Reaching the Unreachables

Out of the night that shadows Harlem's filth and fear, two 1960 Ford station wagons raced north on the New York State Thruway toward Tarrytown and the comfortable hilltop home of James Arthur Vaus Jr., an ex-convict once known as a wiretapper for West Coast Gangster Mickey Cohen. From the 'cars sprang a group of boys representing two rival East Harlem street gangs, the Young Conceiteds and the Untouchables. They swaggered to the front door, where waited Vaus, 41, and his first lieutenant, a Puerto Rican named Piri Thomas. 32. who once served six years for shooting a New York cop.

It seemed obvious that no good could come out of such an Apalachin Jr. sort of meeting between the young toughs and the two ex-cons. But the session had the full backing of New York City's police. For "Big Jim" Vaus and "Pete'' Thomas were trying to prevent a "bop," or gang fight, that might have ended in another bloody teenage killing on East Harlem's dark streets.

No Doubters. As the moving spirits of a remarkably successful East Harlem rehabilitation mission named Youth De velopment Inc., Vaus and Thomas are two of the most expert bop-busters in the business. They, along with the staff of the city Youth Board, are the reason why 1960 has seen only ten teenage gang killings, compared with 23 a year ago. Y.D.I. is essentially Vaus's baby. An experienced crook, Jim Vaus in 1949 got religion after meeting Billy Graham, turned evangelist himself, wrote a moderately successful book titled Why I Quit Syndicated Crime. His new vocation took him to East Harlem, where he became convinced that he could turn his talents to more practical purpose than pulpitry. Moving his family from the West Coast to Tarrytown, Vaus rounded up some 400 reform-minded financial supporters, set up Y.D.I. for boys in a Harlem front-store room. Around the corner he set up a girls' branch, fitted it out with hair dryers and other beauty parlor equipment, hired a woman to supervise activities there.

But Vaus still had trouble winning the confidence of East Harlem's ganglads. And it was not really until he met tough Pete Thomas, who spoke the language of East Harlem as it can only be spoken by those who have been raised in its asphalt jungle, that Vaus made significant headway. After Vaus persuaded Thomas to work full time with Y.D.I., the organization became an important factor in East Harlem life. Some might suspect Vaus and Thomas, with their criminal backgrounds, of being a couple of Fagin types, but the doubters do not include the cops, educators or social workers in East Harlem.

Says Edward Gersh, dean of discipline at Jefferson Park Junior High School: "The boys we recommend to Jim are the ones that are rejected by other agencies. I call them Unreachables. When Jim first came here, he said he wanted to work with the most difficult kids we had. I thought he'd be spinning his wheels, but I underestimated him. He managed to reach them."

Rice & Beans. Explaining Y.D.I.'s methods, Pete Thomas says: "You don't get anywhere by antagonizing a kid. You got to feel their feelings of anger and uncertainty, dig? That way-out feeling of wanting to hurt and not caring who. This is why I think Y.D.I, is so great--it's the arroz y habichuelas [rice and beans] the kids need."

Recently, a bop began between the Turbans and the Senators. How did it start? Nothin', nothin'. Thomas recalls, "A guy steps on another guy's shoes or looks at another guy's girl. Anything to relieve the boredom, keep their pride, their manhood, their status of not being punks. They got to show they're puro corazon [all heart]. O.K. There was supposed to be a fair fight between two guys --one Senator and one Turban. Chino was supposed to fight a guy from the Senators. But then another Turban pulls out a gun and he burns [shoots]. The Senators figure it's on: the Turbans are on a burn. We heard about it on Jim's car telephone. Jim asked me, 'Can you make contact?' I said I thought so."

The Burn's On. Pete walked into the Senators' hangout. "Hey, baby," he said, "what's happening?" "A little mess cookin' up, man," replied one kid. "They think we're punks, man. Tonight we're gonna mess that block. This is it, man." "Personally," said Pete, "I think you may have a good point. But who's the president around here?" "I am, dad," said a boy called Willy. "We don't want to hear nothin'. The burn's on, man." "So," 'said

Pete, "you supposed to be president, right? You can't be a punk, right?"

Willy replied: "No, man. I got heart, you know that, man." Pete corrected him: "You got a mind. Dig, man, I'm not tellin' you this to make you feel great. You don't like it, we deal [fight]." There was silence. Pete continued: "Look, Big Jim gave me instructions--you guys want to meet and talk. In your hands are the lives of your own boys. Dig, baby."

Pete had hit a nerve. The Senators said they would be willing to meet to talk peace terms with Turban leaders--but they were fearful lest the Turbans come armed. Said Pete Thomas: "You have our word--not a kid will be carrying a piece. Jim Vaus vouches for this. Never has Y.D.I, broken its word. Now, baby, you got a piece, a shank [knife], you pull it out it's gonna go down your throat." The Senators agreed to arbitration.

"We Ain't Punks!" Thomas next paid a call on the Turbans, sat down next to the president, stared silently at him for a few moments, then growled angrily: "I thought you had heart. Heart I don't doubt, baby; you got heart. But no brains in your head. Maybe I'm wrong. You tell me. Excuse me for blowing my top."

"Look. Pete," said the boy, "you know how it is, man. This is Little Ray's fault. He pulled out his piece." After long argument, the desired meeting was arranged for Vaus's place at Tarrytown. Pete arranged to pick up the Turban chieftains; another Y.D.I. worker collected the Senators. In Vaus's basement meeting room, the gang leaders began arguing: "You come into our block and burned us . . ." "Look, man, I ain't no punk, you know! . . ." Suddenly, Pete crashed his fist down on the table: "All right, you guys, you've been yakking for half an hour! Willy, look! This guy already told you he made a mistake. They admit they done something wrong. Will you accept?" "No. man," said Willy. "I told you one of our boys got hurt." Cried a Turban: "We ain't punks! You don't accept it that way. we burn--that's all."

Interjected Pete Thomas: "Look, Willy, what do you say when a guy says you're punk? That's what you're askin' them to do--give in, lose all dignity, all manhood, make punks out of them." That somehow hit home. Minutes later the Sen ators moved into another room to caucus about continuing the feud. When they returned, one shrugged: "It's off." And so it was.

From Y.D.I, headquarters in East Harlem last week came the sounds of a Christmas carol rehearsal (40 boys, eight girls). The Unreachables were, to be sure, a little short on harmony, but anybody who watched and listened could sense that Jim Vaus and Pete Thomas were infusing the lives of the tough kids with something very much like puro corazon.

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