choice for you. The choice is still yours until you cross that line," Vant Hoff said. "Think before you do s--."

At the end of the meeting, Vant Hoff announces they will begin having the Friday night sessions at the more spacious Safe Haven. He also announces plans to participate in a Scared Straight program at the Indiana State Prison in Pendleton.

Outside the 24-Hour Club, young people continue to congregate after the meeting and talk about the group's popularity.

"It teaches you a lot about life and what to expect," says one girl. "I think it's helped out a lot of people."

"I've never had to come and I've been here for nine months," adds another.