Purvis Hunt was a career criminal until he turned his life around. Now he helps kids avoid the mistakes he made and find jobs. Former gang member Purvis Hunt helps kids land jobs so they don’t make the bad choices he made earlier in his life. But he could lose his city job because of budget cuts.

Purvis Hunt is not a man most would peg as a role model. First arrested at age 12 for robbery and assault, he began drinking and using drugs around the same time. During his teenage years, he helped rob a motel, fired off wild shots at a party and once faced 15 years in prison before getting off on a technicality.

"I’ve basically been up and down, in and out through the system. Juvenile hall, jail occasionally, running with gangs," the 30-year-old said. "Just basically doing wrong."

But today, Hunt said he has found a new way. The native of Fresno, Calif., works for Columbia’s Youth Empowerment Zone as a youth development specialist. He mentors people age 14 to 17, helping them write résumés, survive job interviews and get noticed by area employers. He has only been at it for six months, but supervisors said he has had a big impact; they’re worried, however, that a funding crunch could eliminate his position.

"When you’re trying to turn kids’ lives around, it takes a lot of one-on-one time and a lot of concerted effort, and that’s exactly what Purvis is doing," director Lorenzo Lawson said.

Lawson said Hunt connects with those he serves because he has already navigated the hard road many are just starting on. Growing up in a fatherless home with a mother who worked multiple jobs, Hunt said, drove him to succeed at a young age.

"I had a paper route," Hunt said. "By the time I was 13, I had saved up enough money I bought myself a Datsun. After that, the route that used to take me an hour and a half I could get done in under 30 minutes," he said. He took on additional routes and earned about $1,300 a month delivering papers.

It wasn’t long, though, before the temptations of the street warped his ambition. Hunt ran with a group of older kids and was shocked when he realized how they paid for their lavish lifestyle.

"One of my boys put a bag in my hand and said, ‘Here, go sell this.’ I was with him a lot, but until then I didn’t know they sold dope. That’s when I understood where everyone got their money from - the nice cars, the rims, the loud music. I said, ‘OK, this is what y’all do,’ " Hunt said.

Above: Purvis Hunt, left, assists Chad Simmons, 16, with an online job application. Hunt is a youth development specialist for Columbia’s Youth Empowerment Zone.  Below: Hunt searches his files for information on a Columbia teen he helped find a job earlier this month. 

Hunt began slinging drugs. The older gangsters liked him because his house was next to a big redwood tree in an abandoned lot where deals tended to go down. Junkies would knock on Hunt’s bedroom window at 3 or 4 a.m., and he would roll over and hand out a bag of crack cocaine.

For a kid, it was living large. But one night he came home after 2 a.m. and found his key didn’t fit in the door anymore. His mother, fed up with his disobedience, had changed the locks and packed all his clothes in a bag she tossed out in the bushes.

"I beat on the door until my mom opened and said, ‘What do you want?’ I said, ‘I want to get in the house,’ and she said, ‘You don’t live here anymore. You want to act grown, so go on, you’re grown now.’ "

Things went downhill from there. That year Hunt and some friends were arrested for robbery and assault on an ice cream vendor, and he did time in juvenile detention. Later, at 17, Hunt was involved in a motel robbery where he and his cohorts got away with $2,000 and terrorized guests.

That time, Hunt narrowly avoided 15 years in prison when the judge hearing the case fell ill. Finally, in his mid-20s and surviving more close shaves than he has fingers to count, Hunt came to Missouri on a football scholarship to Central Methodist University.

He transferred to Columbia College and graduated this year with a degree in criminal justice. It was here that he joined the national black fraternity Omega Psi Phi and decided he wanted to make his life about helping others.

"There’s a lot of my old friends who are disappointed in me now. They thought I was going to be a totally different dude," he said. "But I don’t even think about going back there. I don’t even look at it."

Today Hunt juggles a caseload of 85 young people who are either looking for work or looking for job skills. Most new enlistees undergo a four-day training seminar where they learn skills most said they never had access to.

Above: Anthony Carr processes images at Miller’s Professional Imaging. Columbia’s Youth Empowerment Zone helped Carr get a job as a quality assurance checker at Miller’s. 

"This is my first time looking for a job, so a lot of this stuff I’ve never thought about," said Chad Simmons, 16, a Hickman High School student whom Hunt took around to restaurants and retail stores last week to submit applications. "Just to feel comfortable in an interview and comfortable in a job environment is new."

Another person who said he owes a lot to Hunt is Anthony Carr, 21. Carr works as a quality assurance checker for Miller’s Professional Imaging. Carr came to Youth Empowerment Zone fresh off possession charges that followed him from his hometown of St. Louis. He said he came to Columbia to get away from the crime-plagued neighborhood where he grew up.

"It’s just basically like all my friends are doing it, so I decided I wanted to try it," Carr said. "And the first day I did it, I got caught."

When Carr came to the Youth Empowerment Zone, he already had computer skills - he can program and write HTML for the Web - but he needed job skills.

"I learned interviewing skills - basically how to act correctly on a job site, and not even just there, but in life," he said.

In Hunt, he found someone he could relate to. "That’s why he’s great for that program. It’s hard to talk to somebody who’s gotten spoon-fed their whole life. They haven’t been through the same situations you have, and they really can’t relate to what you’ve been through," Carr said.

Hunt put Carr in touch with Jerry Taylor, president of MFA Oil and a Youth Empowerment Zone board member. Taylor’s offices are across from Miller’s on East Point Drive, and he thought Carr would be a good fit there.

John Martin, production coordinator for the photo lab, said although Carr’s history raised some red flags during the hiring process, the fact that he was backed by Youth Empowerment Zone helped a lot.

"I was actually really glad to see that he was coming from some type of program where they expect results," Martin said. "He’s the first person we’ve hired from that type of program, and if we get more people like Anthony, we’re definitely open to hiring more."

Progress, though, has been slow for many of Hunt’s students. In the last fiscal year, 29 youngsters completed the job readiness training course, and 22 were placed in mentored employment. Only seven hung onto their jobs for 90 days. Some of the small gains can be explained because Hunt only worked for a portion of the year.

Hunt’s salary is up for renewal by the city of Columbia. Lawson has requested $45,000 to help pay for Hunt’s $26,000 salary, benefits and other costs associated with the program. The Community Service Commission, which recommends service spending levels to the city council, has suggested $15,000. Lawson will try to persuade the city council to open its pocketbook to make up the difference at an upcoming meeting, something he successfully accomplished last year.

The three-year-old group, which also offers a computer lab and assists students applying to college and preparing for ACT and SAT tests, has an annual operating budget of $181,000.

"We are actually in desperate need of another youth specialist," said Lawson, who added he regularly turns away young people because Hunt’s caseload is too great. "But we’re going to focus on keeping this one."

Hunt thinks he has found his niche and will devote his life to working with kids. He recalls a meeting recently where a fraternity brother who works in insurance offered to help him get a job. It would have meant a raise of almost $10,000. He turned it down.

"That’s not me. What I’ve got now, there’s nothing I’d trade it in for," he said.

Article provided by:  T.J. Greaney of Columbia Tribune
Reach T.J. Greaney at (573) 815-1719 or tjgreaney@tribmail.com.