Derrick Thomas ³

Delinquency History: Burglary and auto-theft. Referred to juvenile detention for 30 days, and sent to the Dade Marine Institute, an alternative school for youth for six months. Court ordered restitution on a charge of auto-theft when he was 18.

Tears rained down his face as his mother cradled 14-year-old Derrick Thomas, already over six feet tall, in her arms. After years of beating the system, of committing crimes and not getting caught, of conning adults with his engaging smile and winning personality, Thomas' number had finally come up. He was going to juvenile jail.

Placed on home confinement while awaiting trial on a burglary charge, his first juvenile court referral, Thomas repeatedly left the house. His pre-trial services officer, Ms. Gibson, had reached her breaking point. She pulled Thomas out of class and summoned him and his mother to her office to break the bad news. For the next 30 days, Thomas was going to be locked up in juvenile hall.

At the time, "getting locked up seemed like the worst thing that could happen to me," says Thomas, who went on to become a ten-time All-Pro Linebacker for the Kansas City Chiefs and one of the N.F.L.'s all time sack leaders. But getting involved in the juvenile justice system actually turned out to be "one of the most important breaks I ever got." Through the court, Thomas would meet several people who helped him turn his life around. His juvenile court experiences led him to set up his own foundation for troubled inner-city youths and inspired him to use his life to make a difference on behalf of other troubled youths.

Thomas was born in Miami, Florida on New Year's Day, 1967. He was raised by his mother Edith and his grandmother Annie Addams in Perrine, a middle-class neighborhood in Dade County. Soon after Thomas was born, his father, Robert Thomas, enlisted in the Air Force, rising through the ranks to become one of a select few black pilots. Around Christmas 1972, just before Thomas' sixth birthday, Capt. Robert Thomas' B-52 plane was shot down during a bombing mission over North Vietnam. First thought to be "missing in action," Capt. Thomas was finally declared "legally dead" in 1980, shortly before Thomas' 13th birthday.

It was around this time that Thomas started getting into trouble. He began to hang around with some boys from Circle Plaza, the housing projects on the other side of the large park which divided those with means from those without. Four of the boys were his cousins and the rest he had known since elementary school or had met at the park where he and all the other local teens spent their free time.

Ironically, Thomas' delinquency came at a time when he had all the material possessions he wanted. The Air Force had compensated him for his father's death, and Thomas used his share to buy bikes, mopeds, sports equipment and many other fashionable luxuries that other teens craved.

"I wasn't content with having everything, that was too easy," said Thomas. So he began acquiring things the hard way by stealing them. According to Thomas, his crew "could raise or lower the crime rate of Perrine on any given day if they chose to." He and his friends started stealing bikes, moved to mopeds, then motorcycles, and finally cars. Along the way, the group collected their own arsenal of weapons because "every time we stole a car there was a weapon in it."

Thomas' delinquency also occurred as he began to blossom as an athlete. He excelled in all sports but was especially adept at football and track. He was also a competitive BMX bike racer, rising to the rank of top rider in his age group in the State of Florida. Between sports and school, Thomas was busy, but when unsupervised and with his peers, trouble was never far away.

It was with his peers that Thomas picked up his first and only juvenile charge. Towards the end of 9th grade, Thomas and three of his friends planned to burglarize a home in the affluent section of town. Neighbors spotted the boys entering the home and called the police. After a long foot chase, Thomas was caught as he tried to cross a park. He was taken to the juvenile detention center, where he remained for a day before appearing in court.

According to Derrick, his crew "could raise and lower the crime rate on any given day if they chose to."

To Thomas, his first overnight stay at the detention center was no big deal.

"I knew everybody there and was pretty sure I'd be going home because I was a first-time offender," he said. His first court appearance was also uneventful and brief. A trial date was set, and he was set free but placed on home confinement. When he promptly violated the conditions of his release, however, his pretrial officer had him locked up.

"When Ms. Gibson told me I was going to be locked up, I cried and cried and cried to my mama," said Thomas. "Reality hit. I wasn't going home tomorrow."

His stint in detention was more painful. He got into several fights and spent some time in solitary confinement. Things got much worse before they got better. While in detention, he was assigned a counselor, Ms. Judy Gordon, who met with Thomas and told him that she was recommending he be sent to Dade Marine Institute (DMI), an alternative day school, in lieu of straight probation.

DMI was a favorite program of Judge William Gladstone, the juvenile court judge who presided over Thomas' case. Judge Gladstone accepted Ms. Gordon's recommendation. As Thomas was leaving the courtroom, in words which turned out to be prophetic, Thomas' Public Defender said to him, "I'm going to buy you some gloves for Christmas so you don't leave any of your fingerprints any place."

"When [they] told me I was going to be locked up, I cried and cried to my mama. . . . Reality hit. I wasn't going home tomorrow."

