BANDON - There are a few people who have the courage to change lives, but Mel and Marge Scott have changed hundreds of them.

After 26 years of providing care and shelter to Oregon teens, many people would consider the Scotts expert foster parents, and the 400 children they took into their home over the last two decades prove it.

Although challenging, sheltering and caring for boys without a home, or under a probationary sentence from the state, has been a rewarding experience, Marge said.

“We've been doing this for so long, it's just part of our life,” she said with a smile. “We only take boys. They have their own problems, but I'd rather have boys.”

Marge said she and Mel raised four boys of their own and she understands young men better than girls.

“Boys have a different disposition, girls are moodier,” she said. “But you don't have to worry about boys getting pregnant.”

The couple works with teens under the supervision of the Oregon Youth Authority. The OYA exercises legal and physical custody over youth offenders between the ages of 12 and 18 who have been committed to the OYA by county juvenile courts. The state office oversees delinquent teens, providing rehabilitation, counseling and probation for children referred to out-of-home placements.

But only a few foster homes are willing to take troubled teens, the Scotts is one of four foster homes in Coos, Curry and Douglas counties that will foster OYA kids.

“The parole officers usually have one waiting. As soon as (a boy) goes out, another comes in,” Marge said. “A lot of people work with (Department of Human Services), but don't want the responsibility for these boys.”

Marge shoots a glance at Mel, her face drawn into a frown. Without them, many boys wouldn't have a place to go, she said.

Compared to Mel's quiet nature, Marge is a torrent of energy. With a face lined with kindness and eyes framed by narrow glasses, Marge keeps a positive attitude in the face of a challenge. Mel's calm, and always ready with an extra word - in case Marge misses a few - and the warmth of his brilliant smile outshines the sheen of his balding scalp.

The Scotts began working in foster care through the DHS, taking in younger children whom had been abused or neglected. But after several years they decided it would be easier to work with troubled teens.

“We had a 1-year-old and a 3-year-old for over a year, and then we had to give them back,” Marge said, glancing down at her hands, clutched in her lap. “We decided we'd rather work with teen boys after that - it's harder to get attached so quick.”

Although, she added, they still get attached to the boys. But it depends on how long they look after a teen, and whether they form a bond, she said.

Changing lives

Marge doesn't let a few wiry gray hairs fool her boys into thinking she's a mild-mannered grandmother. She's a no-nonsense-type of woman. But people soon discover Marge's penetrating stare and brusque personality hide a big heart.

Quick to say what she thinks, Marge is the opposite of Mel, who quietly listens, contributing a comment to the conversation every 20 minutes or so.

The Scotts became involved with foster care after seeing three of four sons through high school and into college. But their youngest still was at home and lonely without his brothers. Marge and Mel agreed to open their home to children in need, and hoped to provide some warmth and care to children that had seen little of either.

But they discovered the need for foster care was far greater than they had anticipated. They realized they had the potential to a great impact in the lives of children.

“This means changing kids' lives,” Marge said. “We see so many kids in Bandon, running around without anyone caring or knowing what they're doing. We hope to maybe give some of these kids a better start.”

Or in the case of the OYA teens, it's a second chance.

According to Nadine Archer Allen, an OYA certifier, the dedication demonstrated by the Scotts is “truly remarkable.”

“Marge is a go-getter and a task-master. When a youth needs to go to the doctor, and it's tough to get in as a new client, Marge is on the phone until an appointment is scheduled,” Allen said in an e-mail. “Mel is more mellow. He's the project man, and takes kids in their home fishing.”

Marge said once a young man is referred to her home, she promptly enrolls him in high school, and works to provide any and all professional support he might need; counseling, doctors appointments, work training, community service or sessions at an alcohol and drug treatment clinic.

“They don't go anywhere without us,” Marge said. “I drop them off at school, I pick them up - but if it's not raining, I'll let them walk home together.”

But as the walk takes about 10 minutes, she said she knows exactly when the boys should be home, “and if they're not, I'm out looking for them.”

Although their house has alarms on all the doors and windows, to keep the boys from trying to sneak out, the Scotts' home isn't a jail. The boys might not want to be there when they arrive, but soon adapt to the couple's expectations.

Making good grades in school is one. Earning A's and B's in high school is sometimes tough for the boys, many of whom have missed at least a year of school.

“Most of these kids are out, running around and getting into trouble, and they don't go to school,” Mel said. “Some have missed two or three years of school.”

In spite of that, the Scotts expect all of the boys to earn their high school diploma.

“They don't realize what an education is until they don't have one,” Mel said. “Some of them will be 21 before they graduate high school.”

John, 17, one of the Scotts' charges, plans to go back to his mother's house in Brookings when he's released by OYA. After five months with the Scotts, he said he wants to make their home his one and only stop in foster care.

John said the time he spent with the couple encouraged him to make some radical changes in his life.

“When I was 13 or 14, I would run away from home and live on the streets for six months at a time,” he said with a fleeting smile. “Now I just want to get my high school diploma. That idea wasn't even in my vocabulary before!”

A polished young man, he doesn't resemble the runaway he describes from his past - his changed outlook has affected his entire life.

“I used to hate school, and now I'm going to school every day and getting A's and B's,” he said. “It's quite a change.”

According to Marge, the special needs program at Bandon High School is excellent, and teachers work with their boys to be sure they're catching up.

“The teachers also know me very well,” she said. “They'll call me right away if something is wrong. I know before the kids are home if one of them missed an assignment.”

Making an impact

Out of the hundreds of boys they've cared for over the years, about 50 stay in touch on a weekly, monthly or semiannual basis. E-mails, phone calls and periodic letters keep the Scotts up to date on their former charges.

Many of the kids the Scotts housed turned their lives around. One moved north, owns his own business, and is married with children of his own, Mel said.

Another is now a certified foster parent. Two of the Scotts' sons also are involved with foster care. Duane Scott, who lives next door to his parents in Bandon, is a certified respite, or short-term, foster parent; while Mel Scott II, or “little Mel,” in Elkton, is a long-term foster parent.

The Scotts will care for a teen for a few months, or sometimes a few years. Preparing the boys for life after foster care can be difficult. Once they turn 18, OYA usually releases them from its supervision.

“They're getting all the help they need while they're here, but when they turn 18, they're out of the system. So if they don't have a family to go to, a lot of them end up back in trouble,” Marge said.

Many of the teens won't be finished with high school at 18, and without a stable home to return to after their time in the system, they may not finish school at all, she added.

Basil, 17, one of the three boys currently living with the Scotts, doesn't have a family to return to after his 18th birthday.

“I want to attend Southwestern Community College,” Basil said, shuffling his feet. “Then I want to transfer to a university in a couple years.”

Although he doesn't know what he will study at school, Basil knows that's the next step for him. The problem is, without a family nearby, it could be a hard goal for him to achieve, Marge said.

“We told him as long as he was here, his home was our home,” she said. “We want him to stay on, but we're not sure exactly how it's going to work.”

Usually foster kids move on at 18, and if Basil stays with the Scotts, they may not be able to take in another troubled boy - as OYA allows the foster home to take in only three boys at a time.

But it's a risk the Scotts are willing to take.

After 26 years in foster care, Marge said she isn't ready to retire.

“I'm one of those people who can't sit around and do nothing,” Marge said with a laugh, “so I'll probably be doing this as long as I'm able.”