Finding Her Own Calcutta

By STEVE LOPEZ

For those who have been wondering exactly what compassionate conservatism means, we've found an explanation better than anything George W. Bush has uttered. A wealthy Los Angeles businesswoman named Noel Irwin Hentschel can be called a compassionate conservative, although, like other Republicans, she's insulted by the implication that to be both things at once constitutes a genetic breakthrough.

When the U.S. Supreme Court ruling on chads and other electoral alligators finally rolled in and Bush made his victory speech, Irwin Hentschel watched with her family in their gated French colonial mansion in the exclusive Bel Air section. Outside, a Rolls-Royce and a Jaguar were parked in the driveway. Irwin Hentschel was moved to tears and was perhaps more inspired than usual to say goodbye to her clan (which includes seven children) and board an SUV for a weekly nocturnal mission that sometimes means wearing a bulletproof vest. Her driver transported her across the universe--a 30-minute trip--to the domain of Crips and Bloods, crackheads and vast tabletop acres of bottom-rung folk who are none of the above.

"I spent part of my childhood in South Central L.A., which was a different place then," says Irwin Hentschel, 49, who began police ride-alongs three years ago to get the scoop on problems she can address through her Noel Foundation. The foundation exists because in 1988, Irwin Hentschel met Mother Teresa at a convention for successful young entrepreneurs and was thoroughly inspired. Irwin Hentschel and a partner had started a travel company in 1977, when she was 25. AmericanTours International, which operates U.S. tours for foreigners, now employs 300 and does $150 million a year in business. "[Mother Teresa] said each of us has to find our own Calcutta," says Irwin Hentschel, who promised the nun she'd use her business savvy to help the world's neediest people, especially women and children, help themselves. Her foundation supports humanitarian causes in several countries, but rather than sit behind a desk writing checks, Irwin Hentschel likes wading in.

"I need everyone's window down so I can hear gunshots, and in case I need to return fire," announces Officer Kamal Ahmad, 26, a Spanish-speaking, California-born Pakistani American in his sixth year with the L.A. County sheriff's department. During five hours with Ahmad and an L.A.P.D. officer on another ride, Irwin Hentschel will be in on a stolen-car pursuit, see drug dealers scatter like pigeons, hear the story of a transvestite hooker, get an education on drugs and guns and how they rule all manner of life, and be pasted to the backrest when shots ring out and Officer Ahmad rockets through the streets in search of the source.

But the telling moment is when Ahmad stops 37-year-old Tammy, who's out for a bike ride at 1 a.m., trying to score some crack. Irwin Hentschel gently coaxes Tammy's story out of her. Drug rehab failed twice, and the latest of her 13 children is a crack baby. Tammy's boyfriend shows up, and the two lead Irwin Hentschel back to their home, a makeshift tent next to an abandoned house. "It's Calcutta," Irwin Hentschel says, looking in. "On the one hand, I want to say, 'Pull yourself together.' And on the other side of it, you think, 'There but for the grace of God go I.'"

Irwin Hentschel ran unsuccessfully for California Lieutenant Governor in 1998. A friend on the Bush transition team asked her to send along a resume, but she hasn't heard anything. She salutes the mantra of smaller government and more individual responsibility, but she believes "more hands-on involvement from Republicans" would help them better understand the complexities of life beyond the Beltway and the boardroom.

Irwin Hentschel called a fellow street soldier, and it looks like Tammy will get another try at rehab. An old joke about the elder Bush's social policy went like this: A thousand points of light, batteries not included. Noel Irwin Hentschel comes with batteries. Are there 999 more of her?

With reporting by David S. Jackson, Los Angeles

With reporting by David S. Jackson, Los Angeles