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Fellow Travelers Jeff Grant & Craig Stanland will be guests on Tha Yard Weekly Hangout, Thurs., June 17, 2021, 8 pm ET, 5 pm PT
Reinvention doesn’t happen overnight. But if you want to learn where to start, meet Craig Stanland and Jeff Grant, powerhouses of new beginnings:
📖 Craig Stanland served 2 years in prison, and upon release, was 100% dedicated to transforming himself (and helping others do the same) – now a coach and bestselling author, he specializes in working with people whose lives have fallen apart, helping them reinvent themselves.
⚖️ After serving 14 months in prison, Rev. Jeff Grant became the co-founder of Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc., as well as a private general counsel serving families, the white collar justice community, pro bono clients and more. He’s helped hundreds of men and women find new beginnings post-incarceration.
Raw, real and uncut – join us on Tha Yard this week for another episode of epic conversations, untold stories and good times.
Join us: Thursday, 6/17
5pm PST/8pm EST
Link to register: www.bit.ly/ThaYard
Award: Fellow Traveler Chandra Bozelko is 2020 Sigma Delta Chi Award Winner – Society of Professional Journalists
Congratulations to Journalist and Fellow Traveler Chandra Bozelko on winning this prestigious award. Chandra is a member of our online White Collar Support Group that meets on Zoom on Monday evenings.
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“In online column writing, the winner is Chandra Bozelko of Gannett/ MoreContentNow for The Outlaw: Insider Takes on Criminal Justice, which, according to the judges: contained masterful writing on compelling, eye-opening subjects. She knows how to grab the reader, and how tell the stories as only she can do…”
Announcement at 34:34:
Amazon Smile: Progressive Prison Ministries is now a Participating Nonprofit in the Amazon Smile Program. Thank you for Registering!
Amazon Smile: Progressive Prison Ministries is now a participating nonprofit in the Amazon Smile program so that, at no cost to you, we will receive a donation of 1/2% of your purchases. Thank you for using this link to register:
https://smile.amazon.com/ch/46-5472724
Radio/Podcast: Business Talk with Jim Campbell: Jeff Grant Talks with Jim About the Reinstatement of His Law License, Practicing as Private General Counsel/White Collar Crisis Management, 1490 AM WGCH Greenwich, CT & 300 Stations Nationwide, Mon., May 31, 2021, 6 pm ET
“Business Talk with Jim Campbell” – syndicated nationally on the BizTalkRadio.com Network with over 300 affiliate stations, and “Forensic Talk with Jim Campbell” Monday April 27th 6 – 7 pm on 1490 AM WGCH Greenwich, WGCH.com. 1490 AM WGCH Greenwich, CT. Show features leaders in the worlds of business, politics and sports. For weekly email blast on show guests, send email to: jamesocampbell@CampbellBizTalk.com.
Listen on YouTube:
Jeff is an attorney and counselor-at-law providing private general counsel, legal crisis management, and dispute strategy and management services to individuals and families, real estate organizations, family-owned and closely-held businesses, the white collar justice community, and special situation and pro bono clients
Now again in private practice, for over 20 years Jeff served as managing attorney of a 20+ employee law firm headquartered in New York City, and then Westchester County, NY. Among other practice areas, the firm engaged in representation of family-owned/closely held businesses and their owners, business and real estate transactions, trusts and estates, and litigation. Jeff also served as outside General Counsel to large family-owned real estate equities, management and brokerage organizations, in which role he retained, coordinated and oversaw the work of many specialty law firms, including white collar defense firms.
After an addiction to prescription opioids and serving almost fourteen months in a Federal prison (2006 – 07) for a white-collar crime he committed in 2001, Jeff started his own reentry – earning a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, majoring in Social Ethics. After graduating from divinity school, Jeff was called to serve at an inner city church in Bridgeport, CT as Associate Minister and Director of Prison Ministries. He then co-founded Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. (Greenwich, CT), the world’s first ministry serving the white collar justice community.
On May 5, 2021, Jeff’s law license was reinstated by the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court of the State of New York.
