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Oh Brother I
Mountainview Administrator
Finds Himself on Familiar Turf
Oh Brother II
He Remains Committed to
'Third Level of Law Enforcement'
Bruce Hauck isn't about mandates. Instead, he's about communications. "We're paid to make dispassionate decisions, based on laws and regulations," said Hauck, administrator of Mountainview Youth Correctional Facility since June 2005. "Nonetheless, we have to take into consideration that these decisions often impact on people's lives. I've always found that if you can get people to understand why a certain rule is in place, and why it has to be followed, everyone is better off."

It is an approach that Hauck began to develop more than two decades ago while a student at Virginia Military Institute (VMI). After earning all-state honors as an offensive tackle at North Hunterdon High School in Annandale, Hauck chose to attend VMI from among a host of suitors that also included West Point, the Citadel, Temple, Villanova and Delaware.

Seen from a distance at 4:30 a.m., the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women resembles a college campus. It seems in no way out of place situated in the middle of the rolling, moneyed hills of Hunterdon County in the early-morning light. Associate Administrator William Hauck, who came to Edna Mahan in 1994 -- after seven years of working with youthful offenders -- is on a first-name basis with officers at the gate, and after asking about their families, he is at his desk by 4:35.

"This is the only time in the day the phone isn't ringing," he explains. "I can get my paperwork done."

Armed with an impressive academic background, a sharp wit and an abundance of kindness and resolve, Hauck makes his way through the prison, greeting the departing third shift and the arriving first-shift officers.


"At VMI, I learned to work with people in restrictive circumstances," he said, adding that at the time, he was unaware of how frequently he would be called on to utilize those lessons in future years.

"The honor code and sense of fairness I was taught at VMI has stayed with me."

"The honor code and sense of fairness I was taught at VMI has stayed with me." Hauck continued. "Every cadet was treated the same, regardless of background. I've always tried to apply the same standards to my interactions on the job."

photo of Bruce and William Hauck

The name Hauck has become synonymous with the New Jersey Department of
Corrections in Hunterdon County due to the presence of brothers Bruce (left) and William Hauck.


"Communication, common sense and consistency are the watchwords in this job," he says. "If the officers, staff and inmates know your name, you're doing what you should - walking the jail."

And know him they do. While walking from one cottage to the next, no less than six inmates stop to ask Hauck questions about their parole dates, their schedules and work assignments - and if he doesn't have their answers, he writes a note on his ever-present pad.

In 1985, shortly after graduating from VMI - where he also spent four years as part of the Army Reserves Officers Training Corps (ROTC) - he went to work for the New Jersey Department of Corrections. He was hired as a program development specialist in the department's Office of Human Resources.

"I was thinking about getting a job in Virginia, but my dad told me about the advantages of working for the state, particularly in terms of benefits," Hauck recalled.

Within 13 months, he became a hearing officer and later a personnel officer. Then, in May of '87, he was assigned to Mountainview for the first time. He was not the first member of his family to work there; his mother, who died when he was 12 and his brother, Bill, was 10, spent a brief period working as a nurse at Mountainview.

Hauck remained at Mountainview until 1999. By then, he had been promoted to assistant superintendent of the facility.

"I felt especially fortunate to be at Mountainview, because of the proximity to where I grew up," he said. "Considering the number of quality people in this department, I was extremely honored to become an assistant superintendent."


His ascension, however, was not complete. Hauck spent five years at Northern State Prison, the final four as associate administrator. In May 2004, he became administrator of the Central Reception and Assignment Facility (CRAF).

Last June, Hauck succeeded Joseph Rizzo as Mountainview administrator. Rizzo, incidentally, moved into Hauck's position as CRAF.

"It's been quite a ride," Hauck said with a chuckle.

The ride has been made easier by his brother, Bill (see accompanying article), who has followed a similar career path. "I might be an administrator, a husband and a father, but my true claim to fame is that I'm Bill Hauck's brother," he deadpanned.

Said the younger Hauck, the associate administrator at nearby Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women: "I consider Bruce my best friend and confidant. We talk every morning and night -- not about the prisons but other issues and events and, of course, family concerns.

