The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Monday, December 12, 1994              TAG: 9412120069
SECTION: LOCAL                    PAGE: B1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY JUNE ARNEY, STAFF WRITER 
DATELINE: NORFOLK                            LENGTH: Long  :  160 lines

STREETS CRUSH TEEN'S POTENTIAL HE HAD STREET SMARTS IN HIS CORNER, BUT NOW HE'S BACK IN THE NORFOLK JAIL

In 1992, authorities touted Calvin Outlaw as a star of the Street Smart program, which helps youths with drug convictions straighten out their lives.

The one-time crack dealer was president of his Street Smart class and sold more Street Smart T-shirts than anyone else. He was befriended by a local auto dealer who made him her special project and gave him a job as a lot attendant.

The aim of the Street Smart program is happy endings. But Calvin Outlaw's story has no happy ending.

Today, Outlaw sits in the Norfolk Jail. He pleaded guilty on Dec. 2 to possession of cocaine and received a 6-month sentence. On Thursday, he faces trial for murder.

It's not what his Street Smart leaders had in mind. It's not what he hoped for himself.

But the program isn't to blame, he says.

``People can't do anything but benefit from that program,'' he said. ``But you can't let anything get in your way, 'cause the least little thing can get you off track. I didn't stay focused like I was supposed to. I didn't keep my eye on that prize.

``I blinked.''

During a recent interview, Outlaw, now 19, said he disappointed program officials.

``I feel like I kind of let them down,'' he said. ``If they know me, they know I didn't do it (the murder). I feel like I could have had more self-control. I really didn't have to be in that scene.''

Outlaw seemed unable to break free of his past, said the director of Street Smart program.

``I saw all the pieces happening, but I couldn't stop them,'' said Fred McCaskill-Baker. ``It's bigger than me and the program.''

Calvin Outlaw was a product of the streets of Diggs Town. It was a life of drugs and guns and easy money. He claims to have carried an Uzi at age 9. He would pay $500 for 14 grams of crack and sell it for $1,500.

It was a lifestyle that got him shot, and later sent to the Norfolk Detention Center in 1992 as accessory to an armed robbery after a rap concert at the Hampton Coliseum.

When he was released, two things happened to turn his life around: Street Smart and his friendship with Peggy Kimnach, owner of Kimnach Ford. She gave him a job.

``That lady kept my baby alive,'' said Outlaw, who now has two daughters. ``She'd give me money to take my baby to the doctor when she was sick.''

Kimnach gave him spending money and paid for his school lunches. She also insisted he play by the rules.

``I told him point-blank, `If you screw up, you go back,' '' she said. ``He had gotten a lot of dirty breaks in life, and he seemed to be trying so hard. I told him the big money would get him shoveled off the street.''

The two parted ways when a brand-new $28,000 Ford Explorer disappeared off the Kimnach lot last winter and surfaced in a downtown Norfolk car lot with Outlaw's jacket in the back seat - a jacket she said she had bought him. Kimnach said she heard that Outlaw had been trying to sell the Explorer for $5,000. Kimnach didn't press charges.

Outlaw denies he stole the Explorer and says the jacket wasn't his.

``That lady was far too kind for me to do something like that,'' he said. ``That's the lowest. I wouldn't do her like that.''

Kimnach said she was saddened by the recent developments in his life.

``He could have made something of himself,'' she said. ``I really thought this was going to be one of the kids we were going to salvage. I really thought we had pulled him out of the gutter. He was going to be an asset to the community.''

And then there was Street Smart. McCaskill-Baker says more than 200 youths have been through the program since it started four years ago. Sixty graduated.

``We've got them in the Army, Navy, in college, getting married - those are our success stories,'' he said.

The program costs about $43,000 a year and serves 75 youths, he said. The idea is to keep people out of the justice system and to show them there are people who care.

McCaskill-Baker said only four of the 60 graduates have gotten back in trouble for drugs.

``That's tremendous odds,'' he said.

Of Outlaw, he said: ``I'm not disappointed in Calvin because I know him too well. He still has my respect. He's doing the best he can under the circumstances. He's in a war. He's just trying to come out of it the best he can. If I ran into Calvin today, he'd still be my friend.''

