Stan Faddis, Probation Officer-Part 3

Here is the next installment of my years as a P.O. These are a few of the characters I ran across when I worked there.

Eddie Carson

One day, I was working in Boys Receiving (BR) on the 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. shift. Boys Receiving was where kids were processed in and out of Juvenile Hall (JH). When a minor was admitted to JH, he was required to put all his own clothes, shoes and belongings in lockers and change into the Hall’s clothes. These included underwear, brown pants with an elastic waist band, a t-shirt and slip on deck shoes because shoelaces were not allowed. Upon being released the minors were dressed out in the clothes they had left in the locker.

Shortly before each meal, a cafeteria worker would wheel in a cart containing food trays and milk. These were used for feeding new admits and other kids who would be sent there for disciplinary reasons during meal times. That evening I received a telephone call from one of the units GC's named Frank Marsh advising me he was sending a minor down to eat dinner in BR. The minor’s name was Eddie Carson, who at that time was about age 16, and he had virtually been raised most of his life in Juvenile Hall. Eddie’s father sold roses in downtown San Jose, peddling his wares in front of bars and restaurants. Eddie possessed zero personal hygiene habits and no desire to acquire them. This resulted in horrible body odor, greasy hair and very bad breath. 

Frank told  me that his unit was getting ready to go on a dinner movement. The problem was that Eddie had refused to shower and he stunk so badly that the kids did not want to be near him, especially in the close quarters of a double single-file line. I asked Frank how long it would be before they were to move out. He said, “About 30 minutes.” I told him to send Eddie to me so I could get him showered and back to the unit in time for the meal movement. Frank said, “Stan, you don’t understand. He will not shower and refuses everyday to do so.” I told him not to worry and to send him to me. 

When Eddie entered the door he headed straight for the food cart to get his food. I stopped him and asked what he was doing. He said he was sent down there to eat dinner because they would not allow him to go on the meal movement. I called him over closer to me at the desk which was right next to the boys receiving bathroom. I told him to get undressed, get in the shower and clean up so that he could go back to his unit before dinner. He replied, "F**k that! I’m not going to take a shower. I don’t like showering." I again told him to get in there and take a shower and he again refused. At that point I removed my shirt and laid it on the desk. Then I unbuckled my pants and began to pull them down. Eddie, wide-eyed, asked me what I was doing. I said, "I’m gonna take you into the shower and make sure you clean up and I don't want to get my clothes wet." Evidently, he believed me and within 10 seconds he was stripped down and heading for the shower. 15 minutes later I called his unit and told them I was sending the minor back in time to make the meal movement. I assured Frank that Eddie was clean, had freshly combed hair, clean clothes and was fit to be around others. Frank asked me how I managed to accomplish this to which I replied, "You don't want to know." My method and the details of the incident eventually got around the Hall and I was surprised that I was never reprimanded for it. However, there is no way this stunt would be tolerated in today's Juvenile Hall.

In about 2005 I went to lunch with a female coworker at Togo’s. As we sat outside eating, a guy came up behind and said, “Would you like to buy a rose for your lady?” I declined, saying she wasn’t my lady, she was my coworker. I didn’t look at him because he was behind me. I heard him shuffle off to solicit someone else. I looked in his direction when he was about 100 feet away. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hollered, “Eddie!” He turned to look at me and I called him over. I asked him if he was Eddie Carson and if he  remembered me. He said he was but did not recognize me. I told him I knew him from Juvenile Hall and asked him old he was now. He said he wasn’t sure but thought he was 34. I thought how sad it was that he really didn’t know his age and that he had not experienced very many birthday celebrations in his life. He turned and left in search of his next customer. 

