Carnett: The worst of the worst can be redeemed

Kudos for your candor, Mr. Well-Known Crime Boss With a Lengthy Record.

For once you’ve done the right thing. Good behavior deserves acknowledgement.

James “Whitey” Bulger recently wrote a response to a letter sent to him by three Massachusetts high school students. And he didn’t wheedle or obfuscate.

He stated clearly that his life, to this point, has been a grinding, twisting, bone-crushing trainwreck: the California Zephyr plunging into the Orient Express.

His days have been drenched with self-inflicted misery. To his credit, after decades of utter self-absorption, Whitey has apparently taken responsibility for his actions. Bulger is serving a life sentence in federal prison for some horrific crimes. He was convicted in 2013 of racketeering and having a role in no less than 11 murders.

I’m guessing it’s not easy for a narcissist to admit to a trio of wide-eyed adolescents that his life has been a failure. Maybe at 85 he felt it was time to fess up, confront his demons and face the music. By any standard, his “mistakes” are monumental.

Bad choices lead to bad consequences, but it’s never too late. Redemption is available to the vilest offender. Who am I to point my corrupt finger at another, despicable though his acts may have been?

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” cautioned Jesus Christ. The psalmist coined a celebratory and grateful expression: “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so.”

Redemption is transformative and can turn even the darkest heart. But I’m not certain that’s what’s happened here.

Anyone can utter platitudes. There’s no way of knowing whether Bulger is sincere or not. Nor is it within my purview to render a judgment. One — light years above my lowly rank — will someday sort it all out. Guaranteed!

Bulger’s recent first step seems to be in the right direction, however. And it may presage further steps.

German pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was killed in a Nazi death camp in 1945, once made this observation: “If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the opposite direction.” To truly change destinations, one must get off the wrong train and climb aboard the right one.

As part of a school project on the topic “Crime Doesn’t Pay,” the three high school students wrote Bulger a letter soliciting advice. Bulger responded with refreshing honesty. He counseled them not to waste their time “on such as I.”

He hadn’t been sufficiently remorseful and repentant before his final arrest, however. That would have necessitated him giving up his freedom and surrendering to authorities, which he didn’t do.

Rather, he waited until he had virtually no options. Yet, he did take the step. He’d spent 16 years on the lam and became the most wanted fugitive of his generation.

“My life was wasted and spent foolishly ... and will end soon,” he wrote the students.

Further, he acknowledged that he’d brought “shame and suffering” upon his family, a remarkable admission for a career criminal. He’d actually communicated quite the opposite message the previous 84 years.

But age and circumstance — like a dank prison cell and a future without hope — can lead one to painful and extreme conclusions.

We all harbor regrets. Things I viewed as benign at 17 I see differently at 70. Things I didn’t regret at 37 I regret today.

Those of us in the autumn and winter years of life know what it’s like to look back and shake our heads. We mull such unpleasant thoughts as: “How could I have been so selfish?” and “Did I not realize what I was doing?”

Perhaps Bulger is experiencing similar thoughts. Maybe he realizes what a mess he’s made of things. Join the club.

Mess or no, it’s never too late. As my pastor is wont to emphasize, like the thief on the cross we can be saved — redeemed — right up until the very last moment.

I’m rooting for you, Whitey.

JIM CARNETT, who lives in Costa Mesa, worked for Orange Coast College for 37 years.