‘Gentle Giant’ Helps Shape Young Lives

De Wayne Jett recalls the day 18 years ago when he watched LeRoy Chase Jr. break up a fight between two youths at the Boys Club in Pacoima.

“He did the physical separation,” Jett said. “Then he had the guys talk out their problems. He said there’s got to be a better solution. He was able to leave the room, and those guys got along just fine after that.”

Jett, who grew up in Pacoima, went on to become a college football star, professional wide receiver, and, today, an Encino businessman. The man Jett first called Mr. Chase and now calls his friend was a role model every step of the way.

“Coming from the environment I did, he showed me that there’s a lot of fun in the world outside of doing bad or illegal things, drugs or gangs or violence,” Jett, 30, said recently.

Influential Counselor

Chase, whom some call “a gentle giant,” has influenced scores of young people during his 19 years at what is now the Boys & Girls Club of San Fernando Valley. Today, the relentlessly positive executive director presides over a sparkling $2-million facility.

The 26,000-square-foot center, which opened this year at Glenoaks and Van Nuys boulevards in Pacoima, serves 850 youngsters. Many of them come from a tough part of the lower-income communities of Pacoima, San Fernando and the northeast San Fernando Valley. Some live in housing projects or ramshackle homes; most routinely face the temptations of drug abuse and gang membership.

“They may have to walk through a group of drug dealers, but when they get to the Boys Club, LeRoy shows them the other side of being a male,” community activist Rose Castaneda said.

Chase himself has two battle scars on his right arm from bottles hurled at him during the turbulent early years by youths he says were junkies. Amid a landscape of despair, for many the Boys Club & Girls Club are a beacon of hope.

“It’s a place to stay off the streets,” said Danny Vicente of San Fernando. “If I wasn’t here, I’d be out cruising or at home doing nothing.”

Vicente, 17, who was born in the Philippines, was recently honored as the club’s 1987 “Youth of the Year.” A varsity basketball and football player, he runs the club’s library program and is nearly as much a fixture as the pool tables and basketball hoops.

The new building and successes like De Wayne Jett and Danny Vicente are measures of Chase’s impact. But there are others, including the club’s prodigious growth.

It was founded in 1966 as the Pacoima Boys Club by the B’nai Brith Honor Lodge of Tarzana and Encino, which sought to do something positive for minority youths to defuse community tension after the Watts riots. The club’s first home was a large room on Van Nuys Boulevard that had housed a women’s club, a Moose Lodge and a Chamber of Commerce.

Chase was completing his senior year on a football scholarship at the University of Utah when he was recruited to become the club’s second executive director in 1968. The first director, Shapiro said, was fired when it was learned he was “a closet member of the Black Panthers” and was urging youths at the club to join the radical group.

Raised in South-Central Los Angeles

Chase, the oldest of two sons in a working-class family, had been born and raised in South-Central Los Angeles. A four-sport high school athlete, he had worked for the Salt Lake City Parks and Recreation Department while attending college. But this was a far cry from what awaited him in Pacoima.

The original building, constructed in the 1920s, was “on its last legs,” Chase said. It had dim lighting, shuttered windows, little security and no air conditioning. The facility would have practically fit into the new club’s gym.

The annual budget was $18,074. Chase’s staff was a single Vista volunteer. There were 44 members.

Chase said he chased alcohol-drinking kids from the club’s back door. Typewriters and adding machines disappeared during six burglaries in the first two years. Once, thieves broke in through the roof, stole a saw, power drill and other shop equipment, and sold it two blocks away for a few dollars for liquor.

But gradually, as the club gained credibility, neighbors began to keep an eye on the building. They would shine lights, shout or call the police when they saw shadowy would-be intruders. And membership started to climb.

Today, with 850 people from 7 to 17 enrolled, there are eight full-time and five part-time staffers, many of whom are former members. The annual budget is $450,000. The United Way contributes 20%, and U.S. Community Development funds 15%. The rest comes from fund-raising events, group and individual contributions and the $12 annual membership fee.