Jesus Vega

Over the years, I have had a number of chance encounters with former residents of Juvenile Hall around Santa Clara County. The world outside the Hall is referred to as “the outs.” I have probably had 30 to 40 such unexpected meetings with these kids, some of whom were no longer kids by the time I saw them again. The last one I recall was as I was walking into the Probation offices and heard someone yell, “Hey, Mr. Faddis!” I looked behind me to see a man running toward me, so I stopped. When he got there he said, “Mr. Faddis, do you remember me?” He looked somewhat familiar and I said so but I didn’t remember his name. I knew that since he had called me “mister” it must have been one the former residents. He told me his name and I asked him what he was doing there. He said, “I am going in to visit my son in the Hall.” I asked him how old he was and he replied, “35.” He explained he was doing well now, but that his son who was 14 was now “caught up in the life.” I told him I was sorry about that and after chatting a bit we parted ways.

Every other time I have run into a former minor, with the exception of once, was like the one I described above. Every time this occurred, the person always called me “mister” and they often told me how well they were doing, that they were working, married and had children.  Several of them thanked me for how I had treated them inside saying I was fair and encouraging. They often mentioned other GC’s who had had a positive impact on them including Mr. Crockett, Mr. McKee and Mr. Montgomery. These three men were the ones I was most often asked about. 

The exception I mentioned above happened at the Costco on Senter Road in San Jose. By this time, I had been promoted to Probation Officer and had not worked in Juvenile Hall for about a year. I was shopping at the store and stopped to look at an item. While deciding to buy it or not, I got the feeling that someone was looking at me. I looked around and saw a young man of about 17 staring at me from approximately 15 feet away. I shrugged it off because I am so large that I often have people stare at me, usually small children or the developmentally disabled. However, after a couple of minutes of this, I couldn’t contain my curiosity. I walked over to him and said, “Do I know you?” He replied angrily, “F**king a you know me! You almost broke my arm in Juvenile Hall!” 

Now, I will admit my memory can sometimes be sketchy, but I know I had never laid hands on this kid. During my 13 years working in the Hall, I had restrained many kids in order to break up fights or to control kids who refused to comply with verbal commands. However, it was not usually my practice to hurt kids or put so much pressure on their joints as to cause injury. I told the minor that I did not remember this and that I was certain I did not ever restrain him. This angered him even more because he believed I was lying and unwilling to take responsibility for it. I asked him his name, thinking that it would jar my memory, but he refused to tell me. We went back and forth for several minutes. He said, “I’m here with my big brother. I’m gonna go find him and he’s gonna kick your a**!” By this time I was tired of dealing with him and I said, “Go find him. I’ll be right outside the front door.” 

Just then, a Costco security guy approached and told us to break it up. I told him that the two of us were going outside. He told we were not going to do that and instructed me, “You go that way” pointing toward the back of the store. He told the minor to go the other way. So, I did what he said, walked down the aisle, turned the corner and headed to the exit. When I got outside, the minor was out there with his big brother who, fortunately, was less hotheaded than his sibling. I explained to him what the problem was and again denied I had harmed his little brother. I told him I had never seen the kid and that he wouldn’t tell me his name. Big brother said his little brother’s name was Jesus Vega. The younger one glared at me and started to say something, but his older brother told him to be quiet. He went on to say that it was my word against that of Jesus and that sometimes his little brother got “mixed up” about things in his life. We parted amicably even though Jesus continued to “mad dog” me.

The following day, when I went to work, I walked from my office over to the Records area in the Hall and looked for Jesus Vega’s file. Leafing through it I discovered an Incident Report (IR) which described a restraint of Vega during a fight he had with another resident. Two things in that IR made me smile. First, I was not the one one who had restrained him. Second, I had been on the scene after it was all over because I was the Acting Supervisor that day and had signed the IR after reviewing it. 

Several weeks later, I happened to be in B3 to visit my friend and former coworker, Ron McKee. When I walked into the unit, McKee was sitting behind the desk so I approached, glanced quickly to my right and saw several minors in the activity area and began talking to Ron. A minute or so later, I heard someone behind me say, “Been to Costco lately?” I turned to see Jesus Vega sitting there, locked up again. I pulled him aside with the intention of setting him straight about his mistaken identification of me. Before I could start, he said, “You know something? That day when I saw you at Costco, I was thinking about it later and I remembered it wasn’t you who almost broke my arm, it was that other white guy!” I didn’t bother telling him that the “other white guy” is less than half my size.  