Jeff Grant full bio: https://prisonist.org/about-jeff-grant/
Progressive Prison Ministries website: https://prisonist.org
Linked In: https://linkedin.com/revjeffgrant
Articles:
Reuters: Jeff Grant ‘Let Go of the Outcome’: How this Felon Beat Addiction and Won Back his Law License, by Jenna Greene, May 2021: https://www.reuters.com/business/legal/i-let-go-outcome-how-this-felon-beat-addiction-won-back-his-law-license-2021-05-21/
Entrepreneur’s #4 Most Viewed Article of 2020: I Went to Prison for S.B.A. Loan Fraud: 7 Things to Know When Taking COVID-19 Relief Money: by Jeff Grant, April 2020: https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/350337
The Philadelphia Inquirer: Steal Money from the Feds? First, Meet Jeff Grant, an Ex-Con who Committed Loan Fraud, by Erin Arvedlund, Oct. 2020: https://www.inquirer.com/business/sba-loan-fraud-jeff-grant-white-collar-week-crime-bill-baroni-20201018.html
Greenwich Magazine: The Redemption of Jeff Grant, by Tim Dumas, March 2018: https://greenwichmag.com/features/the-redemption-of-jeff-grant
Forbes: As Law Enforcement Pursues SBA/PPP Loan Fraud, A Story Of Redemption, by Kelly Phillips Erb, July 2020: https://www.forbes.com/sites/kellyphillipserb/2020/07/14/as-law-enforcement-pursues-sba-loan-fraud-jeff-grant-talks-redemption/#7a4f70cc4483
Podcasts/Radio:
The Confessional with Nadia Bolz-Weber, May 2021: https://nadiabolzweber.com/308-jeff-grant/
Greater Good Radio with Bob Kosch, WOR 710 AM NYC, May 2021: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/1248-greater-good-radio-with-b-81131426
Video:
The Rich Roll Podcast: The Awakening of Jeff Grant: From Addiction & Incarceration To Prison Ministry, May 2019: https://www.richroll.com/podcast/jeff-grant-440/
Founders Focus Podcast with Scott Case, 2021, Interview, https://youtu.be/y5icqQcMtPc?list=PLbNxOsmSNw3x3jR9P9fJfHrYkuQGXzJl9
Clara CFO YouTube Channel, 2021, Interview, https://youtu.be/5UpkQD09r1o
Online White Collar Support Group:
White Collar Support Group Website Page: We held our 250th online support group meeting in March 2021. We have had over 310 participants, and average about 25 attendees at each meeting: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-support-group/
Episodes of White Collar Week Podcast (video & audio):
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 01: An Evening with Our White Collar Support Group. 16 of our support group members tell their personal stories: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-podcast-episode-01-16-free-from-prison-an-evening-with-our-white-collar-support-group/
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 06: Madoff Talks, with guest Jim Campbell, author of the book coming out April 2021, “Madoff Talks, Uncovering the Untold Story Behind the Most Notorious Ponzi Scheme in History.”: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-podcast-ep-06-madoff-talks-with-guest-jim-campbell/
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 21, All Things SBA, PPP & EIDL, Guest: Hannah Smolinski, CPA: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-all-things-sba-ppp-eidl-with-guest-hannah-smolinski-cpa-virtual-cfo-podcast-ep-21/
Just Released, by Fellow Traveler Jeff Grant: The Story of My Release from Prison 14 Years Ago Today, June 5, 2007. An Excerpt from My Book, “Down & Out in Greenwich CT: The Art of Surviving Prison”.
Chapter Twelve
Just Released
Watkinson House was a huge brick Federal Style house that used to be the mansion of the Lieutenant Governor of the State of Connecticut. Once a fashionable address, it was located directly across the street from the headquarters the Hartford Insurance Company on the edge of downtown. It was a mile – that is a fifteen-minute walk down the hill – to the center of the city and the state capital. To the left on the street were insurance companies and beautiful parks where you could imagine the city just ran out of time and money to save itself. To the right were Sigorney Street, the West Side ghetto, and the Asylum. Prostitutes and drug addicts littered the block and the Projects, and they were impossible to miss in order to leave the house or to walk anywhere – or to catch a bus – or to do anything. This was prison after prison.
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As I approached Watkinson House on my first day out of prison, there was a large group of guys hanging out in the parking lot – mostly Blacks and Latinos – with a few whites guys mixed in. It was summer so they were all wearing baggy shorts, long t-shirts, flat brimmed baseball caps and Nike Air Force Ones. I recognized the uniforms. They were probably on a cigarette break, soon to be hustled back inside to watch a few more hours of mind-numbing television. The front porch smelled like old wood in need of a paint job, but the door had a very modern surveillance system. I pushed the buzzer and looked up into the camera. A businesslike yet gentle woman’s voice asked me if she could help. I quickly rifled through my now institutionalized brain for the shortest and most succinct answer possible. “New resident,” I replied. The door buzzed open and I stepped inside. Another large group of men – again mostly Blacks and Latinos – sat in a day-room to my right watching television. The office was to my left where two middle aged women behind a counter. I introduced myself and presented them with my papers and my bag of clothes.
The trip to Watkinson House from Allenwood earlier that day seemed surreal. Almost fourteen months in prison – little contact with the outside world other than letters, phone calls and visits in the visiting room – had ill prepared me for how fast the outside world really moved compared to inside prison. My friends Tom and Peter had picked me up from Allenwood in Tom’s girlfriend Alexis’ Volvo station wagon. Tom, Peter and I had been like three horsemen in our first couple of years of Alcoholics Anonymous. We couldn’t have been more different – Tom was a guy from a blue collar town in New Jersey who had settled into this kind of day-job life as cost accountant where he could show up and get a paycheck and then go out every night, smoke pot and gig as a session drummer. His mom had been dying for years – one day he went to her house to find her begging to be let out of her misery. Tom’s complicity plagued him and sent him spiraling down to a place where he couldn’t eat, sleep or do anything other than drink and smoke pot – he was about 120 pounds when I first met him sitting next to me in the front row of an AA meeting in Greenwich, Connecticut. Tom lied to me – and to all of us – for those first couple of years as he continued to smoke pot during the day while attending AA meetings and hanging out with us in the diner till midnight afterwards. He came clean one night when he was in the shower of my apartment retching up bile. He got honest, and sober, from that point on and then met his girlfriend Alexis who was from a blue-blood local family – a case of opposites attracting I guess.
