Mike Anders had a gambling addiction so severe he robbed banks to feed his habit. He would beg, borrow, cheat and steal from anyone he could – even his disabled son.
Today, he is on a straighter path.
“I used to dance for the devil, and now I boogie for the Lord,” said Anders – who now goes by the catchier name “Brother Boogie.”
After his stint in federal prison, Anders started a nonprofit ministry that hires ex-offenders for jobs and helps them find housing upon their release from prison.
“I do what I do because I know the obstacles and difficulties with getting employment after imprisonment,” Anders said.
Anders was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1945. His gambling addiction began to reach dangerous levels while he was in the U.S. Army.
Driving from his station in Fort Leonard, Mo. to St. Louis every weekend, Anders would burn through a two-week paycheck during a single afternoon.
He once collected $300 toward muscular dystrophy research as a tribute to his son, who suffered from the disease. He blew it all betting on horses at the racetrack.
But even that could not break the stronghold that had come over his life.
In the early 1990s he went into a Boatman’s Bank in Clayton, showed his revolver and walked out with $6,500 cash.
He was caught after the second robbery at a Mercentile Bank, where his wife had been working for 25 years.
Anders was sentenced to 10 years in prison.
His wife divorced him, and his friends abandoned him. In his mid-50s and sick while in prison, Anders hit bottom.
That’s when his life changed.
He was invited to attend a prayer group. There, he swore to give up gambling and live a Christian life.
“It didn’t take 12 steps for me to be delivered from my addiction,” Anders said. “It took one step – Jesus Christ.”
After Anders turned his life over, he received an abundance of good fortunes.
He was released from prison six years early, and he and his wife remarried shortly thereafter.
It was during that time that he received a grant from the very bank he had previously robbed to start his prison ministry.
“I used to leave my house with a Smith and Wesson .38, now I leave with Matthew 10:38,” said Anders, now 62-years-old.
Out of their new location on Taylor Avenue, Mike Anders Prison Ministry gives ex-offenders a fresh start by providing them with transitional housing and jobs, religious teachings, substance abuse counseling and life-skills training to help them make the transition back into society.
They also offer bus passes, rides, food and clothing if needed.
Recently, the ministry received a $100,000 grant from the Ameren Community Development Corporation to begin a moving company that hires only ex-offenders.
Anders has about four male ex-offenders working full time for C.O.N.S. (Convicts Once, Now Saved) Moving and access to about 15 more workers to do bigger projects. They get paid $8 to $10 per hour.
“People coming out of prison don’t need to know how much you know, but how much you care,” Anders said. “More than anything, I offer them my friendship and encouragement.”
Cary Ball, 20, works for the company, having served three years in prison for armed robbery.
“Without Brother Boogie, I probably would have still been looking for a job or turning back to my old ways,” Ball said.
“I’m willing to change. This is a start to do that.”
Doug Burris, chief probation officer for the Eastern District of Missouri, said programs such as Anders are absolutely vital to reducing the rate of recidivism (the return of people to prison).
Burris said over 85 percent of those who return to prison at the federal level are unemployed at the time they go back.
“Anders has so much passion,” Burris said. “His life calling is clear after you spend five minutes with him.”
Wearing a blue hat that says “Relax, God is in control” and giving a constant reminder to “be encouraged,” Anders has become a well-known figure among religious groups throughout the St. Louis area.
“Brother Boogie is a blessing in disguise,” said John Lee Johnson Jr., who was locked up for possessing a firearm and now works for C.O.N.S. Moving. “Not too many will go out there and accept us for who we are.”
Religion has played a big part in Anders’ life, including his nickname.
“My grandma always called my older brother ‘Boogie,’ and I looked up to him, so I became ‘Little Boogie,’” Anders said. He became ‘Brother Boogie’ when he started his ministry.
“People coming out of prison need to know where they’re coming from doesn’t have to determine where they’re headed,” Anders said.
“An impact can be made on their lives if we are willing to walk with them and encourage them each step of the way.”
For more information on Mike Anders’ Prison Ministry or C.O.N.S. Moving, call 314-652-5700 or 314-605-7173. The office is located at 462 N. Taylor Avenue on the 3rd floor.