Larry Muller

Some of the GC’s in Juvenile Hall were quite colorful characters but Larry Muller led the pack. He was of German descent and had worked as a Night Attendant at the James Boys’ Ranch for many years before being hired as a GC in the Hall. I first met him when he was in his 50’s in the Hall. The man was opinionated, a know-it-all and was gruff with everyone. His surliness was despised by both the minors and staff. 

At this point, I should give the reader some information regarding court cases and other information regarding the justice process. In the adult court system defendants are arraigned, tried and found guilty. However, in the juvenile system the youthful offenders are called minors. In the event that a crime is committed a petition is filed, the minor adjudicated, and the petition found true. Minors are not “tried” or “convicted, they are “adjudicated” and the equivalent of being found guilty is that the “petition found true.”

During the 13 years I worked in Juvenile Hall, some minors who were adjudicated and their petitions found true, were allowed to serve their sentences in juvenile hall on the weekends. We referred to them as “weekenders” and they came into the Hall on Friday at 5 PM and released at 5 PM the following Sunday. During the mid-90’s Juvenile Hall became overcrowded (one of many times) and so on some Fridays, the Presiding Juvenile Court Judge (PJ) would instruct Juvenile Hall to refuse admittance to minors on that particular weekend due to the overcrowding.

On one of these such Fridays, Larry Muller was working alone in the Police Admissions area where police brought in new admits and minors reported for the weekend. A 15-year-old minor walked in the door to be admitted and Larry told him, “We’re not taking weekenders, the Hall is overcrowded.” The minor said, “My Dad just dropped me off and is heading for Tahoe for the weekend. He’ll be back Sunday to get me. No one is home.” (This was in the days before cell phones so the kid couldn't just call to have his father come back to pick him up). The Supervisor Group Counselor (SGC) on duty was in the cafeteria across the campus as was routine during mealtimes. Larry did not bother to call him about what he should do. He just made a unilateral decision to turn away the minor. Muller told him, “It’s not my problem. You can’t stay here this weekend.”  

The minor told Muller he had no way to get home and that the doors were locked anyway. Muller reiterated it was not his concern and gave the minor bus money to get home. The minor subsequently want home and broke a window to gain entrance to the residence. Being left unsupervised for the weekend, he took the keys to his father’s other car and went for drive. Upon making an illegal turn on his joy ride, a San Jose Police Officer stopped him. Upon investigation, the officer learned his tale. He cited the minor for Breaking and Entering, Auto Theft and being an Unlicensed Driver. He transported the minor to Juvenile Hall where he was admitted for committing those offenses. 

That Sunday, the minor’s father came into Police Admissions to pick up his son. He was told that the boy was now in custody for new charges and could not be released. Imagine his anger when he found that his car was impounded, would cost him $250 to get it back and that he also was out the cost to repair a broken window. 

Fortunately for the Department and Larry Muller too, the minor had not been hurt while driving his dad’s stolen car. I presume Muller was reprimanded in some way, but I’m not certain how. I do know that he was never allowed to work in Police Admissions from that day forward.

It seemed as if Muller was happiest when he was complaining about something or someone. As previously mentioned, he had worked for many years at the Boys’ Ranch in Morgan Hill. More than once I heard him griping about a woman he had worked with down there. He despised her for unspecified reasons and often called her “that stupid b***h.” He also ranted that she had falsified her job application and did not have the education she had claimed on her application. People wondered why he loathed her so much or why he cared about her educational qualifications.  By the way, Muller claimed that he had his Doctorate in Rocket Science or something. Some folks wondered why such a highly trained  person was working in the juvenile system. 

At any rate, his ranting about the woman piqued the interest of an SGC who then pulled Muller’s personnel file to take a look at his job application submitted years previously.  He listed a university in the Eastern US where he had acquired his degree many years prior. Out of curiosity,  a Probation Manager (PM) contacted the school to verify Muller’s date of graduation the degree he received. The school official advised the PM that there was no record of Muller earning a degree from the school. In fact, no records could be found that he had even been enrolled there. The result was that Muller was immediately fired and he lost all of his pension- approximately 25 years’ worth down the tubes.