Prison layoffs more than just numbers

Employees represent families with fears

[August 07, 2009]  The headlines about Illinois' budget woes are filled with numbers.

• Billions in deficits are in news reports and stories. Depending on who is quoting whom, it ranges anywhere from $8 billion to $11 billion.

• 2,600 state employee layoffs.

• 1,000 layoffs possible in the Department of Corrections alone.

• 419 Department of Corrections staff received layoff notices the beginning of this week.

What often gets lost when it relates to jobs is that each number singularly and personally represents a person, a breadwinner in a family. No matter how large or small the number, when it comes to layoffs, each separate number buried in the larger number counts as families being disrupted.

It also means that another part of the American dream of working hard for good wages is being lost.

On Thursday at Logan Lanes, three of those DOC employees who have received their layoff packets from the state spoke about their thoughts and what the layoffs will mean to them and their families. The conversations weren't about politics, or who is at fault, or who made what mistakes. The conversations were about the reality of what happens when young people who believed they had solid, good-paying careers find that might no longer be the case.

All three state employees are bright, articulate, family-oriented people. Now, after receiving their layoff packets, they find their lives in a state of chaos and fear of the future. In the case of all three, their fears are for their families and their children, and for being able to maintain that small niche of American society that they have carved out for themselves through hard work in our community.

Jason Dyer is a 32-year-old corrections officer at Logan Correctional Center who has received his layoff papers. Jason and his wife, Charity, have four small children, with another due in February. Charity works at Lincoln Correctional, and although she has yet to receive a layoff packet, like everything in the family's life right now, her future and a potential layoff are up in the air. Jason said that he and Charity based the size of their family on their jobs, and now he is faced with losing his.

The packets from the state say that the layoffs will begin Sept. 30 with a three-year callback provision. But as Jason explains, the callback provision only adds confusion to the situation. He worries if the layoffs come through, whether he should wait to see if he will be called back soon, or if he and his family should uproot and move somewhere else.

But what if after that upheaval, he finds he can come back to work at Logan Correctional? Then what?

"I have three (kids) in school, ages 11, 9 and 4. I have a house and two cars. What happens if I lose my job?" Dyer asked.

Jason has made calls to his mortgage holder and car loan lenders, but the Mason City resident knows that without a job, lenders working with him won't be enough in the long term to keep his home. "I don't know what to do," he said. "Everything keeps changing. I am told something and then it changes again."

All Dyer knows right now is that he is set to be laid off Sept. 30, and he fears the future without his job to support his family.

Brent Kenney, a corrections officer at Logan for 10 years, also has a growing family. He and his wife, Amie, have three children, ages 11, 7 and 3 months. He is the family's sole support at this time.

With 10 years on the job, Kenney might be able to replace an officer at another facility due to seniority, but the drive wouldn't be practical. Kenney is a realist, and he sees that if he loses his job, there is little chance for a similar-paying job locally. "If I lose my job, I can go on unemployment," he said. "But who will buy my house if I have to sell it? This is taking a toll on my health. Will I lose my home? Will I have to go bankrupt? Will I have to uproot my family?" All are questions that worry him right now.

Dyer confirmed he had the same fears. "Will I lose my house? Will my kids have to start all over again in a different school? I don't know what to do," he said.

Dyer added that the current 88 jobs in jeopardy also affect the community. "If they keep laying people off, how will small businesses survive in this community?" he asked. "I live here, we live here, and people can't stay where there aren't any jobs."

Both talked about the lack of local opportunities to change careers and still be a part of the Logan County community. Dyer previously worked in airport security, Kenney in the nursing care field. Both said they decided on switching to their current jobs for security and benefits -- security and benefits that soon might be gone.

Kenney says he is mulling going back to school if he must and taking advantage of a government program for displaced workers. Dyer isn't sure. He says he is willing to work, but "why would someone hire me for a construction job when there are plenty of people out there looking for those jobs with more experience?"

Both said their concerns also filter over to their friends at the correctional centers and their families. "There are people at Logan who came to work right out of high school. They don't know anything else," Dyer said. "The state just looks at numbers. They are pencil-pushers and they don't see the reality, that they are throwing 88 families to the wind. When I got the layoff packet … that's reality."

Stephanie Gettleman is a six-year veteran at Logan. She brought her children to the interview and expressed her feelings on receiving a layoff notice.

A single mom of two youngsters, ages 4 and 3, she lives in Springfield and explained how much she relies on family help being nearby. With six years on the job she might qualify for a transfer. However, if even possible, she says the idea of being able to replace a correctional officer at another facility wouldn't make sense to her. "What if something happened to one of my kids, and I was hours away?" she asked.

The other option would be to move, but that would remove the family support she has where she currently lives.

A pragmatic person, Stephanie said, "I took this job so that I could take care of my kids. The job is hard enough without this. It isn't a fun job. This job is to provide for my kids. My biggest fear is not being able to provide for them. What will Christmas be like this year? I don't know."

Gettleman has two-plus years of college.

Like Dyer and Kenney, Gettleman said she took the job because of the believed stability of the work in these difficult times. "My dad, Kevin, had 29 years on the job with DOC. I graduated from Heartland and was continuing at ISU, and my dad said why not take the job and get decent pay and benefits while continuing my schooling, and so I did."

Although Gettleman is young enough to have possible options, they aren't readily obvious. "Can I find something else? I don't know what," she said. "To sit down and say I have an answer for you (as to what she will do), I don't know."

Gettleman asked if she could make a statement at the end of her interview. "The governor has closed the Boys and Girls Clubs and the YMCA in Springfield. So what is he giving kids as an out? If they have nothing else, what will keep them from turning to drug pushing, and then they will end up in prison," she said.

As it is going, that prison might have only half the staff it does today.

[By MIKE FAK]