After decades behind bars, artist embraces fresh start in Modesto

When John Sams begins to tell his story, it’s not immediately clear where things went wrong, leading the now-65-year-old Modestan to spend about a third of his life behind bars.

He was born in Houston, and his family moved to South Central Los Angeles when he was 8 or 9. Third of seven brothers, he was reared by a single mom – his father was heroin-addicted, largely absent and died in 1983 – there and then in Watts and the Aliso Village housing project.

A woman of strong faith, his mother raised him in the church, Sams says. And though he was dyslexic and was promoted from grade to grade in school “whether I got it or not,” he earned his GED. He is a talented artist and studied design at Los Angeles City College and then landscape management at Los Angeles Trade-Tech.

Through a program set up through the federal Comprehensive Employment and Training Act, he worked five years as a landscaper for the L.A. Housing Authority. When the program ended, he passed the Housing Authority’s written and performance tests and became a permanent employee.

During this period, he also had children and married his first wife.

The darker side of the tale emerges as he continues to share. He’d begun selling cocaine, including what’s now called crack. “I was out there trying to do what I had to do” to support his family, he says. But in addition to selling, he was using, and “addiction took me under.”

From age 19, Sams was in and out of jail, racking up convictions that included a couple of “wobblers” – felonies that could have been charged as misdemeanors. Early into his 40s, a felony conviction of receiving stolen property landed him a sentence of 28 years to life under California’s three-strikes law.

This all leads to a time Sams finds much easier to pinpoint: when his life made a dramatic turn for the better.

It was nearly four years ago, and Sams – a nonviolent offender – was released from San Quentin State Prison on probation under Proposition 36, the Substance Abuse and Crime Prevention Act. A prison worker who helped inmates find resources before their release told him, “Mr. Sams, I know a good place I think you would do well at. ... Modesto.”

She got him on the phone briefly with the chaplain at Modesto Gospel Mission, then one of Sams’ daughters in L.A. followed up with another phone conversation. She called her dad to tell him, “They said come on, they have a bed for you.”

Sams came to the city knowing no one, but bringing three things: his artistic ability, a strong determination he’d developed in prison to continue bettering himself, and a talent for cutting hair.

Younger brother Jonathan Sams recalls from their childhood: “Luckily, unlike other poor families in our neighborhood, we were blessed to have a brother that was blessed with the natural ability to cut hair without any formal training.”

John Sams barbered all the while serving time, and then did so at the Gospel Mission. He cut the hair of adults and children served by the mission, even some mission staff, he says. And eager to share his other talent, he got permission to paint a landscape mural in the Yosemite Boulevard facility’s clothing room.

“Right away, we knew he was a guy who had a lot of potential and was just looking for a hand up,” says mission Executive Director Kevin Carroll. “Just in conversations with him, I knew he had a lot of hopes and dreams. The misnomer is that a lot of people who are incarcerated have no potential. But he was working on getting his barber license, and his work ethic impressed me.”

Sams also impressed John Black, CEO of Peer Recovery Art Project. Still new in town, Sams learned of the J Street gallery, visited and asked if he could bring by some of his work.

The man’s talent was obvious, Black says, and Peer Recovery put some of his pieces in shows and had Sams speak at events. He was instrumental in establishing a shoeshine stand at Peer Recovery to raise money for the nonprofit, he’s worked on several murals around downtown, and he’s volunteered many hours cutting hair for the homeless and mentally ill.

One of the “highlights of my whole life,” Black says, was taking Sams to Sacramento, where the artist presented then-Sen. Darrell Steinberg with an original pencil drawing emblematic of the struggle of the homeless and mentally ill in California.

Steinberg, now mayor of Sacramento, was terming out of the Legislature, where as an assemblyman and senator he was an advocate for the homeless and mentally ill and authored the Mental Health Services Act.

Sams’ drawing, showing a man’s progression from living along a river to having a home, was presented at a gala in Steinberg’s honor, Black says. Attendees were so impressed, he says, that they “were fighting to get past Darrell to shake John’s hand.”

Ruben Imperial, now with the Stanislaus County chief executive’s office, was chief of the adult system of care for county Behavioral Health and Recovery Services when he met Sams. He says he views Sams as a colleague, a partner in trying to make positive change in the community.

Through his art and other passions, Sams is making real connections with people here, Imperial says. “There are things we know we need in our lives that contribute to our behavioral health, our mental health, just as diet and exercise do with physical health. With mental health, there are similar things a person can do, and one is engagement and we find meaning in doing. If there’s something I’m good it and can do it for 10 hours without even thinking about the time, that’s engagement. That’s him with his artwork.”

There’s no bigger fan of Sams’ artwork than his wife, Dot, whom he wed a couple years back. Her husband has been grateful for shows and sales of his work, she says, but also has not wanted to be a starving artist. He’d tell her, “I want to be able to support myself and feel better about myself,” she says, and so she encouraged his efforts to get his barber’s license.

Sams attended barber college in Riverbank and just a few weeks ago passed his practical and written exams to earn his license. He’s now building a clientele – including regulars who had him cut their hair at the college – and planning to get a business license to open a small shop, Sammy D’s. The “D” is for Dot.

“I owe a lot to this town,” Sams says. “I didn’t know anybody, but the resources here – every door opened, and it seems like every place I put myself was a positive place I was able to grow and learn.”

This story was originally published March 16, 2017 at 6:26 PM with the headline "After decades behind bars, artist embraces fresh start in Modesto."