Wheaton business gives ex-cons a chance

John Quinn shot off an angry email to his father, blaming his upbringing for the troubled and floundering man he had become in his mid-40s.

The note would change his life.

His father responded harshly, telling Quinn never to contact him again. But he also suggested his son look into a small Wheaton company that was hiring “post-prison” people to run its coffee bean-roasting operation.

Quinn took the advice and, two years later, is one of the leaders of the Second Chance Coffee Co., a business born out of a desire to help ex-prisoners land on their feet.

Quinn, 47, said the company did that and gave him a renewed sense of self-worth. But the result of his father's words convinced him a divine influence had reached into his life.

“It just brings me to my knees,” he said. “To have that come out of it, it's one of those things where, you can believe in God or you cannot believe in God. But what do you say to something like that?”

Second Chance can be found at area farmers and French markets, as employees promote their “I Have A Bean” product throughout the region. The feedback from customers has been good so far. For the workers, the company gives their troubled lives a jolt as they try to reacclimate to life outside prison.

It would be easy to miss the small, nondescript building on Childs Street that houses Second Chance. But inside, the framework of what owners hope some day becomes a huge business is apparent.

Large burlap sacks filled with raw coffee beans from across the world line a wall in a makeshift warehouse. The piercing sound of a rudimentary coffee bean roasting machine, complete with a leaf blower to cool the beans, fills the air. And finished products sit on shelves, awaiting delivery or transport to the next public appearance that the business thrives on.

After incorporating in 2007, the owners spent two years before finding and fixing up the small space, just west of Carlton Avenue. Since January 2010, the business has increased from roasting 300 pounds of beans per month to nearly 2,000.

But as much as co-founders Pete Leonard and Dave Scavotto want to make money and eventually expand the business, they also provide former offenders a professional reference and a stable support system to integrate back into society.

“Just because someone has been to prison doesn't make them any materially different from me when it comes to life goals, family and wanting to live a life of meaning,” Leonard said. “Any time we can, we give an opportunity for expression in all of those areas.”

Leonard puts his words into action. One of the plant's main roasters is a convicted gangbanger who had been in and out of prison for crimes including armed robbery,

Quinn, meanwhile, was a white collar criminal, convicted of forgery after trying to pass a bad $20,000 check. At Second Chance, he sits in on big meetings, including employment screenings, and has input into many of the company's major decisions.

The forgery charge ended a long drop for Quinn, a former corporate headhunter who earned a six-figure income. He had squandered his money and was unemployed and homeless briefly before he went to jail.

“This place has, in a lot of ways, saved my life,” he said. “I was able for the first time in years to be a part of something and to be a productive member of society.”

And it usually does not take long for employees to earn Leonard's trust, and with it, a key to the building.

When Quinn first arrived at the company in November 2009, he was about 10 months past a nine-month sentence in the DuPage County jail.

“I was probably unemployable in my other line of work,” he said, adding that Second Chance “saw something in me, I saw something in them.”

For the first six months he worked, he did not receive any pay. Even today, he says he does not make much. But he sticks with it, he says, because he believes in the company and its future.

According to the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics, about 70 percent of those who leave prison end up rearrested for similar offenses. Often, Leonard says, it is a result of not having a stable support system waiting on the outside.

Leonard got a taste of that close to home. A relative was incarcerated nine months for a felony and couldn't find work after his release. It wasn't long before the man, whom Leonard calls a genius, blew through a bunch of money he had saved and began falling back slowly into behavior that had cost him his work.

“He had no support group, no accountability group,” Leonard said. “There was no mentor around him when he got out of prison so he fell right back into the same bad habits.”

That, and a church mission trip to Brazil, provided the inspiration for Second Chance. During that trip, he learned a thing or two about coffee and started roasting raw coffee beans at his home.

As word-of-mouth spread, the coffee started getting a reputation, primarily among his friends. That's when Leonard launched the company. And as word of the Second Chance mission reaches transition homes in the area and at parole offices, prospective employees walk in the door constantly.

Leonard wants to help those ex-offenders land on their feet by providing professional references and boosts to their resume.

“Part of what we are doing is being an example to other companies that, yes, you can produce a stellar product and do it with post-prison people,” he said. “Just because somebody has been to prison doesn't mean they can't be of value to your company.”

Now that Quinn has a steady job, his relationship with his parents has improved. Quinn acknowledges, however, that it's a “pay as you go” relationship, with him continually having to prove himself.

Despite this, he says things are looking up, both for him and for the business.

“I've never done anything this exciting in my life,” he said, noting the growth of the company's business. “We can't keep up. We have a rocket ship tied to our back.”