From hard time to hard work

For the first time in his life, Vernon Hembry is proud of his work. The 36-year-old Louisa man is a painting technician at Pro Auto Body in Orange. It's a skill he acquired while serving a 15-month drug-related sentence, via the work release program at Central Virginia Regional Jail (CVRJ).
"Just being able to get out of there and make money made [all the difference]," says Hembry, speaking about his experience with the program. "I got my [court] fines paid, paid child support, picked up a trade." With a smile, Hembry adds: "[Having this job] now keeps my mind occupied from doing the things I did to get [in jail] in the first place."
Work release programs across the nation offer eligible inmates an opportunity to earn money in their local communities while serving their sentences. Often it's the only hope jailed workers have to hold on to positions they already have.
According to Hembry, the program offered a selection of available work at the time he started at Pro Auto. That was about three years ago. That may no longer be the case.
Work release programs across the state are feeling the pinch of the recession, particularly when it comes to a dwindling pool of employers. CVRJ's program is no exception. More than a dozen inmates, already interviewed and approved, are awaiting jobs there.
"The economy is really taking a toll on us," says Barbara Tinder, who coordinates the work release program at CVRJ with Sgt. David Vogt. "So many places have had to cut back, shut down, layoff… and all of that trickles down to us."
Availability of jobs is one of the main challenges to work release programs across the state, agrees Larry M. Traylor, spokesperson for the Virginia Department of Corrections (DOC).
Tinder, however, maintains that "Things are starting to turn around." Fortunate not only for inmates, but for taxpayers and employees, too.
Work release inmates pay 25 percent of their net income to CVRJ to participate in the program. Tinder and Vogt say this helps offset the expense to house and feed inmates, a cost estimated to be $18,000 per year. With the money earned, inmates pay child support, plus restitution and court fines back to the counties. They are also able to support their families.
"The goal is to allow the offender to repay child support or court costs and fines so he can contribute to society, and when he gets out of jail return to the community as a functioning [individual]," Vogt says. "It empowers them to be positive and to produce for their families while incarcerated."
And the program offers advantages to local employers willing to take part, adds Vogt. Among the benefits: inmates come already drug tested. Plus, Tinder adds, these workers are not allowed to take off from work without prior approval, nor permitted to be late for work.
In many cases, employers are able to get skilled workers at minimum wage. And federal tax incentives are available to qualified employers for hiring current or recently released inmates.
But according to former inmate Chris Conley, the most lasting benefit of the work release program is undoubtedly felt by the inmate himself: "A chance to taste freedom."
"You feel good when you work," Conley begins. "Just being locked in the cell for 24 hours is mental torture… … everything is concrete and steel … [With work release], you get to be out instead of sitting around."
The work release inmate is allowed to work in Fredericksburg, Culpeper and Charlottesville, plus the five counties served by CVRJ - Orange, Madison, Louisa, Greene, and Fluvanna. Inmates are allowed to work six days a week and up to 12 hours in any 24-hour period.
CVRJ houses roughly 370 offenders. A relatively small percent of these offenders are eligible for the work release program. The inmate must be approved by the courts, the commonwealth's attorney and the sheriff of the jurisdiction of the work site. Eligibility, among other items, is based on background check, job history and incarceration history, including no escape attempts. Sexual abusers, murderers and habitual offenders, for example, would not be considered.
Last September, Conley began working for Kent Higginbotham, a town council member and businessman. At the time, Conley was serving a six-month mandatory sentence for failure to pay child support. Conley worked with paving and concrete contractors at the site of the new Best Western Hotel, less than a mile from CVRJ. He worked Monday through Saturday, making hundreds of dollars per week, says Conley.
"Instead of my family having to send me money, I was sending (money) home to them to them," he recalls. And Conley names his favorite commissary items he was able to purchase while in jail: "Kool-Aid, Tang, coffee, candy bars… socks, shower shoes." He adds, grinning: "I'd buy a big bottle of shampoo."
All in all, Conley calls the program a "luxury" for inmates.
"There are so many people who want to work, and there are so few jobs," he remarks. "These are skilled people there who will give you an honest day's work. Of course there are some bad apples, too."
Vogt and Tinder put much effort in maintain tight security, including transport to and from the job site.
"The employer participating in the program must be willing to supervise… You have to be very detailed in terms of scheduling and be willing [for us] to come to the job site," Vogt explains.
Conley agrees.
"You can't leave the site, use the phone, and have visitors," Conley recalls.
But tight security isn't the most challenging part. Harder to swallow for many, Conley says, are "the cold bag lunches" provided from the jail.
"That was the worst part," Conley says with a half-grin. "I'll never forget those leftover Sloppy Joes. Who could eat them?"
Conley is one of more than 450 inmates that Higginbotham estimates he has employed since first participating in the program nearly 20 years ago.
His advice for employers new to the program, he says: "Structure is critical. You have to be exceptionally firm. There are some difficulties."
But he says: "When you have someone come back and (say) you've given them skills to provide an honest living, that's pretty powerful."
Pro Auto Body owner David Rutt agrees.
"The program benefits the business owner and the community to get the individual back on the right track and successful in their return to society," says Rutt, who has employed at least a dozen or more work release inmates over the years.
The best outcome of the program, says Tinder, is when inmates learn new skills for a new life, as with Hembry.
"I never dreamed I'd be painting but I knew I wanted to be in this atmosphere," says Hembry. "It's not like I'm working. I love what I do."