Homeless in Las Vegas: Stories from the Street

Chapter Seven. Homeless, Not Criminal: Jack

Jack, a middle-aged African American man who once had drug problems, seems to have accepted his homelessness. Having served in Vietnam, Jack greatly appreciates the freedoms that come with being a U.S. citizen . He argues that not everyone can find a place in “normal” society and that homeless people still love America but resent the criminalization of behaviors associated with homelessness. I met Jack at the annual Stand Down for the Homeless event on November 9, 2005. He is a thin, fifty-one-year-old African American man with black hair and a goatee with traces of gray. We were introduced by a local police officer who knew many people at the event and who told me that Jack would be good to talk to. Jack and I spoke for an hour while eating hot dogs provided for free at the Stand Down, which could be described as a homeless fair. Similar Stand Down events are held each year across the nation for homeless people to learn more about assistance available in their community . The Las Vegas Stand Down often attracts around two thousand homeless and near homeless people who can then access services and information in one location, all day. Social workers distribute pamphlets on shelters, substance abuse treatment, child-care programs, veteran’s assistance programs, and counseling. Local businesses donate services (such as free haircuts) and items (such as clothing, toiletries, and food). Health care providers give basic checkups and tests, and judges from city and county courts provide a “day of amnesty” for those homeless people attending the Stand Down, allowing them to resolve offenses (such as Homeless, Not Criminal j a c k : : s e v e n : : 138 : h o me l e s s i n l a s v e g a s tickets for an open container of alcohol or for loitering) with the penalty reduced or eliminated entirely. This year’s event, the thirteenth annual in Las Vegas, was held at the Cashman Center in the homeless corridor. When I met Jack at the booth for Straight Off the Streets, a local activist homeless organization, he said he was a Marine who had served during Vietnam. I asked Jack how he came to Las Vegas. Throughout our interview he stared directly into my eyes when speaking. “I lost my job in Denver, Colorado, where it’s very cold,” he said. “I lost my home. I was evicted, on the street. I knew that I was going to be homeless in the wintertime, so the only thing I knew about where I was, my location, was to go somewhere where it was warm, where I could survive a winter. So I came down here to the Catholic Charities’ homeless program seven years ago.” He had worked over the years as a laborer and a truck driver. He had a child, but was divorced, and his parents were deceased. “Are you in contact with your family ever, do they know that you’re homeless?” I asked. “No, my family doesn’t know I’m homeless,” he said. We made small talk about the size of the event. I asked him about his experiences while being homeless in Las Vegas. He said he had tried using several local shelters at first, but now slept in a child’s tent near an auto repair shop in the homeless corridor. “I stay there every night,” Jack said, “not in a program, because the program [I want to use] is poor, and I was in it once before. You can’t go back in until the end of the year. “So now I’m on the street, in a tent. I use a facility called the Poverello House, which you can go once a week and do your laundry. I keep my laundry clean and I even wash up in one of the bathrooms, such as the Catholic Charities restroom, because [their] showers are closed for the winter program . I just had a birdbath in a bathroom, so when I can’t take a shower, I do that.” His tent allowed him the freedom to come and go as he pleased, which more restrictive shelters and programs did not. He explained he preferred less restrictive social services in the homeless corridor, such as the Poverello House to do laundry and Catholic Charities’ day shelter in the summer to escape the extreme heat. In my own visits to the Catholic Charities’ dayroom, I had seen dozens...