Home at last

Martin Kuz

Monday, May 24, 1999 | 11:15 a.m.

The squeals of excitement were sweet music to Ron and Ginger Diltz. The couple had brought their five children to look at the new apartment where the family soon would live. As her siblings dashed from room to room, 15-year-old Nicole, the oldest of the bunch, pirouetted in the kitchen.

"She walked in, looked around with these big ol' eyes and said, 'Daddy, we're rich!' " Ron Diltz recalled.

No, the family hasn't won Megabucks. But after nine months of living at the MASH Village homeless center, moving into a three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment has the Diltzes feeling like they've hit the housing jackpot.

"Boy, I tell you what, this place was a real godsend," Ron Diltz said, strolling into the master bedroom. "It's real awesome just to take a bath or get up in the middle of the night to fix a snack. I can have a cigarette at midnight if I want."

The Diltzes went without those little freedoms within the constrained environs of MASH, where they lived from August until earlier this month -- despite Ron and Ginger both holding down full-time jobs.

The Sun chronicled the couple's ordeal in March in a story about the working homeless, a sizable demographic that remains overlooked across the country and in Clark County. The Southern Nevada Homeless Coalition estimates that nearly one-fifth of the 12,000 to 18,000 homeless people in the Las Vegas Valley hold part- or full-time jobs.

The presence of as many as 3,600 workers in the local labor force who lack permanent shelter counters the stereotype of the homeless as habitual do-nothings. SNHC Chairman Brian Brooks told the Sun in March that "most people don't realize that the homeless want to work. They think they just want to leech off society. That's not true."

The story caught the attention of Earl White, a housing coordinator with RPS Corp. The for-profit company provides affordable housing nationwide through joint ventures with local and state governments, as well as the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development. RPS owns more than 600 apartment units in Las Vegas and North Las Vegas.

White tracked down Ron Diltz at MASH in March and asked if he wanted to tour the brand-new Judith Villas, an apartment complex located near Carey Avenue and I-15 next to Quannah McCall Elementary School.

The RPS property offers units starting at $494 a month. More importantly, the company leases to people who may have spotty credit histories, lack a sterling rental record or simply have stumbled upon hard times.

"They're like a lot of people -- they're hard-working people who just need someone to give them a hand to help them out," White said of the Diltzes. "When people are struggling to keep things together -- keep their family together, their lives together, their spirits together -- you want to be able to help out."

The Diltzes needed that lift after coming to Las Vegas with too little money and, by their own admission, too little planning.

The family moved to Nevada last summer after the security company Ron worked for in Oklahoma closed and transferred him here. The couple arrived with a mere $300 in savings and scarce knowledge of Las Vegas, but anticipated they would quickly find public housing as they had in Oklahoma City.

When the Diltzes learned from the Clark County Housing Authority that the wait for an apartment was at least a year, they enrolled in MASH's transitional living program. The couple envisioned their stay lasting a few weeks.

Months passed and the Diltzes went nowhere. Both were working -- Ron earns $6.25 an hour as a security officer, while at the time of the Sun's story Ginger made $6.50 an hour as a keno runner at the Fremont hotel.

But their combined income still left them unable to afford a place of their own. The average monthly rental rate for apartments in Clark County hovers at $660, according to the UNLV Center for Business and Economic Research.

Add to that steep price skittish landlords unwilling to take a chance on tenants who might be less than a sure thing, and the Diltzes were stuck. As Ron worked his late-night shift patrolling a trailer park, he often muttered to himself, "Oh, God, why did I ever move to Las Vegas?"

MASH helped keep the family from bobbing under. The center's transitional living program holds 300 residents who can stay for a maximum of two years, paying 30 percent of their income as "rent." Of the 33 families that entered the program last year, 30 eventually moved into permanent housing, case management supervisor Amy Fowle said.

"(Ron) just kept the right attitude -- the guy has a lot of energy. Amid the stress, (the Diltzes) absolutely stayed focused and that makes the biggest difference," she said.

The couple's perseverance paid off when White called. The new apartment rents for $698 a month and has given the family a fresh start -- and plenty of space for the kids to unleash their energy.

"I like the dishwasher," 5-year-old Michael Diltz said as he wheeled his bike outside. "We didn't have one before."

His older sister, Lisa, 11, chimed in, "I like it here because I can watch TV and cook and go outside when I want."

The family has received more good news in recent weeks. Last month Ginger, 35, landed a job with a food delivery service; with regular wages and bonuses, she now earns almost $10 an hour.

Ron, 33, is interviewing for a security job at the Bellagio hotel, a position that would pay him $9.75 an hour and offer full health benefits. Elaine Wynn, wife of Steve Wynn -- head of Mirage Resorts Inc., which includes the Bellagio -- helped arrange the interview after getting wind of the Sun's story, Diltz said.

Aside from a TV set, the kids' toys and a few piles of clothes, the Diltzes' new home remains barren. The family had to leave their furniture in storage back in Oklahoma City, and they don't have enough money to retrieve it. Even so, Ron said, he's smiling a whole lot more these days.

"There were quite a few times when I thought we might end up staying the full two years (at MASH) or go back to Oklahoma City or Mississippi -- Ginger's mom and dad live there," Ron said. "But we hung in there."

Good thing, too.

"I didn't want to live with in-laws," Diltz said with a laugh. "Nothing against them -- we just wanted our own place to call home."