Peter, on the other hand, was a gentleman, a man of the world – he grew up in Italy, went to Harvard and then spent most of his life in working, drinking, and passing out in places like Hong Kong and Shanghai. Peter’s was a classic case of a guy whose abusive father had such high expectations of him that it kept him anxious and running from life for most of his life. Peter’s plan was to finally put down some roots in Connecticut – at the time I met him he had a wife and a wonderful daughter. His plan was only thwarted by only two miscalculations. First, he chose to marry a woman who treated him very much like his father did – a decision that expedited his alcoholic bottom and then sent him into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. Second, Peter did not possess a valid U.S. passport. One day while traveling back into the country with an expired work visa, Peter was arrested, locked up by the United States Customs and Border Protection Service and thrown into it’s detention center in Elizabeth, New Jersey. Rampant alcoholism, an abusive father, a loveless marriage and deportation proceedings served as a perfect combination for Peter to complete our merry band of three.
In Alexis’ car with Tom behind the wheel, all the sights, road signs, the rate of speech, ambient radio noise – just about everything – were coming at me way too quickly. I wanted to stay in the back seat and just be quiet for a while. And to acclimate, hide – do anything other than be with people who couldn’t possibly understand what I had just been through. But Tom and Peter would have none of that. They were excited. They had driven 200 miles to come get me. They had stayed overnight in a fleabag motel and eaten cheap fast food. To them this was Tom & Peter’s Excellent Adventure – and they wanted the pay-off. They wanted to know everything, and they wanted it immediately. I asked them to please settle down and to find the highway. And to hand me a cell phone. I wanted to check my voice mail messages – it had been almost fourteen months. I wanted to call my kids.
Five hours seemed like a lot of time to get from White Deer, Pennsylvania to Hartford, Connecticut, more than enough time to stop and have a nice lunch along the way. It had been awhile since I’d had a nice lunch, and I figured that would be the place to catch up with Tom and Peter, share stories about the last year, and answer all of their prison questions. I was soon to learn that I was now considered the “prison guy”, with all the good and the bad that came along with it. Peter had the route all mapped out on MapQuest just in case the directions given to us by the prison turned out to be wrong. He was satisfied that five hours should be enough for lunch. As it turned out, I was not so much in the mood for a nice lunch as I was to not take any chances checking into the halfway house on time. The risk didn’t seem to be worth it.
A few months later I found out that my cellie Ricky from Boston had been picked up by his girlfriend Jackie on his release day. Instead of driving directly to his halfway house, Ricky and Jackie pulled into a rest stop on Route 80. I guess everything was going reasonably well while they were having sex on the hood of her father’s car until they discovered that they had locked the keys inside the car. This was not good. After the AAA emergency roadside service, Ricky made it to the halfway house by the skin of his teeth. Our buddy Bobby from the other side of the unit, a nightclub owner from the Hamptons, was not so fortunate. He actually had a reunion with his entire extended family at Peter Luger’s Steak House in Brooklyn on the way to his halfway house. When he arrived at his halfway house fifteen minutes late, they slapped handcuffs on him and sent him back to prison for the remainder of his sentence. I guess he should have order his steak rare.
As we headed onto Route 80 East back to New York and then past to Hartford, I dialed up my voice mail. Since all my friends knew that this was my release date, I figured that I would have tons of congratulatory messages. There was not a single message on my voice mail. In a strange way it brought me back to the reality of the moment and I was more able to talk with Tom and Peter. I handed the cell phone back to Peter and we shared stories for the next four hours. We got to Hartford in just enough time to go out for some pizza around two blocks from the halfway house. There we were, three white guys from Greenwich sitting in a pizzeria in the West Side ghetto of Hartford near the corner of Farmington Avenue and Sigorney Street. I was to learn that in Hartford, Sigorney is pronounced, “Sig-A-Knee,” and its proper use, like all prison lingo, was critical to my survival. I was back in my element and was breathing easy – a little over year in prison had changed my outlook on things. With about five minutes to spare we pulled up to Watkinson House, I bid Peter and Tom good-bye, and I stepped inside. I was home.
The process started all over again. There were forms to fill out and drug tests to take. I had an initial meeting with a counselor. They searched my bag and my body. Aerosol containers, sharps, electric shavers and alcohol-based products were either discarded, or tagged and stored. Once processing was completed, I was escorted up to a room up on the third floor where I would have three roommates; none were in at the time. I was assigned an upper bunk and given a supply of sheets, blankets, towels and basic toiletries – I was an old pro at this already. On each beat up dresser was a television with a clear plastic outer casing. Each television had a picture but no sound. Unlike in Federal prisons, in the Connecticut State prison system inmates could purchase these televisions for about eighty dollars. They were clear so that inmates couldn’t hide contraband or weapons inside of them. They had no speakers, so they could only be used with headsets. When their bids were up, the inmates left prison with the televisions and brought them to the halfway house. When they left, they abandoned them there – after all, there was not much market in the real world for a clear television without a speaker. So there were clear televisions on practically every flat surface of the halfway house.
