Closed tent leaves only street for refuge

Jeffrey Libby

Thursday, Oct. 25, 2001 | 9:50 a.m.

An out-of-work landscaper swept the curb in front of his cardboard bedding as another homeless man, who wore socks but no shoes, relieved himself against a block wall while vehicles passed by on Main Street.

It was about 2 in the afternoon. A dozen other homeless people had lined up on Foremaster Lane behind a spotless sedan while two women from the Gateway to Heaven Balzar Church ladled spaghetti -- from pots in the trunk of the car -- onto paper plates.

For about a week some 150 homeless men and women, for the most part jobless, have gathered on this street corner between American Burial and Cremation Services and Palm Mortuary's Building of Eternity.

The "residents" hang blankets and foam padding from the barbed wire fence outside an abandoned auto shop.

They sit most of the day and night across the street from a 250-bed tent shelter -- which is closed despite cooler weather -- as city and county officials debate how to best allocate funding.

They had been gathering outside the tent shelter but complaints led police to force them across the street. Before that, in July, police flushed them from a railroad encampment. Signs have since been posted outside MASH Village -- a homeless services provider -- that inform the homeless they are prohibited from sleeping on the west side of the Main Street sidewalk. Security guards patrol outside the shelter at night, homeless people say.

They also say that when they sleep a few blocks south in the tourist-thick downtown along Fremont Street, Metro Police often cite them for impeding pedestrian traffic before sending them back to the encampment.

"Out-of-sight, out-of-mind, that's what the desk sergeant told me," said a man who wanted to be identified only as Larry. "They can't have this blight interfering with the city image and still attract tourists."

One homeless man wanted to know why "Wayne Newton and those politicians" didn't use funding to open the tent rather than hide the money away.

The tent is normally open through the coldest winter months.

Another man, who lost his masonry job after spending a month in jail in connection with a barroom brawl, said he missed going home at the end of the day and watching television as his wife made dinner.

Others said they were impressed by some of the services offered just a short walk away.

Richard Eaton, who last week lost his job as a maintenance man for three downtown motels, said he had eaten more in the past five days than he had while he was working.

Coffee and doughnuts arrive at 6 a.m., he said. Lunch at the Salvation Army starts at 10:30 a.m., a few blocks away. Showers are available across the street at Shade Tree, a woman's shelter, and at the Salvation Army. Bathrooms at the St. Vincent Shelter are open 24 hours.

But Eaton, 44, who was wearing a pair of winter gloves clipped to a thick leather belt, said he heard that job opportunities and homeless facilities in Salt Lake City were better than those in Las Vegas. He said he planned to hitch a ride on a freight train headed there.

He was taking one keepsake -- a pewter-framed photograph of three of his 12 children -- Tommy, Amber and Tiona, ages 8, 11, and 4.