It’s early June, and the suffocating mid-summer heat hasn’t yet consumed the valley like an angry, perpetually plugged-in blow dryer. It’s warm, but bearable. At least, for those who can gain reprieve from the moderately high temperatures.
But for people who live on the streets of Las Vegas, summer can be deadly. WestCare Nevada employee Rick Denton has seen what the heat can do to those living in the tunnels, on sidewalks or camping in empty lots.
“It’s definitely a concern, and it’s something we try to address when we do our outreach,” he said.
Denton leads the WestCare Vivo team, a group designed to help homeless veterans get into permanent housing. According to
Denton, the team’s outreach targets chronically homeless veterans who have been dismissed from military service with other than an honorable discharge. Most of these men and women are struggling with both substance abuse and mental health problems.
The team is often going into homeless encampments and tracking down specific leads and individuals.
On this particular day, the team is looking for a man named Thomas.
Denton and his team members, Michael Thwing, LeslieAnn Farrell and Luther Kendrick load into their white van and start scrolling through details about the client on a smart tablet. Kendrick holds up the tablet and shows the team a photo of the man they’re looking for.
“We rarely get a photo,” he said. “Today is going to be a good day.”
The program, which began outreach in September 2015, has been successful in helping 35 people overcome addiction and get off of the streets. According to Denton, many of the team’s clients come through referrals from Clark County Social Services. Others are found in the field. While outreach is a primary responsibility for the team, the program does much more than just identify those who need help. The program provides supportive bridge housing which leads to permanent housing.
“The first step is often to get them triaged and sober,” Denton said. “Once we’re treating their addiction, we can try to get them into housing. This is a housing first initiative, so if someone refuses services to get clean, we will still try to help them get housing. But, of course, we try to persuade them to get clean.”
Yury Zverev is an artist who spent more than seven years on the streets. When the Vivo team found him in February, he had already decided that something in his life needed to change.
“I was ready for help,” he said. “I had an alcohol problem but I was ready to accept that something was wrong in the way I was living, and everything about my life reflected that. I wanted to stop destroying myself.”
Zverev, who emigrated from Russia 11 years ago, said that after working with Denton and his team, he was able to get documentation he’d been missing for years, and was offered the apartment where he now lives.
“It’s a completely new existence,” he said. “I’m just like a normal man now.”
Still, the quiet and solitude have taken some getting used to,
according to Zverev.
“I’ve literally slept on the street. I’ve eaten food from garbage bins. I was a drunk, a nothing,” he laments. “Now, I spend my days painting for the first time in over a decade.”
Zverev said that he strongly believes a higher power sent the Vivo team to help him change his ways.
“I’m happy,” he said, pointing at the landscape painting he’s working on. “I have hope for the first time in a long time.”
Often times, finding the pre-identified client can be a difficult task. It’s just after 10 a.m. and the team is walking through a shrub covered alleyway near Tropicana Avenue and Paradise Road in an attempt to speak to two people they just saw duck behind a concrete wall.
“This was the area where Thomas was last seen,” said Farrell.
“So it’s a lot of running down leads.”
Team members question the couple who say that they’ve been camped out in the area for at least a month, and insist they’ve never heard of or seen Thomas. The team isn’t convinced that’s entirely true, and Farrell starts to walk towards the fence surrounding the adjacent property where the couple’s camp rests.
She can see a man in a ball cap sleeping beneath a tree.
“It’s hard to tell from a distance but that hat looks like the one
in our photo,” she mumbles.
According to Denton, many homeless people are wary of outsiders, and don’t often give accurate information in the search for one of their own.
“They have it rough and they’ve learned how to cope and adapt on the streets,”
he said. “Part of that is
trusting nobody.”
Farrell yells to the man behind the fence, asking if his name is Thomas. His head pops up, and he affirms that he is Thomas. With almost no convincing, he walks around the fence to talk with Farrell and Thwing. Thomas is a heroin addict, and he tells the pair he’s ready to get help — just not today.
“We can come back another day,” Farrell tells him. “We’d like to help you get clean and get into housing.”
Thomas said he understands, and that if the team will come back the following morning, he’ll be ready to go. Farrell tells him they will be back at 9 a.m., and he agrees to meet them by the concrete wall to be taken to detox.
“It’s never this easy,” Thwing said. “Finding someone this quickly is very rare.”
The team high-fives on the way back to the van. They can’t believe their luck. The mood is high, and the group can’t wait to make their next contact. Approximately five miles away and just a few minutes later, the team is traversing the rocky terrain leading down to one mouth of the tunnels that lie beneath the city. They’ve heard that another homeless vet has been camped in the area, and they’re committed to finding him no matter what it takes.
The man they’re looking for is nowhere to be found, but the team does come across a young couple, both under 21 years old, both addicted to meth and heroin, who have lived in the tunnels for four years. Denton convinces the couple to join the team just outside the tunnel, the afternoon sun beating down on them as the young woman prances, rubbing her arms incessantly. The young man listens to the options that are available to them. He seems more agreeable to the idea than the woman, who is friendly but easily agitated by any mention of sobriety.
Suddenly, a Pepsi can is hurled from the walkway above the basin, exploding as it lands only feet from where Denton is standing. The teen boy who threw it is cursing and screaming, asking if the team is jumping his friend. The team reacts instantly, trying to calm the boy, reassuring him that they’re attempting to help the couple.
“Just relax,” Denton projects. “We’re trying to get them housing.”
The boy calms down, and makes his way down into the basin where he apologizes, and proceeds to pick up the can and sip the remaining soda from the shredded metal.
“There’s been some weird stuff happening around here, man,” he said before disappearing into the tunnels.
“You can’t be too careful.”
The team returns to the van, still in good spirits. Kendrick reveals that the couple has agreed to come to a WestCare facility later that day and explore the options for potential housing. But he’s not convinced that the woman is ready to get clean.
“The guy might be ready, but I don’t think he will come without her, and she is not ready to give up her addiction,” he said. “We can hope, but we also know what being done looks like. This isn’t it. There’s a lot more to do today, lots more outreach and visits to make. Overall this hasn’t been a bad morning. I think we will call these two visits a win.”