I started to make my bed and myself at home when my first roommate walked in – a bald Latino named Hector. He looked pretty tough; his arms were sleeves of gang tats. He looked me up and down, and then asked if I was a cop. I said no, and then I asked him if he was a cop. He smiled. I think he liked my response. I could also tell that he was stoned. In fact, when my other roommates showed up it was pretty clear that they were all stoned. Hector pulled out a bottle of some cheap liquor and they all got drunk right there in the room. I suppose that they had a right to be suspicious when I didn’t drink with them, even after I told them that I would be five years sober in a few weeks. Nonetheless, Hector – stoned out, drunk and barely able to speak – had an idea; he had a few tests to put me through to prove I wasn’t a cop.
Hector asked me if he could continue to store his cell phone and charger in a hole in my mattress. He had been storing it there while my bunk was unoccupied. Both he and I knew that cell phone possession charges were among the most egregious offenses in prison. It wasn’t a big leap to guess that they weren’t allowed in the halfway house either and that we could get sent back to prison if we were caught. I told him to forget about it – that I was white, not stupid. He seemed delighted with this response. For his next test, Hector took off his shirt exposing his hairy tattooed body – he explained that he liked to shave down his body hair so that his chest and back were smooth. He proposed that I shave the hair off his back. I figured that this was my Mendoza Line – I was in a halfway house my first night out of prison about to shave the back hair off of a Latino gang member. When I was finished, we wrapped our arms around each other and laughed. He pulled a big plastic box out from under his bunk and showed me this huge cache of sundries. He was running a bodega for the benefit of the guys who couldn’t get passes out of the house. Of course, he marked them up two to three times his cost.
“Go ahead, Poppi.” A term of endearment. “Take one. No charge”.
I went for the Old Spice push-up antiperspirant stick. Things went pretty smoothly with Hector from that point on.
The halfway house had a culture unto itself, but with none of the checks and balances of prison. Quickly dissipated was any prison culture that honored respect. For example, in prison – if I was television room and put my book down on my chair – nobody would have touched it for hours. At Watkinson – my book was pushed onto the floor and I found a guy sitting in my seat. In prison – phone calls were calls were automatically cut off after fifteen minutes. In the halfway house – guys hogged the phones for hours even though there were lines of other guys waiting. In prison – meals were served in a line and doled out somewhat systematically. In the halfway house – it was a cattle call of first come, first served. I wound up eating a lot of cereal and peanut butter those five weeks. Watkinson House did however have AA meetings most nights, and took us to even more meetings in the van. As Federal client I was eligible for a pass in three days (it took Connecticut clients twenty days to get a pass). As soon as I was issued a pass, I could go outside on my own.
I had not been on a computer in fourteen months. Since I had no luck with my voice mail on the ride from prison, I was hoping that I’d at least have some email. I met with my counselor to find out how and where to do that. There were no computers available to clients at the halfway house – the only place that she could think of was at the State of Connecticut Employment Agency, called CT Works, which was a pretty far bus ride from downtown. Clients who achieved Level Four status were allowed to go to the public library downtown and use the computers there – but I was short-termer and only had a Level One status. I received instructions for a pass, and then filled out a request. I explained exactly where I wanted to go, included the address and phone number I got from the Yellow Pages in the office, and why I wanted to go there. My pass was approved and then I had to wait three days for a pass. On my assigned day after breakfast, I was handed a three-hour pass – barely enough time to accomplish my mission – and directions to CT Works on the Hartford/Windsor border. I walked out the door of the halfway house a free man.
It was my first taste of freedom and here I was alone in the Westside Hartford ghetto. I figured I’d better hightail it downtown. The one-mile walk to downtown felt great. I couldn’t help but contrast it to the monotony of circling the track at Allenwood. I caught my first sight of the Connecticut State Capital Building, a pretty cool rib joint, and the arena where the Hartford Whaler’s used to play. But mostly there were people, real people, and they were going to work, wearing work clothes, and sitting on benches eating breakfast. I got to the center of the city, and found the bus stop on Main Street in front of the State House where I would catch the No. 40 bus to CT Works. I asked a few people on line to make sure I was waiting for the right bus – with only a three-hour pass I didn’t have any room for error. I’m certain that they were being very kind given that I was dressed like a guy only a few days out of prison. The ride up North Main Street to the North end of the city was though mostly more ghettos. It took about a half hour to get up to CT Works – it was in a large factory building that had been restored and repurposed into a business incubator housing all sorts of services for poor people. I had to register, become a CT Works client, and then wait in line for a computer. By the time I finally got on a computer, two hours had passed since I left Watkinson House, and I was worried about getting back in time. I logged on to my Yahoo account – I had lots of spam but no messages.
Now I had to hustle. The bus stop for the No. 40 bus back downtown was across the street. Standing there waiting for the bus was a pretty drunk old timer and a young Latino woman with a crying baby. Every minute seemed like an hour, as I waited for that bus to come from Windsor back into Hartford. Finally, the bus pulled up and I let the lady, baby and drunk get back on the bus first. I asked the driver if the bus went downtown, and he pointed to the sign up above the front window. Time seemed to slow down as I thought about the repercussions of arriving at the halfway house late. When the bus got downtown, I still had twenty minutes to walk up the hill back to Watkinson House. But the bus had let me off on Main Street in front of Burger King. The Oreo Shake poster in the window looked so good it practically had my name on it. I knew I was not supposed to stop anywhere unless I had a pass for it – that definitely included Burger King. But it was as if my body had a mind of its own. I couldn’t help myself. I found myself on the line at Burger King, ordering the biggest Oreo Shake they had. Soon, I was walking up the hill and slurping down my shake. At the corner before I got back to Watkinson House, I licked the last drops off the straw and threw away the remnants in a dumpster behind one of the housing projects.
