Ronnie Rogers has lost track of the number of hours he has spent walking up and down Ringgold Road over the past 17 months.

His daily hikes started as a job search during the summer of 2007. But he quickly learned that no one wants to employ a man whose resume is limited to a brief stint cooking hamburgers at Krystal in 1960 followed by a number of felony convictions, including two manslaughters and a first-degree murder.

So the walks have become somewhat of an emotional ritual, a way for the 65-year-old to feel like he is finally moving along with the world that passed him by as he remained in a prison cell.

This is the longest he has been out of prison since 1958, and Mr. Rogers can’t stop staring at the bright signs and the cars racing by.

“Everything’s just so interesting to me now. I can really enjoy and appreciate things more,” he said. “I’ve missed so much of my life, I want to live as much as I can now.”

The trouble started back around 1955, when Mr. Rogers, one of six children growing up in the projects in Boone Heights, decided he was “tired of the Salvation Army bringing us Thanksgiving.”

Shoplifting escalated to attempted burglary and car theft, and he faced additional charges after a brief escape from Silverdale Workhouse in 1963 during which he stole guns from the guards.

In 1969, Mr. Rogers said, two men tried to rob him outside a honky tonk at the corner of 4th and Market streets downtown, so he started shooting. Both of them died.

He says he was heavily involved with drugs and alcohol, and continued to use while in prison. He recalls being high the day in 1973 when he “happened to get into it” with his cellmate, who died during the altercation.

Mr. Rogers’ family was supportive throughout, said his sister, Sandra Reeves.

“I’ve always loved him,” she said. “He’s family. He’s my brother.”

The family spoke up for him during parole hearings for years, Mrs. Reeves recalled. But, well aware of his record of violence and parole violations, they “never dreamed he would ever get out,” she said.

He appeared before the parole board 11 times in 20 years before he was granted parole in 2007, shortly after he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer.

Mr. Rogers firmly believes that he would never have made it this long out of prison without the support of a loving family. Mrs. Reeves immediately took him in and helped him get three months of part-time house-painting work.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last. Mr. Rogers was still just another aged prisoner who had been released with no job experience or interpersonal skills.

But after reading a newspaper article about Chattanooga Endeavors, he decided to give the nonprofit organization a call. Chief Executive Officer Tim Dempsey helped Mr. Rogers find help at Alexian Brothers Senior Neighbors, which uses federal grant money to help older workers find employment. Senior Neighbors paid for him to work part-time as a receptionist at Chattanooga Endeavors, where he could learn how to talk to people again.

Having never even touched a computer before, Mr. Rogers also enrolled in a class to learn how to use one.

Now, said Cindi Crutchfield, director of employment and training, “he’s doing wonderful.”

Mr. Dempsey agreed.

“He’s surfing the Web and using Google maps,” Mr. Dempsey said.

But Mr. Rogers knows it may be some time before anyone will give him a chance at a full-time job.

“That’s just the way people treat you when you get out of prison,” he said. “I’ve just got to prove to everybody that they’ve made a mistake on me.”

Mr. Rogers believes he’s finally turned a corner. He now feels ashamed of the tattoos snaking up his arms, and he cringes when someone asks him to talk about life in prison.

“I was just miserable the last 10 years in there,” Mr. Rogers said. “I don’t care if I have to live under a bridge. I’m not going back. You just can’t believe how sick and tired you get of that life.”