Revisiting School a Little Older, Lots Wiser

“Some people have to hit bottom before they turn their lives around,” said George Carter, standing outside his alma mater, Silverado Continuation High School in Mission Viejo, and sounding older than his 20 years.

For Carter, that bottom was a Utah jail cell that included a large, threatening cellmate.

Carter landed there two years ago after a dangerously crazy getaway in a truck he and a buddy had stolen from an Orange County firefighter.

Ditching school and driving to see friends in Michigan, the two were spotted speeding in the southwestern Utah town of Hurricane. When a police officer tried to pull them over, they sped off on Interstate 15, trying to outrun the patrol car. More than 30 miles later, after the officer learned the truck was stolen and he radioed ahead for help at the next town, Carter and his friend tried to get away by hurtling over freeway medians, crashing through fences and at least once driving the wrong way on the highway.

At one point, they hit a bump and two motorcycles--also stolen--flew out of the back of the truck. The chase ended when Carter and his buddy, a juvenile, got out of the truck and tried to run away. But both were caught.

Contacted two days later at the jail, Carter said he had been crying, praying, reading the Bible and thinking about what he had done. His analysis then:

“It was a very big mistake.”

Now, two years later, on probation after spending time in jail in both Utah and California for the crime spree, Carter says the experience helped him straighten out his life.

Today he is taking a few classes at Saddleback College, working in a shoe store and teaching an aerobics class to pay off $12,000 in fines and restitution. He attends church and hopes to attend a Christian college to become a youth pastor. And lately he has volunteered to talk to high school students, encouraging them to believe in themselves and work toward goals without making the mistakes he did.

Earlier this week, he was invited back to Silverado for Alumni Day. Carter had attended the school--for students on work-study programs or who have had difficulties on a traditional campus--for a year, transferring there from Laguna Hills High when his grades slipped. He missed graduation because he was in jail, although he later earned his high school equivalency degree.

Speaking to several dozen Silverado students, Carter candidly admitted he didn’t like school when he was there, and only after he got in trouble did he realize how much his teachers cared about him.

But while he was at school, he said, he was going through what he calls “typical teen-ager problems,” rebelling against his parents’ authority and wanting more independence. He began stealing car stereos with his buddy, then cars, and eventually they began breaking into houses. They sold their stolen property in East Los Angeles, often trading the goods for better break-in tools.

“I guess I wanted some recognition,” he said. Of the house burglaries, he said, “I was terrified, but I did it anyway.”

One of his Silverado teachers, Georgie Mourer, remembers Carter well. He was in her self-esteem class, “and he gave us a run for his money. There was a week when he wouldn’t talk. Not a word. It was an attention-getter.”

When Carter disappeared from school and turned up in a Utah jail, she recalled, “I was so disappointed and hurt. All that talent--we could see it, and he wouldn’t let it go.”

Today, Carter tries to tell students what he refused to realize when he was at Silverado: “There is life after high school. You’re going to be somewhere, and that decision of where to be is up to you. And everything you do, you’re going to pay for. Life is not getting high after school. That doesn’t lead anywhere. You guys will be adults in a couple of years. Whether or not you act like an adult is up to you.”

Jail, Carter said, forced him to re-examine his life.

“Every bad thing you’ve ever heard about jail is totally true,” he told the students.

Had Carter received the maximum sentence for the crimes he committed in Utah--not counting the theft and burglary charges awaiting him in California--he was looking at eight years in the slammer, he said. His parents at first refused to bail him out, a move Carter said he appreciated only later. After two months in jail, though, he was released to a family friend, who persuaded the judge the then-18-year-old could be rehabilitated better on the outside.

Linked up with a Christian rescue mission, Carter spent a week on Skid Row, helping the homeless. Then he was sent to a church program at a ranch in San Diego, “where I started to learn discipline. . . . That’s where I started to grow up and change,” he said.

He returned home, where an arrest warrant for several burglary and theft charges awaited him. He spent four months in a county work furlough program, working at a store during the day and sleeping in a jail cell at night.

As for his partner in crime, he no longer is friends with him. “Now I hang around people who lift me up. It’s too easy to be dragged down,” he said.

Carter told the students he is still paying for his crimes. It will take years to pay off the $12,000, and getting a job with a felony record is not easy. But he has the support of his parents, with whom he lives and now enjoys a good relationship.

He still feels guilt for what he did, he said in an interview.

“I hurt a lot of people,” he said. “I’ve struggled with this. How could I do what I did? It’s kind of hard to live with.”

Carter said he knows he still has much to learn, but is certain he will not break the law again.

“It’s like when you touch a hot skillet. You learn that it hurts and you don’t touch it again,” he said. “I’m ashamed of what I did, but I don’t regret one bit of what I learned from it.”