BOULDER � Walking into the conference room, Tom apologizes as he first makes a phone call.

The 24-year-old tells someone on the other end of the call that he's arrived here, then seats himself in a comfortable chair at the table and leans back to talk about the circumstances that brought him here.

Sporting wire-rimmed glasses, he wears a muted plaid shirt of browns and blue Levis. His appearance is neat, with beard trimmed and hair pulled back into a ponytail. A baseball hat rests on the table in front of him.

In the 1.5 years he's been at Montana Developmental Center, he's come a long way, he said.

Tom shatters those stereotypes for those who think individuals with developmental disabilities look or dress or act a certain way. You might not think twice about passing him on the street. Some could mistake him for staff.

No Forrest Gump, making the best out of the box of chocolates life's handed him, Tom and his world revolved around drugs, particularly methamphetamine and marijuana.

"I was into drugs pretty bad. I used to steal quite a bit," Tom said. "Every time I applied for a job, they'd turn me down because of my reputation.

"I had my own little groupies that I'd like to hang out with. All I cared about was me, me, me."

Declining to talk about what crime put him here, he acknowledged he "came here from jail."

He's one of five residents at MDC here on criminal commitments. About 20 of the 64 residents at MDC have criminal complaints against them, but most haven't been tried for their crimes.

"We've been dealing with issues of guilty but not mentally competent at the time (of the offense)," said Kathy Zeeck, superintendent of MDC. "These are people with significant mental health issues and severe developmental disabilities. They don't fit comfortably in either system."

In a prison or mental hospital, they would be victimized by others.

All MDC residents are here via the courts, either through a criminal or civil commitment procedure. All are an imminent threat to either themselves or others.

It's MDC's mission to provide these clients the training and therapy they need to move back into the community.

At MDC, Tom has worked as a janitor, but is switching jobs to the warehouse. And he fills shifts at the campus general store. Every other Wednesday is payday, and Tom is taking a class on how to budget his new earnings.

Days are structured from the moment he wakes up until bedtime with work, play, therapy, classes or recreation.

He rises at 5:30 or 6 a.m. in his unit, which looks like a typical residential home in a well-kept neighborhood of similar homes on the MDC campus. As many as 11 other housemates share the unit, all of them sex offenders.

Work begins at 7:30 a.m., with Tom checking inventory or helping staff deliver supplies to the units and offices.

Throughout the day, he regularly reports his location to staff, who on most units need to record where each client is every half hour. On locked units, it's every 15 minutes.

During the day, staffing on his unit is one staff per two clients during most of the day, and one staff per three clients from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.

Tom has worked his way up to level two in a three-level therapy program specifically designed for sex offenders. At each level he earns an increasing amount of trust and independence and is allowed to move between some buildings on campus. If there's any problem with trust or even a small but significant transgression, this freedom will be immediately curtailed.

None of the clients can leave campus without a staff member.

His treatment includes two 12-step alcohol and substance abuse programs, one on campus and one in the community.

"I'm starting a class, narcotics class � chemical dependency, one-on-one with a therapist," Tom said. "It's helped me spectacularly (being at MDC). It's helped me really well with getting a job. I'm doing my treatment well.

"� It's really helped me with drugs and other stuff I'm in here for."

His communications class is helping him learn to resolve issues and talk them through before they blow up into confrontations.

He also attends a boundaries class, learning what is appropriate and inappropriate touching.

"We can't hug," he said. "Occasionally we can shake hands. We can only touch if we go to dances."

Every other Friday there's a dance class at MDC � a mix of rock 'n' roll and country western.

Tom's also learning he likes to cook. MDC clients are taking a nutrition class and learning how to plan and cook their own breakfasts. Eventually all clients will be cooking all their meals in each house.

When he's not working or in class, Tom's favorite pastime is playing cribbage. He also shoots pool or throws darts. Not one to sit around, he welcomes the other recreational choices � foosball, computer games, swimming and movie rentals. In summer, they go camping, swim at the Boulder city pool during a private swim session, and go fishing. They can also request that staff take them shopping for clothes or music.

"We can have our own TVs, iPods, MP3 players. You can pretty much have what you want," Tom said, adding that there are a few exceptions. "We can't have scissors. � We can have our own razors but they are kept locked up."

MDC doesn't allow alcohol, but residents can smoke cigarettes. However, only staff can have lighters or matches.

Tom was scared when he first got here, he said, but isn't any more. It's not like his former life, where he was free to come and go � yet it's better than jail.

"It's all right. It has its days," he said. "There can be bad days. It's better than being in another place, which probably would have been Deer Lodge (prison) � so I'd rather be here than there."

Pictures of a new life are beginning to fall into place. Tom longs to be closer to his family. It's too far a drive for them to visit. His father has made the trip to MDC only once, as did his grandfather and an aunt and uncle. His mother never came. She lives in Canada.

His new life won't be in his hometown. He can't return, he said, because he's on probation. Nor does he want to. There's too much temptation there. Too many drugs.

If he's lucky, he might be able to live in an apartment, under the supervision of a probation officer.

"I think about my daughter a lot. She's 3. I haven't seen her since she was 8 months old," Tom said.

"It was probably the drugs that tore me away from my dad and mom, my daughter and her mom …" his voice trails off.

"I didn't know how to feel in love."

For videos and a complete list of stories in the IR's four-part series on Boulder's institutions, check out www.helenair.com/boulder

Reporter Marga Lincoln: 447-4074 or marga.lincoln@helenair.com