"We always will look out for each other and keep each other focused and on point. The only things you have in life are family and friends, and with Bruce, I have both in one. Everyone should have an older brother like I have - someone who has a heart of gold and a general concern for the well being of others."

More than a few of Bruce Hauck's co-workers heartily agree with his brother's description of him.

"Knowing his work ethic - which a lot of us did, from having worked with him before --makes it easy to work for him," secretarial assistant Lorraine Hendershot said of her boss. "It made for an easy transition. He fit into this place like a hand fits into a glove."

If his staff appreciates Hauck, the feeling is mutual.

"In addition to the obvious, there is so much that goes into running a facility - food service, maintenance, educational programs," Hauck concluded. "The staff has constant interaction with the inmate population over the course of three shifts. I don't think the public realizes the level of professionalism exhibited by correctional staff 24/7. But those of us who do this day in and day out certainly do."

"The honor code and sense of fairness I was taught at VMI has stayed with me."


The only prison for females in New Jersey, Edna Mahan has it all - minimum, medium and maximum security housing, vocational training, stabilization units, intake. In many ways, it is similar to the men's prisons. However, there are differences -- some obvious, some more subtle.

Growing up literally in the shadow of Edna Mahan, Hauck's mother, a registered nurse, worked at both Clinton (Edna Mahan) and neighboring Annandale (now known as Mountainview Youth Correctional Facility), so entering the correctional field was not a stretch for Hauck. Although his undergraduate major was political science, his minor was criminal justice, as was his master's degree. Longtime former Commissioner William Fauver was a friend and neighbor, and Hauck credits Fauver's guidance and advice for steering him into his chosen career. Also acting as a mentor, Fauver provided Hauck with many valuable lessons.

"He never lost his cool, never lost his focus" Hauck says.

Former Acting Commissioner Gary Hilton, who had also been the administrator of Edna Mahan, was "an operations wizard, and knew how to run - and, yes, build - a prison," Hauck remarks.

Another major influence is Hauck's professional career has been Edna Mahan Administrator Charlotte Blackwell, his longtime supervisor.

"She's spent 18 years at the helm of Edna Mahan, passed up promotions to stay at the institution," he notes. "Now that's devotion."

One of the lessons he's learned throughout the years is that corrections -- "the third level of law enforcement" according to Hauck -- is not for everyone.

"The first level is the street officer, municipal or state, who arrests the individual," he says. "The second level is the court, which handles the sentencing. We in corrections are the third, and arguably, the most challenging level. While the police officer and judge spend a limited amount of time with the accused, the corrections professional will live with that inmate for months, years and sometimes decades, which is why programming - be it GED prep, upholstery, horticulture or Puppies Behind Bars - assumes great importance. Inmates who spend their time constructively here cause fewer problems in the prison and greatly enhance their chances for success when they leave. It's a win-win."

Having worked with both female and male offenders affords Hauck insight into the different dynamics and unique problems posed by both.

"Seventy-five percent of the women are mothers, and essentially they run their homes from prisons," he says. "Visit days, letters from home and telephone calls are the only means by which these moms can interact with their children. Their ties to home seem much stronger than incarcerated fathers."

Family plays an important role in Bill Hauck's life as well. Hunterdon County's other prison, Mountainview, is run by Hauck's older brother, Bruce (see accompanying article).

"Along with my wife, Dawn, Bill is my best friend in life," the elder Hauck says. "He has always been there for our family and is the best uncle and brother-in law in the world. He is very dedicated and generous to his family, friends, job and church. He is comfortable in all situations and can be counted on, especially in times of crisis or emergency, to make appropriate decisions, provide wise counsel and support, all with a great sense of humor."

Perhaps Blackwell, a longtime friend and co-worker, puts it best. "Bill is one of the most energized individuals I've ever met," the Edna Mahan administrator says. "He provides and engenders a strong team presence in the prison, and his responsiveness and insight are appreciated by co-workers and the women in the prison as well. He takes the issues of the offenders seriously and gives a great deal of thought to their concerns. He doesn't limit himself to administrative thoughts, processes and tasks. Rather, he pitches in and works alongside line staff, routinely and in emergent situations, and supports them in both thought and action.

"He lives for his job," she adds, "and it shows."

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