I walked in to the house on time and the women behind the desk were practically falling out of their chairs laughing. They couldn’t control themselves. I asked if everything was okay? One of the women said to me that it was a good thing I was leaving in five weeks – that I would never make it there if I couldn’t figure out not to not to drink a Burger King shake on the streets without a pass. She said that at least five people saw me. The blood drained from my face. I was busted. Was I going to go back to prison over a milk shake? She told me to relax, that the Feds were way too busy to bust guys over something like this. But, she warned me: you never know? They sometimes would take away the people they don’t like for the smallest things. The people they like they leave alone – the people they don’t like they take back to prison.
She turned out to be right. In my five weeks there, there were shakedowns where they would overlook stuff from some guys, but handcuff and take away others.
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About the Author:
Jeffrey D. Grant, Esq.
GrantLaw, PLLC, 43 West 43rd Street, Suite 108, New York, NY 10036-7424
(212) 859-3512, jgrant@grantlaw.com, GrantLaw.com
After an addiction to prescription opioids and serving almost fourteen months in a Federal prison (2006 – 07) for a white-collar crime he committed in 2001 when he was a lawyer, Jeff started his own reentry – earning a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, majoring in Social Ethics. After graduating from divinity school, Jeff was called to serve at an inner city church in Bridgeport, CT as Associate Minister and Director of Prison Ministries. He then co-founded Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. (Greenwich, CT), the world’s first ministry serving the white collar justice community.
On May 5, 2021, Jeff’s law license was reinstated by the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court of the State of New York.
Now again in private practice, Jeff is an attorney and counselor-at-law providing private general counsel, legal crisis management, and dispute strategy and management services to individuals and families, real estate organizations, family-owned and closely-held businesses, the white collar justice community, and special situation and pro bono clients.
For over 20 years Jeff served as managing attorney of a 20+ employee law firm headquartered in New York City, and then Westchester County, NY. Among other practice areas, the firm engaged in representation of family-owned/closely held businesses and their owners, business and real estate transactions, trusts and estates, and litigation. Jeff also served as outside General Counsel to large family-owned real estate equities, management and brokerage organizations, in which role he retained, coordinated and oversaw the work of many specialty law firms, including white collar defense firms.
Jeff Grant’s full bio: https://prisonist.org/about-jeff-grant/
Progressive Prison Ministries website: https://prisonist.org
Linked In: https://linkedin.com/revjeffgrant
White Collar Support Group Blog: I Want to Feel Normal Again, by Fellow Traveler Michael Neubig
Michael Neubig is a member of our online White Collar Support Group that meets on Zoom on Monday evenings. I read this important post on his LinkedIn page, and thought he truly captured the spirit of of our group and movement. I reached out to him and in our conversation he said that when he first attended our support group meeting, he “finally felt normal again”. I understand. Thank you Mike for your poignant words and permission to republish your piece. – Jeff
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I am a part of the population of Justice Impacted White Collar individuals. For the last five years I have attempted to overcome poor decisions that broke the trust of and hurt many people close to me. These decisions led to me being fired from my own start up as CEO and an eventual felony conviction. Events like this take one to rock bottom, require self-reflection and personal change that involves a significant amount of work. The goal of personal change is not only to make recompense to those affected by our actions, but also to become a productive member of society. I desire to engage in meaningful work where I can apply positive skills and experience with what is learned from personal growth. Even if that means starting at the bottom of the organization.
Unfortunately, my experience has demonstrated employment as a White-Collar Justice Impacted individual is very difficult to achieve. I have engaged in hundreds of interviews, had offers rescinded, been fired after starting the position and experienced a lot of negative response and silence when revealing my past.
I have found my employment experience to be common for many of the others I have met who attend Jeff Grant’s White Collar Support Group on Monday evenings. Even though we are tremendously remorseful, have been punished for our actions, and have rebuilt our lives in every other way, there is virtually nowhere for us to go professionally.
I would summarize the feedback I/we receive with a general response of, “our other employees don’t trust people like you”, “you were the most deserving candidate, but not after finding this out”, “I am sure someone else will be willing to provide you a 2nd chance, but not us”. The responses are almost always followed by a canned email denial without a specific reason.
There is meaningful work occurring in the U.S. focused on 2nd chance employment. Many are start-ups engaged in connecting those with convictions to employers willing to provide 2nd chance hiring. Honest Jobs, 70 Million Jobs and more. BUT, my experience is that there is a tremendous lack of focus and resources matching the White Collar Justice Impacted to professional jobs where our background, skills and passions can be best used.
Those that committed White Collar Crimes did so for many of the identical reasons as other criminal behavior. Including childhood trauma, physical and emotional neglect/abuse, low self-esteem, high levels of shame, poor communication skills, poor decisions under pressure and more. Therefore, these individuals deserve the same assistance for 2nd chance employment.
