For anguished young girl, mentor provided a lifeline

This is what Erin Rutledge learned at age 10, after her mother overdosed on the couch while she lay next to her, sleeping:

In time, you make no sound when you cry. And the ache that threatens to swallow you is best battled with denial.

The young girl buried that night so deeply that nothing could pry it out of her — not for years, anyway, until a woman named Trish May walked into Rutledge's life as her mentor and said, "I am here to listen to you."

"Trish literally saved me," said Rutledge, 23.

Rutledge and May were matched up through the SUCCESS Mentoring Program at Youth Eastside Services in Bellevue. The agency is one of 12 assisted by The Seattle Times' Fund For The Needy. Its mentoring program recruits adult volunteers to serve as positive role models to young people struggling with their academic, social or personal lives.

The mentors encourage young people to develop the skills they need to be successful in life, help them build self-esteem and provide support and guidance.

Rutledge and May now share an easy rapport built on a decade of trust and friendship. The older woman sparkles with pride when Rutledge talks about her dreams of becoming a police officer.

But not long ago, May wondered if Rutledge would make it.

The two met when Rutledge was 13, three years after her mother died.

Her dad was drinking, having crumbled with grief. He had lost his job, Rutledge said, so her three brothers relied on her to run their Redmond household. She focused her energy on caring for the broken family.

Cooking, washing and cleaning became her priorities, she said. Schoolwork took a backseat.

Money was unpredictable, and hunger became a familiar feeling. She entered adolescence angry and withdrawn. Her self-esteem took a downward turn when teachers put her in remedial classes because of low grades.

"I was numb," Rutledge said. "I didn't know where to place my feelings. I wanted to be the rock in my family. I had to be the strong person because I didn't know if anyone else was going to be there.

"I was thinking to myself, 'This is not the way my life is supposed to be.' "

Enter May.

A director of marketing at Microsoft, May was at a point when she longed to reach out to other people.

"I wanted a fuller, richer life," she said.

She had heard how rewarding a mentoring relationship could be. So she called Youth Eastside Services.

May recalled meeting the "sweet, gentle girl."

"Erin was trying so hard to keep it all together," she said.

Although May saw through the fragile exterior, she never pushed Rutledge. Her approach: Let the young girl take the lead. They met once a week for about two or three hours to do homework or take walks.

Rutledge guarded her privacy. When issues got too personal, she changed the subject.

But one year into their relationship, a breakthrough came. The pair were walking along Alki Beach when Rutledge began to sob. The story of her mother's death tumbled out.

"In my mind it was a watershed moment," May said

"That was when I realized she trusted me to tell the deepest part of her."

Fast forward to 2006. Rutledge has turned her anger, grief and resentment into a searing drive to succeed. In the spring, she will graduate from Seattle University with a bachelor's degree in criminal justice, specializing in forensic psychology. Her goal is to become a Bellevue police officer.

It was an obvious career choice, she said. She remembers the police coming to her door the night her mother died. Rutledge was shaking, and one of the officers gave her a teddy bear and took her and her younger brother out to eat.

It planted a seed. Someday, she told herself, she wanted to have that job.

"It made me realize that you may not know somebody, but you can love them just like your own family," Rutledge said. "You can take care of them. You can be there for them.

"It's like that with Trish. She is my family. She is my best friend."

And when Rutledge walks down the aisle in her cap and gown, her best friend will be there, cheering her on.

Sonia Krishnan: 206-515-5546 or skrishnan@seattletimes.com