The program leader said Outlaw is mature and hardened on the surface, but sensitive and caring inside. He is loyal to his family and friends, disciplined and not hot-headed. He struggles with self-esteem when he doesn't have money. He's a street survivor addicted to the prestige and power of dealing drugs and enamored with the excitement and adventure it brings.

Outlaw's secret to success in groups is his ability to win respect and convince people that that he believes in them, McCaskill-Baker said.

``I respect him,'' he said. ``He's a businessman. I'd go into a situation with him anytime. I trust him.''

McCaskill-Baker knows that every participant in the program cannot expect a fairy-tale ending, but Outlaw's troubles hit especially hard.

``I'm angry that he wasted so much,'' McCaskill-Baker said. ``He could be running for office or president of a company. It's a great loss.''

Early in Outlaw's career at the car dealership, there was a confrontation on the lot with his mother and her boyfriend over one of his paychecks, McCaskill-Baker said. By all accounts, the confrontation was a turning point of sorts for Outlaw.

``After that, I didn't really have any pride in my job anymore,'' Outlaw said. ``I wasn't about to let anything I worked honestly for be taken away.''

He admits he got back into selling drugs on a small scale soon afterward. ``Times was getting hard as far as money,'' he said. ``I couldn't even get money for my baby's milk. I was doing anything I could do to get a dollar.''

Outlaw said he pleaded guilty to the drug charge after being stopped by a police officer who found two empty plastic bags containing crack residue in Outlaw's coat pocket.

On Aug. 28, Outlaw returned to Diggs Park for the first time in a long time. His timing was poor. It was the night Ronald G. Bonney Jr. was killed.

Outlaw's friend of several years, Chauncey Jackson, was charged with capital murder in Bonney's death. Jackson implicated Outlaw in the robbery and murder. Jackson faces a capital murder trial Feb. 27, and Outlaw could face a life sentence on a first-degree murder charge. Outlaw says he wasn't involved in the crime. Police say he was present when Bonney was killed and drove off in the dead man's car with Jackson.

When you ask Outlaw what went wrong in his life, he describes a childhood shadowed by crime. He's stolen 10 cars in his life but driven as many as 50 stolen cars, he says. There were robberies. Then his friends introduced him to drugs.

``They gave me drugs to sell,'' he said. ``I started liking the money. After I got into drugs, I left stolen cars. It was like I graduated. It resulted in me getting shot.''

On June 3, 1991, a man tried to rob Outlaw and shot him in the leg and side. The gunman spent about 12 months in jail and never paid Outlaw restitution for his medical bills. As far as Outlaw was concerned, the justice system failed him.

Outlaw says he thinks his life might have unfolded differently if he could have gotten away from Campostella and stayed with his grandmother, who now lives in North Carolina. But because of her religious beliefs, she didn't want him living in her home with his girlfriend and their baby, he said.

Whatever happens now, Outlaw would like to be a Big Brother for Street Smart. ``Helping someone else from my own experience is what I call learning from your own mistakes,'' he said.

Outlaw's daughters are 2 and 3. He seems to dote on them. Since he's been in jail, he's had their names, Latefah and Shala, tattooed on his right arm. He talks about getting out of jail and watching them grow up in his house.

He praises Street Smart for being there when he got out of detention.

``If it wasn't for Street Smart, I probably would have gotten right out of detention and done more crimes,'' he said. ``I had nothing positive to look forward to.''

Outlaw said he has lost nine friends to murder. He also lost an uncle he looked to as his father, brother and best friend.

``Tell all those kids out there doing that wild stuff to let it go,'' he said. ``Life is too short. Too many of their friends are getting killed. Why can't anyone else see that people are dying because of really stupid stuff?'' MEMO: Staff writer Joe Jackson contributed to this report.Staff writer Joe

Jackson contributed to this report.

ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Paul Aiken, Staff

"Tell all those out there doing that wild stuff to let it go. Life

is too short. Too many of their friends are getting killed." -

Calvin Outlaw

KEYWORDS: MURDER by CNB