I am writing this post in hopes that those like Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, Uptrust, Nucleos, Inc, The Change Companies, Checkr, Inc., FUSE Corps who are working on reducing incarceration and furthering equality and 2nd chance hiring initiatives, can pull together and provide resources/assistance to the Justice Impacted White Collar Community. – Mike Neubig
Podcast/Radio: Jeff Grant on Greater Good Radio with Bob Kosch, WOR 710 AM, NYC, May 29, 2021
Big thanks to Bob Kosch for having me on his New York City radio show and podcast, Greater Good Radio with Bob Kosch. Thank you Bob for your empathy, compassion and friendship. – Jeff
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Greater Good Media, LLC, parent company for “Greater Good Radio with Bob Kosch” is advancing a unique, but controversial economic plan called “RESET” which could save U.S. citizens from the worst recession in over eight decades. The plan also advances a logical position for what we can do to combat hate in order to prevent violence and torment against other groups.
Link to the show on iHeartRadio:
Listen on Apple Podcasts:
Show Notes:
Jeffrey D. Grant, Esq.
Jeffrey D. Grant, Esq.
GrantLaw, PLLC
43 West 43rd Street
Suite 108
New York, NY 10036-7424
(212) 859-3512
Jeff is an attorney and counselor-at-law providing private general counsel, legal crisis management, and dispute strategy and management services to individuals and families, real estate organizations, family-owned and closely-held businesses, the white collar justice community, and special situation and pro bono clients.
Now again in private practice, for over 20 years Jeff served as managing attorney of a 20+ employee law firm headquartered in New York City, and then Westchester County, NY. Among other practice areas, the firm engaged in representation of family-owned/closely held businesses and their owners, business and real estate transactions, trusts and estates, and litigation. Jeff also served as outside General Counsel to large family-owned real estate equities, management and brokerage organizations, in which role he retained, coordinated and oversaw the work of many specialty law firms, including white collar defense firms.
After an addiction to prescription opioids and serving almost fourteen months in a Federal prison (2006 – 07) for a white-collar crime he committed in 2001, Jeff started his own reentry – earning a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, majoring in Social Ethics. After graduating from divinity school, Jeff was called to serve at an inner city church in Bridgeport, CT as Associate Minister and Director of Prison Ministries. He then co-founded Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. (Greenwich, CT), the world’s first ministry serving the white collar justice community.
On May 5, 2021, Jeff’s law license was reinstated by the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court of the State of New York.
Jeff Grant full bio: https://prisonist.org/about-jeff-grant/
Progressive Prison Ministries website: https://prisonist.org
Linked In: https://linkedin.com/revjeffgrant
Articles:
Reuters: Jeff Grant ‘Let Go of the Outcome’: How this Felon Beat Addiction and Won Back his Law License, by Jenna Greene, May 2021: https://www.reuters.com/business/legal/i-let-go-outcome-how-this-felon-beat-addiction-won-back-his-law-license-2021-05-21/
Entrepreneur’s #4 Most Viewed Article of 2020: I Went to Prison for S.B.A. Loan Fraud: 7 Things to Know When Taking COVID-19 Relief Money: by Jeff Grant, April 2020: https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/350337
The Philadelphia Inquirer: Steal Money from the Feds? First, Meet Jeff Grant, an Ex-Con who Committed Loan Fraud, by Erin Arvedlund, Oct. 2020: https://www.inquirer.com/business/sba-loan-fraud-jeff-grant-white-collar-week-crime-bill-baroni-20201018.html
Greenwich Magazine: The Redemption of Jeff Grant, by Tim Dumas, March 2018: https://greenwichmag.com/features/the-redemption-of-jeff-grant
Forbes: As Law Enforcement Pursues SBA/PPP Loan Fraud, A Story Of Redemption, by Kelly Phillips Erb, July 2020: https://www.forbes.com/sites/kellyphillipserb/2020/07/14/as-law-enforcement-pursues-sba-loan-fraud-jeff-grant-talks-redemption/#7a4f70cc4483
Video:
The Rich Roll Podcast: The Awakening of Jeff Grant: From Addiction & Incarceration To Prison Ministry, May 2019: https://www.richroll.com/podcast/jeff-grant-440/
Founders Focus Podcast with Scott Case, 2021, Interview, https://youtu.be/y5icqQcMtPc?list=PLbNxOsmSNw3x3jR9P9fJfHrYkuQGXzJl9
Clara CFO YouTube Channel, 2021, Interview, https://youtu.be/5UpkQD09r1o
Online White Collar Support Group:
White Collar Support Group Website Page: We held our 250th online support group meeting in March 2021. We have had over 310 participants, and average about 25 attendees at each meeting: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-support-group/
Sample Episodes of White Collar Week Podcast (video & audio):
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 01: An Evening with Our White Collar Support Group. 16 of our support group members tell their personal stories: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-podcast-episode-01-16-free-from-prison-an-evening-with-our-white-collar-support-group/
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 06: Madoff Talks, with guest Jim Campbell, author of the book coming out April 2021, “Madoff Talks, Uncovering the Untold Story Behind the Most Notorious Ponzi Scheme in History.”: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-podcast-ep-06-madoff-talks-with-guest-jim-campbell/
White Collar Week Podcast, Ep. 21, All Things SBA, PPP & EIDL, Guest: Hannah Smolinski, CPA: https://prisonist.org/white-collar-week-with-jeff-grant-all-things-sba-ppp-eidl-with-guest-hannah-smolinski-cpa-virtual-cfo-podcast-ep-21/
Reuters: Jeff Grant 'Let Go of the Outcome’: How this Felon Beat Addiction and Won Back his Law License
By Jenna Greene, Reprinted from Reuters.com, May 21, 2021
When lawyers through greed or hubris or desperation become white-collar criminals – sent to prison and disbarred – their stories often feel like car crashes. We gape at the wreckage of their lives and move on.
