Longer lines, slimmer hopes

Tiffany Brown

David Miller 34, meets with an employment representative at Nevada Job Connect. He’s been looking for a job for more than a year, since he returned from a long Army National Guard tour in Iraq. A big problem: Many of the jobs he’s qualified for require him to have his own tools, which he lacks.

By Brian Eckhouse (contact)

Sunday, Dec. 7, 2008 | 2 a.m.

Tiffany Brown

People can wait for several hours for the phones and computers available at Nevada JobConnect, the state's employment agency, which has three offices in the valley, in Las Vegas, North Las Vegas and Henderson.

Tiffany Brown

Nguyen Men waits for the phones set aside for unemployment insurance calls at Nevada JobConnect in Las Vegas.

From his second-floor cubicle, Steve Settembre can hear the din of nervous chatter, shuffling feet and the occasional sob downstairs.

These are the sounds of the unemployed.

People in search of work are huddling with counselors at long conference tables in the open expanse downstairs. They learn how to find jobs and what resources are available. It’s a sight — growing in numbers by the day — that drives Setttembre and his two colleagues, Glynn Coleman and De Salazar.

Their challenge: Find as many jobs as they can in the Las Vegas Valley that can be matched by counselors with the unemployed who are turning to JobConnect. It’s a state agency that helps businesses find employees — or, more accurately these days, helps the unemployed find the few precious jobs.

Probably nobody in the valley knows how bad the unemployment picture is here than these three people.

This day, Settembre is hunched over his computer, scrolling through a database of companies that have posted openings at JobConnect over the years. “This one’s going to be a tough one because the industry’s dead,” he says with a sigh. “It’s a company in construction.”

He leans back in his chair, phone pressed against his ear, and smiles, as if he’s about to welcome old friends at a dinner party. He’s greeted by a fast-busy signal. Settembre grunts. The phones at the Las Vegas JobConnect have been in such high demand — job seekers can use them for free — that internal busy signals have been common all week.

He gets through on his next try. He snaps his fingers, pushes back in his chair and smiles broadly. Game face. A woman answers, and they smoothly engage in the conversation they’ve been having for years that has lead to employment for JobConnect clients.

That was then. This conversation has a different tone to it. It’s ominous.

She doesn’t have any jobs, she says, and it won’t look good any time soon. She thought the situation would improve by Election Day, then New Year’s, but now, well, who knows? Hire new people? Heck, they’ve had to let most of their employees go, and those who survived had to take pay cuts. “It’s bad,” she says.

Settembre is hunched over again. There are more people needing jobs at a time when there are fewer jobs available. People used to $50,000 jobs are accepting $30,000 jobs today, further marginalizing potential workers with limited education.

Settembre goes outside to puff a cigarette, glancing briefly at the jobless people who have congregated in the lobby.

A few cubicles over, Salazar is working the phones too, greeting her contacts like old friends. “Hi, it’s De from JobConnect,” she says cheerily to a restaurateur. The person on the line knows exactly who Salazar is, but she too has bad news: We’re not hiring. After some polite chat, the call’s over.

Recruiters used to stuff Salazar’s inbox and voice mail with news of job openings. “The jobs would come to us,” she says. The few who were unemployed had their choice of jobs in an array of fields. Cold calls to human resource specialists were rarely necessary.

Even a year ago, Coleman, Salazar and Settembre routinely nabbed eight openings per company each month. Today, they are lucky to land one or two per month from each of the valley’s major employers.

Three words are written on a dry-erase board affixed to Salazar’s cubicle walls: determination, fortitude and perseverance.

Salazar routinely checks in with Nevada, Henderson and North Las Vegas’ development authorities to see whether any new companies have moved in. She helps organize a monthly summit for the casinos’ human resources staffs to improve the office’s visibility.

Settembre used to spend an hour or two daily communicating with construction companies. Now, he’ll make one or two quick calls a day to them. “I can’t get what’s not there,” he explains. He worries for the people needing work. “I’ve been unemployed and know the frustration of knowing you can do a job and not have a chance to prove it,” he says.

He calls a company that placed potential openings on a job exchange Web site, and asks the boss to describe the company to him. It’s a language school and day-care center, the boss says, and he may need a piano teacher come January. “We’ll send you prescreened applicants — at no costs,” Settembre says crisply. While they talk, Settembre e-mails him two forms to fill out to get the job posted with JobConnect.

Settembre then tries a staffing agency. No openings there. Then he scores a couple of winners: A transport company is losing five drivers to retirement by year’s end, which means there will be two part-time and three full-time jobs to be had, as well as a new mechanic’s position that requires heavy lifting. And an industrial manufacturing company needs laborers with specialized skills, including brick masonry, instrument repair and crane repair.

It seems like a bonanza. There are rare good moments in the day.

Settembre stretches his legs, walking past the railing with the view of the lower lobby, where he hears the sound of unemployment.