Every Kid is born good to Police Athletic League
 

By Justo Bautista
Herald & News Staff Writer

Youngsters on crowded street corner and front porches cast, wary eyes on a white van a recent sweltering afternoon as it traveled along Rosa Parks Boulevard in Paterson, a narrow street lined with faded tenements empty lots, and burned-out buildings. "Your window rolled up?" the driver, Steven Olimpio, asked a passenger.


Screams and giggles filled the air as a torrent of water from an open fire hydrant struck the side of the van.

Several youths who recognized Olimpio – he used to be a narcotics detective – suddenly remembered they had more pressing matters elsewhere as the war stopped in front of an abandoned house.



Tied to a fence was a spray-painted can was memorial to a 15-year-old who died in the drug-related ambush of five people in July. "R.I.P. Tyeem," the memorial said referring to Tyeem Price.
 

Olimpio, now executive director of the Paterson Police Athletic League, was back on familiar ground. By his own estimation, he and fellow narcotics officers had made hundreds of drug arrests in the neighborhood.

But on this afternoon, Olimpio, accompanied by Augie Feloa, PAL Board member, had stopped by to pay respect to a kid they couldn´t save. And as PAL disciples, they wanted to drum in the message that there are people who care about the city´s nearly 30,000 school-age youngster.

Price, known for his love of bicycles and animals, had been a PAL football player. But the city´s Pal programs can only afford to enroll youngsters 8 to 14 years old. "After 14 we don´t have anything; we can´t afford anything," Olimpio said. " After 14, we lose the kids. We have to come up with the program to expand to 14 –to 15-year old kids. It doesn´t have to be sports."
 

Youngsters gathered around as Olimpio and Feola worked the streets, handing out blue and white PAL pamphlets. "You know, between you and me it was nothing personal; it was just my job." Olimpio told one youth he had a close encounter. The youth nodded.

"All they see out there is money, sex, and drugs," said a 15 year-old, referring to his peers. "They want help, but they´re too street-struck, man."
 

Feola´s philosophy is simple: There is no such thing as a bad kid. "If you grab the at a young age, they can turn around," he said. "In Paterson, that what kids want, a place for recreation, No.1, and jobs, No. 2."

Going from house to house, Olimpio´s audience seemed attentive. "If you put up enough of a voice, you´re going to get what you want. But we have to work together," Olimpio told a woman whose front shingles were peppered with shotgun pellets, a grim reminder of the July ambush.
 

"If a kid has a problem, I want him to come to me," Olimpio said. "The way I look at it, every kid is born good. It´s the environment that brings him down."

Darren ""Pigeon" Hawthorne, a neighborhood football coach, approached Olimpio. "Tyeem, the one who died, great kid, but he was out here on the corner because there was nothing for him to do,´ Hawthorne said. "They might do their little thing, but it´s for survival. This thing that happened. There´s nothing for them to do. Somebody´s got to do something to keep them off the streets."

Olimpio still does not understand why PAL programs seem to be one of the best-kept secrets in the city. The program has nine football teams, four soccer teams, a tennis camp, a track team, and a girl´s basketball team, and sponsors trips. Most youngsters find out about the program from their peers.
 

Even though the program is in its sixth year, PAL officials have to beg for donations every year. When Olimpio is not on the field overseeing programs, he is on the phone trying to drum up support. He has also used his detective skills to track down potential donors. Police officers donate about $12,000 a year, a drop in the bucket.
 

The biggest disappointment has been the business community. "Most donate $25," Olimpio said. Recently, Murphy Bus Co. of Hawthorne donated a school bus.
 

In his best dream Olimpio opens the door to his office one morning and finds on his desk a check for $50,000 – the amount they will need this year to continue many of the programs.

After they left the neighborhood, Olimpio and Feola drove to Riverside Oval a few blocks away to watch a football practice. One youngster, near tears, approached Feola. "I can´t play! They don´t got any more uniforms!" the youngster said. He had heard Olimpio talk about the programs in the Rosa Parks neighborhood and had walked to the Riverside Oval. "Do you believe in miracles?" Feola asked, putting his arm around the youngsters shoulder. Feola called lout to Olimpio, who talked to one of the coaches. The youngster, now smiling, got to practice.

Later, Olimpio, thinking about the dream said, "There might not be enough uniforms for all those kids."