Saturday, April 18, 1998 | 2:43 a.m.
Forgive June Rhatigan if she seems paranoid.
The 72-year-old woman lives in Arthur D. Sartini Plaza, a subsidized senior housing complex on Brush Street, and she's worried.
She glances around, wondering if the people who slash tires, mess with the TV cable cord and leave graphic messages on the bulletin board will see her talking with a reporter.
In the old days, she says, Sartini was a friendly place to play gin rummy and sip coffee with friends.
Now Sartini's brick walls feel cold to her as they surround stark, quiet hallways that once were filled with laughter. The sectional couches in front of the big-screen TV in the community room sit empty. Birthday and bingo parties that were once bustling are now barely attended.
The air is so uninviting and tense that some residents are even thinking about moving -- a hard decision when the complex charges only 30 percent of a resident's income.
"I don't want to live here anymore, it's not home anymore," said Hope Smith, an 11-year resident, as though the complex itself is cursed. "But I can't afford to go anywhere else. I don't know who to talk to in the hallways anymore."
Rhatigan and others who live in the complex are using terms like liar and bully to describe some of their neighbors, especially those who are on or support the new resident council which Rhatigan describes as a two-person "dictatorship."
"Someone said I picked my nose and put it in the butter," Rhatigan said, sitting in the dark brown, empty lobby of the complex. "I didn't do that. I'd never do that."
The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development requires that there be tenant participation in public housing through the resident council. The council is not just there to plan birthday parties -- it can screen and select potential residents as well as fine residents for improper behavior.
Sartini's resident council hasn't been the textbook example of how its supposed to work.
In the last year, the elected treasurer was recalled (some say improperly) and because a secretary was never elected and the second vice president resigned, there are now only two members on the board.
"They (the two board members) just make a motion, vote and pass it," said Eloise Cady, a 76-year-old Sartini resident. "They don't let anyone from the floor talk. They tell them to shut up and sit down. Every meeting ends in a yelling match."
A monitor -- required and provided by the city of Las Vegas Housing Authority, which manages the property -- is at every meeting as a way of ensuring things run smoothly and properly.
Residents complain that the monitor hasn't done anything to keep things in order at meetings and has given the OK to the council for taking action without a quorum.
The two board members in question, President Rosemary Hendricks and First Vice President Bruce Pobanz, said they're just doing what the bylaws state and that Cady, Rhatigan and their cronies do nothing but cause trouble at meetings.
Hendricks sounds a lot like Rhatigan when she talks about what she's been through -- slashed tires, death threats and nasty notes about her posted in the complex.
"I plan on stepping down," she said. "It's not worth it. I've had to get an attorney."
Because of the conduct of both sides, residents said, lines have been drawn and the complex has become the battleground for two different factions -- those who support the new board and those who don't. The conflict has led to hostile confrontations and vandalism in the hallways and community rooms that were once places that brought a sense of community to the buildings.
Accusations of stolen license plates, furniture, cable cords and money circulate daily. A sign on the big-screen television gives notice of a $50 service charge for vandalism, a memo posted for residents discusses the "malicious act of vandalism to our community bulletin board" and another memo addressing verbal abuse and profanity shows that the complex isn't a haven of serenity.
Sick of the situation, some of the residents turned to the Housing Authority for help.
"We called, sent letters, everything," said Etta Harris, another resident and former treasurer. "We've gotten no response."
So they looked at their bylaws and launched a petition drive, acquiring 92 signatures asking for an election to recall the board.
The Housing Authority recognized the petition through a letter sent on March 6, disbanding the existing resident council. Plans for an election were set for June 19, and a mediation session to encourage productive discussion was set for March 17 -- but not enough residents showed up to mediate anything.
Four days after the letter announcing the disbanding of the resident council was sent out, another letter from the Housing Authority was distributed saying the first letter was a mistake and the resident council was reinstated.
Allegations that the Housing Authority was ignoring the problems of Sartini are inaccurate, according to Carol Hunter, head of senior services for the authority. She pointed out that a survey was sent to residents and a sounding board meeting was held at the plaza earlier this month.
"The problems are really the same things other places have," Hunter said, pointing out that all other group living situations have similar rifts. "It's a function of a congregational setting."
Hendricks agreed.
"They (the Housing Authority) have tried to do what they can," said Hendricks, adding that the Clark County Neighborhood Justice Department brought in its mediation team, but no one showed up. "The housing people told these women that they have to stop what they're doing."
Some residents contend that the meeting didn't accomplish anything and the survey was distributed just to make it look like the Housing Authority was doing something -- not to mention that the disband/don't disband resident council letters only caused more confusion and animosity among residents.
"He (Frederick Brown, director of the Housing Authority) didn't let anyone from the floor talk," said one resident, who asked not to be named. "He didn't let any grievances be discussed."
Brown, who when hired four years ago said he would be too busy to field questions from reporters except in emergency situations, could not be reached for comment.
Tired of waiting for June elections, some residents wrote a letter to U.S. Department of Housing Secretary Andrew Cuomo in Washington, D.C., and sent it via certified mail. There's been no response yet.
More meetings regarding elections, new officers and the existing board are still being conducted almost daily at the complex. There are letters full of incriminating statements being sent back and forth between Hendricks, the Housing Authority and former members of the board.
But nothing is really being done about the board, its structure and who's on it. Not much can be done, Hunter said, until there are new elections -- an activity that's two months away.
Until then, the bingo games that were once full remain half-empty. The group birthday parties are barely attended by anyone, and the common areas are silent, with few residents chatting. These changes might not mean much to some people, but to the residents of Arthur Sartini, it's completely altered their lives.
In the words of Cady:
"Medicare manor has turned into a penal colony."
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