Jailed criminals reach out to give teens inside look at ‘Life of Crime’

They call him Freddy Krueger. But this Freddy, also known as Inmate 41397050, is scarier. Because he's real.

The burly, bald criminal with the intense stare seems to enjoy frightening troubled youngsters, many of whom have been forced by court order to visit him, with graphic tales of the very unpleasant things he'll do to them if they ever end up near him in grown-up jail.

Much of his language can't be reprinted here, but the message is clear: Jail is a place where you never, ever want to end up.

"You're either going to be like me or the victim of someone like me," Freddy, né Kevin White, told a group of teenagers and parents at North Las Vegas Municipal Court on a recent Wednesday night. "When they lock that door, you're in there with me."

The comment was met with absolute silence in the courtroom, where 200 people had gathered for "A Life of Crime," a three-hour "scared straight" program for kids 12 to 17 years old and their parents. The free monthly program includes interaction with local SWAT team members, police and judges, and the simulated capture of a criminal with the help of a sharp-toothed drug dog.

But it's the grim talk from the criminals that most captivates the multiple-pierced, tatted-up teens.

There's the bank robber who couldn't go to his infant son's funeral because he was incarcerated.

There's the former coach and youth mentor, a father of eight, who lost his career and freedom after an unspecified "one mistake."

There's the 48-year-old grandmother and former prostitute who said drug abuse led her to a criminal life on the streets, where she was raped and beaten.

Life on the inside isn't much different, Angel Jackson said.

"This is a life you don't want to lead."

Finally, there's good ol' Freddy, who promised to make life very uncomfortable for those who land in jail.

"I'm the predator they are talking about," he said. "Either you are the predator or the prey."

Freddy's been incarcerated much of his adult life for a variety of crimes including pandering, racketeering and transporting women across state lines for prostitution.

"It paid me like a slot machine," he said.

He told the assembled youngsters that they eventually would be at his mercy if they don't listen to their parents.

"It's really simple," he said. "You decide you don't want to listen to your mother. That's easy (expletive). I'm going to beat your ass when you don't do what I want."

Granted, the threats were clearly exaggerated for dramatic effect.

"If there are incidents where an inmate is threatened or physically harmed by another inmate, we would investigate each one of them," said Paul Gillenwater, services manager at the North Las Vegas Detention Center. "We would take disciplinary action up to and including filing charges. The main objective is for everyone who comes in here to leave safe."

Hyperbole aside, though, "being in jail is a grim experience," he said.

The inmates who speak at "A Life of Crime" are chosen based on their ability to communicate with an audience, Gillenwater said.

They understand the purpose of the program is to shock youngsters into rethinking their negative behavior.

Those involved in the program at no point let on that the threats might not be entirely genuine.

"This is for real," North Las Vegas Municipal Court Judge Warren VanLandschoot told the teens. "You don't want to come to our house."

Earlier, VanLandschoot, a former North Las Vegas police officer, said the 10-year-old "A Life of Crime" program is one of the too few tools available to frustrated parents looking for a way to turn their kids around.

"It shows them the consequences of bad choices," he said. "If we reach five out of 200, we've succeeded. If we reach one, we've succeeded. That's one less person the courts have to deal with."

It was difficult to tell what effect the program had on the targeted youngsters, most of whom were way too cool to answer questions.

But the parents, desperate for help controlling their out-of-control teens, had hope.

"I'm scared for my 13-year-old," Amelia Gayton said tearfully as her son, Daniel Colter, stood sullenly at her side. "The last year or so, he just loves the gang glamour."

The boy recently spent a day in juvenile hall after serving as lookout for another boy who stole a watch from Target, Gayton said.

"He's been in and out of school. I'm pulling out my hair."

So, what did Daniel think of the program?

Shrug.

How about that Freddy?

Shrug.

Did anything you heard tonight make you want to make better choices in the future?

Shrug, with accompanying glare.

OK, then.

VanLandschoot told Gayton to sign Daniel up for one of the more intense programs the court offers, "Keep it Real." It puts kids inside the jail for hours at a time and provides some quality one-on-one time with the likes of Freddy.

"Kids pee their pants," VanLandschoot said. "If all that doesn't work, we've lost them."

Jacorie Sanders, 17, said he doesn't need to be scared straight.

"I know I ain't gonna be up there," he said, gesturing toward the panel of inmates.

It was Sanders' second time through the program, he said. But he hasn't been in trouble or court-ordered to attend.

Instead, Sanders twice joined a field trip to the program with friends from his local Boys & Girls Club.

"I come up here to have him (Freddy) remind me not to get in trouble," he said.

Those interested in attending "A Life of Crime" may call North Las Vegas Municipal Court at 702-633-1130, extension 3, to make a reservation.

Contact reporter Lynnette Curtis at lcurtis@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0285.