But what happens afterwards, once they’ve done their time? How do they pick up the pieces?
Jeffrey Grant found a path to redemption. Seventeen years after he pleaded guilty to fraudulently obtaining $247,000 through a 9/11 disaster relief loan from the U.S. Small Business Administration, the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court of the State of New York earlier this month reinstated his law license.
“I’m beyond excited, but I also take the responsibility very seriously,” he told me. “I’m really grateful for a second chance.”
His journey is extraordinary, from opioid-addicted real estate lawyer to federal prison inmate to seminary student to head of a criminal justice nonprofit. And now, at age 64, he has come full circle to practice law again.
But this time around, he intends to do it very differently.
A 1981 New York Law School grad, Grant, before everything fell apart, headed his own 20-employee firm, Jeffrey D. Grant & Associates, in Mamaroneck, New York, serving as outside general counsel to large real estate companies.
“I viewed life as a competition,” he said, describing himself as akin to “a paid assassin.”
“It was me against everyone else, or me and my client against everyone else.”
After a sports injury, he was prescribed the painkiller Demerol and over the course of a decade, he became addicted to prescription opioids.
When he couldn’t meet payroll for his firm, he borrowed money from client escrow accounts. With a New York state attorney grievance committee investigation pending, he surrendered his law license on July 28, 2002. That night, he attempted suicide by overdose, he told me.
He wound up in rehab, embracing recovery with three meetings a day. He’s been clean and sober ever since.
But his past caught up with him in 2004, when he learned there was a warrant for his arrest. “No one was more surprised than me,” Grant said. Once informed of the charges, though, it “all came rushing back.”
In the wake of the September 11, 2001 attacks, he had applied for federal financial aid and falsely claimed that his firm had an office in New York City. In reality, he merely had an arrangement to use a conference room on occasion in the city.
Did he somehow convince himself this qualified? I asked. “I was a lawyer who represented sophisticated businesspeople,” he said. “I knew better.”
“There’s no question drugs had a lot to do with it, but I can’t blame the drugs,” he continued. “I was desperate, clutching at anything I could.”
Grant served 14 months at a low security prison in White Deer, Pennsylvania – but it was a “real prison with bars,” he said, not one of the so-called Club Fed camps where white-collar offenders typically do their time.
As a “privileged kid from the suburbs,” he said, “I had to learn hard lessons there. But it was exactly what I needed to wipe the last smirk off my face.”
Released in 2007, he knew he wanted to use his experiences to help others. He’s Jewish, but a pastor he knew suggested he consider attending a seminary.
“I didn’t know what that meant,” Grant recalled. (His first reaction: Is that where you train to be a monk?) But he discovered that seminaries, at least the progressive ones, “are basically places where you learn about social justice and faith.”
In 2012, he earned a master of divinity degree from Union Theological Seminary in New York City. He’s been baptized, but he’s also still a Jew. “I’m a double-belonger,” he said.
Grant and his wife Lynn Springer went on to co-found Progressive Prison Ministries. Based in Greenwich, Connecticut, they say it’s the world’s first ministry focused on serving the white-collar justice community.
It includes a weekly white-collar online support group for people “who have a desire to take responsibility for our actions and the wreckage we caused, make amends, and move forward in new way of life centered on hope, care, compassion, tolerance and empathy.” More than 310 people around the country have participated, according to the group’s website.
From 2016 to 2019, Grant also served as the executive director of Family ReEntry, a criminal justice nonprofit with offices and programs in eight Connecticut cities.
Three years ago, he began the process of getting his law license back. The first step was taking the multi-state professional responsibility exam and completing CLE. He also submitted “about 12 inches of paperwork,” he said, including his personal story.
He wrote 14,000 words. “I wanted to tell them everything, the whole story, warts and all,” he said. “It didn’t make a difference to me if strategically it was the right thing to do.” He added, “I let go of the outcome.”
He had a hearing via videoconference last May. “I was scared,” Grant said, but he was surprised to find that the panel members questioning him were “kind.”
“They were thorough and probing, but they were not out to tank me. They were supportive,” he said. “It helped me remember the best parts of being a lawyer.”
On May 5, his license was officially reinstated, and he promptly launched GrantLaw PLLC. With an office on West 43rd Street in Manhattan, he’s offering his services as a private general counsel specializing in white-collar crisis management.
That might include helping a white-collar defendant interview defense lawyers and other specialized counsel, reviewing the lawyers’ work product and billing, and acting as a sounding board, all with the goal of achieving a better and more-cost-efficient outcome.
“Most white-collar defendants are very bright, who have a lot of professional experience and are highly educated,” Grant said. “They don’t realize they’re in trauma – and are making generally very bad decisions while in trauma.”
They need “someone who understands trauma,” he said, “and somebody to trust.”
