On the brink: Nearly homeless families struggle in Las Vegas Valley

By Timothy Pratt

Monday, March 18, 2002 | 10:57 a.m.

Timmothy Bivins moved his family to Las Vegas almost a year ago, looking for a better job and a better life.

Twice since then Bivins found his family on the verge of homelessness, as government agencies said they couldn't help him because he was working -- even though it was part-time work at low wages.

"I nearly blew up when they said this, since I thought the idea was to help the working poor and prevent homelessness," Timmothy Bivins said.

After being threatened with eviction, the Bivins family has used every assistance program available to stay just a step ahead from becoming homeless. "This is the other side of the glamor associated with Las Vegas," said Christine Brady, community relations officer for the Economic Opportunity Board of Clark County, a nonprofit community development agency.

Although no statistics directly track families like the Bivinses -- pushed to the brink of homelessness by low wages and a lack of affordable housing -- those who work with the poor estimate there are thousands like them in the Las Vegas Valley. Families like the Bivinses are caught with incomes that are high enough to disqualify them for many assistance programs but too low to secure rent.

These are "what I would call the hidden homeless," Gus Ramos, deputy executive director of the Clark County Housing Authority, said.

"These families are doubling up with friends. They're living in motels, shelters or temporary housing. They're paying an inordinate amount of their income for rent."

Those who serve the poor have seen an increase in their number since Sept. 11, Brady said.

"Since the terrorist attacks, with the layoffs and reduced hours, families in our valley are definitely more at risk for homelessness," Brady said. The EOB has seen a 15 percent increase in requests for housing, employment, energy and child-care assistance in the past six months, with an average of 15,000 requests per month since September.

The county's housing programs show a similar pattern.

More than 7,500 families are on waiting lists for the county's Section 8 rental assistance, public housing and affordable housing for seniors programs, Ramos said, and that number has gone up by 1,500 since Sept. 11. In addition, a federally funded program providing emergency rental assistance has kept 400 families of laid-off workers from losing their homes since Sept. 11.

Recommendations made Friday by a regional Homelessness Task Force has brought further attention to the need for affordable housing. Two of the recommendations point to the need for rental assistance and more housing for the poor.

When the gap between income and rent is slim, a single unexpected expense can push a family toward the streets, as it did the Bivinses.

Timmothy and Emma Bivins moved to Las Vegas from Reno with their three children in April 2001.

Bivins worked for a moving company in Reno, but said he had read in the Reno newspaper that good-paying jobs could be found in Las Vegas. They decided to try their luck.

"The paper said that even dishwashers earned $50,000 (a year) here," he said.

Both the EOB report and homeless advocates say that the image of Las Vegas nationally is one of a series of factors that bring families here. But once the families arrive they find themselves struggling to keep a roof over their heads. "The image that things are booming here brings families from all over," said Linda Lera-Randle El, director of Straight from the Streets, a nonprofit outreach program for the homeless.

"When they get here, there's just not enough high-paying jobs or affordable housing to go around," she said.

The Bivinses tried to create their own jobs by starting a window washing business in August while living in a Las Vegas motel.

"We would leave the motel with bikes, squeegees and buckets, while our 11-year-old son would watch the little ones," Timmothy Bivins said.

Their clients included law offices and stores downtown. Things were looking up after a few weeks. A little more than a month into their new business, the bottom fell out.

"When 9/11 happened, it was like someone unzipped everything," he said.

Their weekly take went from close to $1,000 to $100. Bivins got some work doing moving jobs on the side.

Then, Bivins' 3-year-old son from a previous marriage, who lived in Springfield, Ill, got sick with a genetic disorder affecting his brain.

"I wanted to visit him, but I was just trying to keep a roof over our heads here in Las Vegas," Bivins said.

The boy died Dec. 26.

"I decided I had to go to the funeral," Bivins said.

By that time the family had an apartment with a $550 monthly rent. They were one month behind.

On Jan. 2 Bivins returned to Las Vegas and his financial problems.

"I went to the apartment manager and told her about my situation. I showed her the picture of my 3-year-old and everything. She said, 'I'm sorry, I'm going to have to evict you.' "

Bivins sought emergency rental assistance at Clark County Social Services, where he was told, "Unfortunately, you're working."

Bertha Warrick, assistant director at the Clark County Department of Social Services, said that funds for the working poor were also affected by Sept. 11.

"Unfortunately, help for the working poor is limited, and it is only released by the federal government sporadically. After September funds that normally would have lasted until the following year were already gone by December," she said.

An official at the agency told Bivins that if he had less income he could apply for Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or welfare. That would make him eligible for rental assistance.

"I really didn't want to go on welfare, but I decided to do it," Bivins said.

He then went back to the apartment manager, who said she couldn't wait the three weeks to a month it would take for the rental assistance to become available.

On Jan. 25 Bivins sought the assistance of Straight from the Streets. It was a tough case, because it was late on a Friday, after most social service agencies were closed, Lera Randle-El said.

Fewer than two dozen beds are available in shelters to families on an emergency basis in the entire county, Ruth Bruland, executive director of the MASH shelter, said. MASH turns away about a dozen families per week for lack of room in its temporary housing, Bruland said.

Straight from the Streets found a space for the Bivinses in the Ashley House, a 30-day emergency housing program created by the EOB in partnership with Metro Police's homeless task force.

On Feb. 27, two days before they were headed to the streets again, the EOB found space for the family in one of nine houses with subsidized rents for families who are homeless or on the verge of homelessness.

The uncertainty takes a toll. "It gets hard being strong," Bivins said.

Now Bivins works part time as a messenger for a law office at $5.15 an hour and hopes that as the weather warms, the window-washing business will pick up.

The five family members make do with a one-bedroom apartment.

"But you know what?" Bivins said. "It's a roof over our head."