HOLT — Dana Clah has gone from sitting in a jail cell to shaping what rehabilitation behind bars can look like in Okaloosa County.
A former inmate, trauma survivor, ministry leader and now founder of the Emerald Coast Life Center (ECLC), Clah is pioneering a new approach to justice reform — one rooted in healing, dignity and faith.
Her crowning initiative, the Anchored Dorm, officially launched in December 2023 at the Okaloosa County Jail, offering a four-phase, trauma-informed, faith-centered recovery program for incarcerated men.
The program is unlike anything else in Northwest Florida, and it’s largely based on Clah’s own lived experience.
“The jailhouse became my textbook, my live module,” Clah said. “I made a whole scope and sequence of what I feel was given to me by my God — a way to go back into our county jail and really change that broken system.”
Originally from Chicago, Clah moved to Florida in 1985, eventually graduating from Crestview High School and working alongside her husband in ministry and foster care services.
The couple spent a decade with the Southern Ute Indian Tribe in Colorado, specializing in therapeutic foster care and youth relationship education.
However, after returning to Florida in 2013 to care for her aging mother, Clah’s life began to unravel. A back injury, lack of insurance, job loss, homelessness and depression all spiraled into addiction and legal trouble.
“I wasn’t able to support my husband. We were struggling emotionally, physically, financially, spiritually. I withdrew from my faith,” she said. “I felt like every time I popped up out of the storm, something just pushed my head underwater even further.”
Eventually, she was incarcerated at the Florida Women’s Reception Center in 2018 on charges including grand theft and dealing in stolen property.
After her release in 2020, Clah pitched a bold idea to County Commissioner Paul Mixon: to create a recovery dorm that combines her expertise in trauma-informed care, mental health, and ministry.
At first, she was dismissed. But over time, officials saw her impact.
“I was the first Programs Director that the Crestview Area Shelter for the Homeless ever had. I went to the streets with Narcan, clothes, and found people who wanted recovery,” she said. “In 2021, 21 people were taken off the streets and put into detox and recovery.”
Clah’s consistency paid off. After a PowerPoint pitch to jail leadership in June 2023, she was told point-blank by former Chief Nolan Weeks, “We believe in you.”
The Anchored Dorm officially launched on December 4, 2023.
The program runs four months at a time and consists of four distinct phases:
Each participant logs more than 425 hours of coursework per phase, completes essays and book reports, and memorizes scripture. They also lead peer-led small groups, attend recovery classes and participate in community reintegration planning.
“We’re up at 6:15 a.m. for devotionals and prayer. Their beds are made, and we never get back in bed once programming starts,” Clah said.
“They’re learning conflict resolution, parenting, recovery training — and they’re showing up in court clean cut and prepared.”
Anchored also includes an “Anchored Prep” class for inmates not yet ready for the dorm. Clah teaches men and women twice weekly, with 95% of her participants continuing the program upon release.
Participants say the structure and vulnerability encouraged by Anchored changed their lives.
“I thought it was going to be way too much at first,” said Donnie Langley, a former inmate who spent six months in the dorm. “But you honestly crave it. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt inside jail.”
Another graduate, Tremaine Barker, said he joined after reading a pamphlet passed around in his pod.
“It was about mental health and childhood trauma, and I grew up in church, so the faith part made it easier,” he said. “It makes it more peaceful, more receiving, in my opinion.”
The dorm’s atmosphere is described as calm, quiet, and healing—a stark contrast to the noise and chaos typically found in a jail.
“It’s actually the freest I’ve ever been,” said . “It’s not even that I have to fight it anymore. The desires of my heart are changed. Now I want to do good things.”
Clah initially ran the program with no salary, supporting it entirely through faith and community donations. That changed recently when Okaloosa County allocated opioid settlement funding to support Anchored.
This funding is enabling further expansion. A women’s dorm is now in development, with County Jail Chief John Mooring backing the project.
“The girls are not succeeding yet because we don’t have a dorm,” Clah said. “But we’re fixing to have one, and our Chief is fighting for us to get it open.”
Once active, the women’s dorm will mirror the men’s in curriculum and structure, and Clah hopes it will allow female inmates to experience the same support, community, and transformation.
Clah’s impact doesn’t end at the jail. Former participants continue their recovery with weekly classes at ECLC headquarters in Holt. Some now mentor others, while others return for peer support after release.
“Sometimes they’ll spend after hours here to get counseling to stay on point,” Clah said. “They’re more likely to get back on track after a relapse — and they keep showing up.”
Clah reports a 93% success rate, meaning those who complete the dorm program rarely return to jail — a dramatic contrast to the county’s 63% recidivism rate.
Plans for the future include recovery homes for both men and women, affordable housing partnerships, and regional expansion.
“I want an Anchor program in every jail in Northwest Florida,” Clah said. “We’re working with a couple who have land in Milligan to create affordable housing. We want to walk with people long after they leave jail.”
ECLC also welcomes members of the public from Crestview, Holt, Fort Walton Beach, and beyond who wish to leave a life of crime and addiction.
“Absolutely. We want to serve everyone,” Clah said. “We’re already training recovery teams in other counties and want to open offices in Santa Rosa (County), Miramar Beach, and Defuniak (Springs).”
Clah is quick to clarify that Anchored isn’t just a faith-based initiative — it’s trauma-informed first.
“I don’t like to be recognized only as a faith-based initiative,” she said. “We’re mental health ready to serve and support with Christ at the center.”
She refers to the participants not as inmates but as “brothers and sisters.” And when asked what sets Anchored apart, she pointed to the emotional openness of the men she works with.
“They created this space on the inside,” she said. “They’ve learned how to sit peaceably, resolve conflict. The officers can’t believe it. They’re watching on the cameras like, ‘I don’t know how she does it.'”
For Clah, this work is personal. After surviving abandonment, addiction, incarceration, and an overlooked cry for help, she now dedicates her life to ensuring others feel seen, supported, and free in a new life through Christ.
“I didn’t have anybody raise me up and teach me this,” she said. “Everything we teach — the fidelity of this whole organization — was Holy Spirit-led.”