They came from all over the state with their resumes and their high hopes.

Hardly any of the resumes said "ex-offender looking for work."

At the inaugural I-80 Re-entry Job Fair, that was a given. You didn't have to be a correctional facility graduate to talk to prospective employers, but this time your criminal past wasn't a deal-killer.

U.S. District Judge Robert Pratt kicked things off at the Polk County Convention Complex on Thursday by telling everyone how important it was for employers to take a chance on these folks. When ex-offenders find work and stay off alcohol and drugs, the success rate soars. When they don't, chances are good they'll find their way back to prison.

The idea makes sense. The Iowa economy is growing faster than the population. We're looking at a severe skills shortage over the next 10 years.

Meanwhile, the prisons are overflowing.

This week, the Pew Center released a study that said, for the first time, more than one in every 100 American adults is in jail or prison: 230 million adults, 2.32 million prisoners.

You think college tuition is skyrocketing? Prison costs are rising at a rate six times greater. Would you rather have a taxpayer making $30,000 a year or a $30,000 tax burden?

"Nobody has more motivation than an ex-offender," Pratt told the crowd. "Condemn the conduct but not the offender."

Then it was time to set them loose. "Let's everybody go get a job," Pratt said.

At least 25 companies set up tables on the ground floor for 400 job-seekers. There were local big dogs like Pioneer Hi-Bred, Vermeer and Bankers Trust. There were little guys like Advance Asphalt and Seibert Trucking. There were chains like Arby's, Manpower and O'Reilly Auto Parts. There were social service agencies serving as sponsors with Iowa Workforce Development, Federal Probation and Parole, and the Iowa Department of Corrections.

There were tables for filling out applications. There was a sign above one table that said "Public Records Checked While You Wait."

There was an interview room and a clothes closet for anyone who needed more starch. Some of the job hunters wore jackets and ties. Some wore jeans and tattoos.

A group from the Mitchellville women's prison wore blue prison-issue work scrubs, passed out resumes and made contacts for later. Others were on probation. One busload came in from Davenport. One rolled in from Council Bluffs.

Clifton Johnson of Des Moines looked particularly sharp in a navy blue pinstripe suit he bought on sale at Younkers. Wearing a bright orange tie with a matching handkerchief, Johnson, 37, was ready to dive in.

He has a part-time job at Hy-Vee. He likes the work and the co-workers. But he was thinking full-time.

He handed me his resume, which makes no mention of the seven months he served on a shoplifting charge.

"It's the question I dread in a job interview," he said. "I don't bring it up. But if somebody asks, I tell the truth."

Johnson says he's been drug-free for almost a year and is determined to extend his winning streak. He's a small-group leader at church. He does volunteer work.

"I'm blessed," he says.

The Mitchellville women were pumped. The people at the O'Reilly table gave them an encouraging word.

"They said they hire felons," somebody said.

"This is a great experience," said Amanda Young, who was in Mitchellville on a second driving-while-barred offense.

Near the top of her resume, under employment, it says: "Inmate Worker: Duties include but not limited to organizing warehouses, general cleaning, buffing and waxing floors, shampooing carpets, cleaning dining facilities, maintenance and use of powered and non-powered pallet jacks, loading and unloading of trucks, familiar with use of commercial laundry machines and many hand tools."

She and the other members of the group live in the same "outside the fence" minimum-security unit. Some work at Camp Dodge for as little as $5 a day. They can't wait to get out and test their work ethic for a living wage.

One woman has been in nine years for involuntary manslaughter and drug dealing. She's proud of the work she does in prison and the skills she's learned.

Some of the Mitchellville residents work for Iowa Prison Industries, where they learn the ins and outs of printing and upholstering. One woman killed a man with a knife. The man was wielding a baseball bat. He died on the way to the hospital and she took a plea. She's been in prison for 13 years and is scheduled to meet the parole board for the first time.

Now she says she works 12 hours a day in printing and graphics design and feels good about herself. She's proud of the tag on her shirt that says she's a "mentor."

Aaron Coon of Grimes was clutching a resume that said he was a self-starter and a quick learner. He'll turn 21 this month but looks younger. He has a new wife and a new house in Grimes and no job.

He was working for Interstate Battery in Windsor Heights. Coon was a good salesman. He got along with his co-workers, who are still rooting for him.

But he was let go, he says, after a background check revealed a sex crime conviction. He was 19, he says. She was 14. It was consensual and wrong, a "one-time lack of judgment." Coon walked away with a deferred sentence and probation.

He knew he had to change. He wants to raise a family someday. Coon met his wife of four months at church. She and her family have been terrific. They're helping him turn it around.

If Coon can stay out of trouble for another two years, the slate is clean. But first things first.

"It's hard to find work," he says.

The research says the odds are much better for Aaron Coon, and those around him, if somebody steps up, takes a chance, and gives him a job.

Columnist Marc Hansen can be reached at (515) 284-8534 or mahansen@dmreg.com