The new building features 43 skylights, a blue-tiled roof, an air-conditioned gymnasium with a maple basketball court, weight-lifting rooms, computers, a photography lab and library.

On a recent weekday, the club was a cacophony of young voices amid a whirl of frenetic activity. “It appears we do have a few kids in the building,” Chase joked as he made his way through his charges.

Activities Everywhere

In the game room, youths competed in pool and table soccer as an errant Frisbee floated overhead. Across the hall, a dozen basketballs banged off backboards and rims in the regulation high school-size gym. An indoor whiffle ball game was being organized in one corner.

Elsewhere, about 50 young women stood with arms outstretched as a counselor led them in aerobics. “1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8,” she exhorted. “Straight arms, together!”

In the cramped library, youngsters earnestly battled across Monopoly and checker boards. A group of girls, two black, one Latino and one Anglo, sat on the floor playing “go fish.”

All of the staff and some of the kids wore blue Boys Clubs and Girls Clubs T-shirts. The club’s dress code calls for shirts to be worn at all times and club T-shirts on all outings.

If Chase is one pillar of the club’s success, such ambitious fund-raising by well-connected board members is the other.

The board is a combination of San Fernando Valley corporate brass and local activists. It has grown to 37 members and Chase says the total will reach 50. Besides broadening the club’s base of community support, a larger board has another obvious advantage: each member pledges to raise or contribute $5,000 a year.

Chase is no straggler when it comes to seeking dollars, whether from government, foundations, businesses or individuals.

“He’ll talk to anybody about money anywhere--on the tennis court, basketball court or golf course,” board member Nancy Avery said.

Finding Money

Chase estimates he spends 60% to 75% of his time keeping board members informed and working with them to find money.

Ever the diplomat, he trumpets their contributions and repeatedly deflects credit to them. Each room in the club has a small gold plaque above the entrance dedicating it to a major donor. The club is to be named after Louis W. Foster, chairman of 20th Century Insurance Co., who was responsible for obtaining gifts of more than $500,000, Chase said.

Chase uses his ties with the business community in a variety of ways. The club’s mini-bike program is one of the most effective. Twenty XL-100 motorcycles, obtained from Honda at minimal cost, serve as bait.

Youths learn to maintain and ride the bikes safely. But to participate, they must show improvement in their grades each semester.

“It’s an excellent way to attract the tough ones,” Chase said. “They see this as a different image.”

The club also fosters community activism. “Teens Take Action” has sponsored an anti-drug campaign, worked on Pacoima cleanup efforts and participated in Hands Across the Valley to raise money for the hungry.

“We’re trying to show a positive image for teen-agers in the community,” Chase said. “The leadership is coming from the youngsters.”

Chase and his wife, Shirin, a real estate broker, live in a three-bedroom home in Sylmar with their youngest daughter, who is in grade school. Their two older daughters are in college.

‘Happiness on His Face’

Sometimes it seems, however, that Chase’s extended family casts a wider net. At a recent wedding in Palmdale, a guest approached Chase and asked, “Aren’t you LeRoy?”

“I could see the happiness on his face,” Chase said. The man, a former club member, turned to his wife and said, “This is the only organization in the community that did anything for me.”

In light of such moments, Chase said, “You have a tendency to forget about all the wounds from the bottles and all the negative experiences.”

Chase, whose salary is in the “mid-30s,” acknowledges he has been offered more lucrative positions with private and fund-raising organizations. But he insists there is more to do at the Boys Club and Girls Club, such as opening satellite facilities in Canoga Park, Van Nuys and elsewhere in the Valley.

“I enjoy what I’m doing here,” he said. “I see a lot of exciting, challenging moments ahead. We have a super team. It’s like going into the playoffs with a Lakers-caliber team.”

Community activist Castaneda praises Chase for his attention to basics: “He makes kids wash their face and comb their hair,” she says. “Right on, LeRoy!”