Agencies begin helping homeless people in camp

By Timothy Pratt

Tuesday, Jan. 11, 2005 | 11:03 a.m.

Rafael Montalvo, whose State of California identification said he was born in 1941, stood finishing off an apple, surrounded by sleeping bags and tents under a bridge by Wilson Avenue and F Street.

It was Monday about noon, and Montalvo said a job at an oil refinery in Libya was all he needed to get him off the streets of Las Vegas -- though he was waiting to get a Clark County voucher for temporary housing in the meantime.

The only problem: Montalvo, whose rambling description of 10 years without a roof over his head was nearly impossible to follow, will most likely not get helped by a Las Vegas-led effort this week to move more than 100 people from a camp under the bridge into housing.

Particularly since Montalvo thought he needed to wait under the bridge for help. In fact, temporary offices run out of a trailer around the corner from the bridge were mobbed most of Monday by those who had the wherewithal to fill out forms and wait for a number to be called.

The effort, which includes six public and private agencies, comes after months of controversy surrounding the camp, located behind and to the west of the Las Vegas Rescue Mission. The Clark County Health District declared the camp a health hazard in August.

Still, Monday, the first day of the five-day project, saw a happy face or two, including that of Lauri Dewey, a 42-year-old woman who has been sleeping under the bridge for four months and got a voucher -- the most sought-after item among the six public and private agencies cramped into the trailer.

About 1:30 p.m., when she was told she was receiving two months of free housing at Desert Breeze apartments, she hugged a fellow camper and went into one of the five cramped rooms in the trailer to pick out clothing from mounds of donated shirts and pants.

She said a seizure she had on the streets about a month and a half ago was "a wake-up call," and that getting the vouchers was "a big thing."

And though she walked down Bonanza Road from the mission to the apartments only to find she lacked paperwork, by 4 p.m. she was on her way back to the warmth of a free room.

Then there were those like Alfonso, who didn't want to give his last name. He said he went to the trailer and was told he could not be helped since he didn't have Nevada identification.

Neither did many of the approximately 30 other Hispanics who had been sleeping under the bridge, so they probably wouldn't be helped either, Alfonso said.

Four others crowded around to say they didn't even go to the trailer because they didn't speak English and no one at the trailer spoke Spanish.

"We don't want a hand-out," Alfonso, who like the others said he sought day labor most days at Bonanza Road and Rancho Drive nearby. "All we want is work so we can find a place to live," he said.

David Riggleman, spokesman for Las Vegas, said "no one with immigration issues came forward" during the day.

Nam -- another who only offered his first name -- came to the trailer seeking help with housing, taking advantage of a day off from a job he got from a temporary labor office.

After discovering about 3 p.m., when the trailer was shutting down for the day, that he -- along with dozens of others -- wouldn't be seen until Tuesday or later, he wondered how he would make it back without losing his job.

"You got to lose something to get something," he said.

Maurice Silva, who runs a state outreach team of mental health caseworkers that set up shop in the trailer, noted that he received few visitors in the course of the day.

Riggleman said Silva's team interviewed four people. Monday's effort also resulted in 22 people being set up with housing and 17 walking away with food, clothing and bus tokens, Riggleman said.

Silva wondered aloud about follow-up, and what would happen to those who got into the short-term housing but had mental illnesses or addictions, or, to those like Montalvo who might not even get it together to obtain the temporary help.

"Mental illness plays a big part in this," Silva said.

"These people are some of the most resistant to services, and if you don't take them by the hand, including follow-up, it's not going to help.

"They'll be back on the streets in a month or two," he said.

Shortly after 3 p.m., Marcellus Hicks, 49, filed out of the trailer, ending a day's wait that began at 7:30 a.m.

Hicks would have to return Tuesday to continue his search for a voucher, denied him months earlier because a part-time job put him over an income limit.

"I guess I'll go set up my tent again tonight," he said, headed for the bridge.