Given his life experiences, it’s hard for me to imagine a lawyer more uniquely qualified.
Reuters: Jeff Grant ‘Let Go of the Outcome’: How this Felon Beat Addiction and Won Back his Law License
By Jenna Greene, Reprinted from Reuters.com, May 21, 2021
When lawyers through greed or hubris or desperation become white-collar criminals – sent to prison and disbarred – their stories often feel like car crashes. We gape at the wreckage of their lives and move on.
But what happens afterwards, once they’ve done their time? How do they pick up the pieces?
Jeffrey Grant found a path to redemption. Seventeen years after he pleaded guilty to fraudulently obtaining $247,000 through a 9/11 disaster relief loan from the U.S. Small Business Administration, the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court of the State of New York earlier this month reinstated his law license.
“I’m beyond excited, but I also take the responsibility very seriously,” he told me. “I’m really grateful for a second chance.”
His journey is extraordinary, from opioid-addicted real estate lawyer to federal prison inmate to seminary student to head of a criminal justice nonprofit. And now, at age 64, he has come full circle to practice law again.
But this time around, he intends to do it very differently.
A 1981 New York Law School grad, Grant, before everything fell apart, headed his own 20-employee firm, Jeffrey D. Grant & Associates, in Mamaroneck, New York, serving as outside general counsel to large real estate companies.
“I viewed life as a competition,” he said, describing himself as akin to “a paid assassin.”
“It was me against everyone else, or me and my client against everyone else.”
After a sports injury, he was prescribed the painkiller Demerol and over the course of a decade, he became addicted to prescription opioids.
When he couldn’t meet payroll for his firm, he borrowed money from client escrow accounts. With a New York state attorney grievance committee investigation pending, he surrendered his law license on July 28, 2002. That night, he attempted suicide by overdose, he told me.
He wound up in rehab, embracing recovery with three meetings a day. He’s been clean and sober ever since.
But his past caught up with him in 2004, when he learned there was a warrant for his arrest. “No one was more surprised than me,” Grant said. Once informed of the charges, though, it “all came rushing back.”
In the wake of the September 11, 2001 attacks, he had applied for federal financial aid and falsely claimed that his firm had an office in New York City. In reality, he merely had an arrangement to use a conference room on occasion in the city.
Did he somehow convince himself this qualified? I asked. “I was a lawyer who represented sophisticated businesspeople,” he said. “I knew better.”
“There’s no question drugs had a lot to do with it, but I can’t blame the drugs,” he continued. “I was desperate, clutching at anything I could.”
Grant served 14 months at a low security prison in White Deer, Pennsylvania – but it was a “real prison with bars,” he said, not one of the so-called Club Fed camps where white-collar offenders typically do their time.
As a “privileged kid from the suburbs,” he said, “I had to learn hard lessons there. But it was exactly what I needed to wipe the last smirk off my face.”
Released in 2007, he knew he wanted to use his experiences to help others. He’s Jewish, but a pastor he knew suggested he consider attending a seminary.
“I didn’t know what that meant,” Grant recalled. (His first reaction: Is that where you train to be a monk?) But he discovered that seminaries, at least the progressive ones, “are basically places where you learn about social justice and faith.”
In 2012, he earned a master of divinity degree from Union Theological Seminary in New York City. He’s been baptized, but he’s also still a Jew. “I’m a double-belonger,” he said.
Grant and his wife Lynn Springer went on to co-found Progressive Prison Ministries. Based in Greenwich, Connecticut, they say it’s the world’s first ministry focused on serving the white-collar justice community.
It includes a weekly white-collar online support group for people “who have a desire to take responsibility for our actions and the wreckage we caused, make amends, and move forward in new way of life centered on hope, care, compassion, tolerance and empathy.” More than 310 people around the country have participated, according to the group’s website.
From 2016 to 2019, Grant also served as the executive director of Family ReEntry, a criminal justice nonprofit with offices and programs in eight Connecticut cities.
Three years ago, he began the process of getting his law license back. The first step was taking the multi-state professional responsibility exam and completing CLE. He also submitted “about 12 inches of paperwork,” he said, including his personal story.
He wrote 14,000 words. “I wanted to tell them everything, the whole story, warts and all,” he said. “It didn’t make a difference to me if strategically it was the right thing to do.” He added, “I let go of the outcome.”
He had a hearing via videoconference last May. “I was scared,” Grant said, but he was surprised to find that the panel members questioning him were “kind.”
“They were thorough and probing, but they were not out to tank me. They were supportive,” he said. “It helped me remember the best parts of being a lawyer.”
On May 5, his license was officially reinstated, and he promptly launched GrantLaw PLLC. With an office on West 43rd Street in Manhattan, he’s offering his services as a private general counsel specializing in white-collar crisis management.
That might include helping a white-collar defendant interview defense lawyers and other specialized counsel, reviewing the lawyers’ work product and billing, and acting as a sounding board, all with the goal of achieving a better and more-cost-efficient outcome.
“Most white-collar defendants are very bright, who have a lot of professional experience and are highly educated,” Grant said. “They don’t realize they’re in trauma – and are making generally very bad decisions while in trauma.”
They need “someone who understands trauma,” he said, “and somebody to trust.”
Given his life experiences, it’s hard for me to imagine a lawyer more uniquely qualified.