Thomas was despondent over being sent to DMI because it meant that he couldn't play football. But he soon took to the program and began to excel. He developed a special bond with the Director, Nick Millar, a collegiate wrestler, and his group counselor, Carl Lewis, a medical student who worked at DMI when not in school. They helped Thomas believe that he could play college football and get his degree. The program, which featured incentives for students who completed assigned tasks, inspired Thomas. He learned to set short-term, intermediate, and long-term goals, and he charted his daily progress. There was plenty of fun at the program as well, including canoe trips and scuba diving excursions, novel and challenging experiences for inner-city kids who rarely ventured outside their neighborhoods.

Most of the boys stayed at DMI for two or three years, earned their GEDs and stayed out of trouble—82% of those in Thomas' group did not re-offend. Thomas, however, had higher ambitions. He wanted to go back to South Miami, get his high school diploma and get a football scholarship to college. He finished the program in record time—approximately four months—and soon reenrolled at South Miami High.

Back at South Miami, Thomas lettered in four sports: baseball, football, basketball, and track. After playing tight-end and running back his junior year, a linebacker spot opened up before his senior year. He seized the opportunity and earned All-League Honors. The scholarship offers began rolling in. He chose the University of Alabama and signed a letter of intent. All he had to do was finish the school year without incident.

But a lapse in judgment almost cost Thomas everything. A few days after his senior prom, some of Thomas' buddies decided to steal a car for old times' sake. Thomas met up with them later and allowed them to store some of the stripped parts in his car. Later that evening, he began to have misgivings. He remembered his Public Defender's parting words, and feared he might have left his fingerprints on the stolen car. He convinced several friends, including one who also had a full athletic scholarship, to go back and wipe down the car. The police were there waiting.

Now eighteen, Thomas was an adult as far as the law was concerned. He and his friends spent a day in the county jail. When he finally got to court, he was greeted by the same PD who had represented him in juvenile court. Standing before the judge, his head bowed in shame, Thomas caught one final break. The judge ordered him to make restitution and told him "if I ever see you again, I'm going to give you the time you came for and the time I didn't give you this time." Thomas bolted from the court and never looked back.

At Alabama, Thomas became one of the most dominant defensive players in the country. Regarded as the nation's finest pass-rusher, Thomas set a school record with a total of 52 quarterback sacks. In 1988, his senior year, he won the coveted Dick Butkus award as the top linebacker in the country. Thomas was the first round draft pick of the Kansas City Chiefs and the fourth pick overall in the draft, following Troy Aikman, Tony Mandarich, and Barry Sanders.

Thomas had a stellar career with the Chiefs, making All-Pro each of his 10 years in the league, becoming the Chief's all-time sack leader and surpassing the 100-sack milestone faster than any other linebacker in league history.

"The stigma that is put on kids in the juvenile justice system is wrong; every kid is not a bad kid . . . all they need is an opportunity."

His on the field efforts were eclipsed by his charitable efforts off the field. Early on at Alabama, while majoring in criminal justice and social work, Thomas vowed that he would "try to make a difference" by working with kids in the juvenile justice system. In his first year after joining the Chiefs, Thomas contacted Judge Gladstone seeking advice on how he could help kids. Judge Gladstone told Thomas that there were many programs for kids once they got in trouble, especially children who were over 13, but a real need for prevention programs for kids aged 9 to 13.

With help from Judge Gladstone and others, Thomas founded the Third and Long Foundation, a program dedicated to helping inner-city children improve their reading skills. Over the years, the program has grown to provide social, cultural, recreational, and educational opportunities to 58 children in three Kansas City middle schools. During the summer, the kids attend an outdoor summer camp with character building activities modeled after some of those Thomas experienced at DMI. Thomas' community service activities earned him the NFL's most prestigious service awards, including the NFL Edge Man of the Year and the Byron "Whizzer" White Humanitarian Award. Former President George Bush chose Thomas as the 832nd out of his 1,000 "Points of Light"—the only NFL Player to be so honored.

Thomas became a powerful advocate for delinquent children; in 1991 he testified before a Congressional Subcommittee on Crime and Criminal Justice, asking for an increase in prevention funding. Following this appearance, he became the first non-Supreme Court Justice to address the Missouri General Assembly, urging State lawmakers to provide Missouri children with the same opportunities that he had through DMI. In reflecting upon his experiences, Thomas was quick to credit the juvenile justice system as having made "all the difference" in his life. "If I could do one thing to improve it, I'd want every kid in the system to have the chance to go through a program like DMI."

Thomas especially valued the fact that his past was kept confidential and that it was his choice to reveal it: "Unless I give you my background, you have no reason to view me as other than the nice guy that I've presented myself as to you," he said. "The stigma this puts on kids in the juvenile justice system is wrong; every kid is not a bad kid, they may do bad things, but all they need is an opportunity. The juvenile justice system gave me that second chance."

In public speaking engagements, Derrick told audiences the same thing he said in testimony before the United States Congress and the Missouri General Assembly, words which are a fitting epilogue to this profile: "I come to you today to say you can make a difference and to tell you that there are any number of success stories in the juvenile justice system, just like mine," he said.