Sheltering homeless families in Las Vegas a challenge
A day after arriving in Las Vegas last month, Girlie Bloomquist and her family were living out of their minivan.
The family of eight from Ohio was waiting for a Section 8 housing voucher and initially went to the city of Las Vegas’ courtyard, at Foremaster Lane and Las Vegas Boulevard, where homeless people can sleep in a secure, open-air space.
Courtyard occupants also have access to restrooms and showers, medical and mental health services and housing and employment help.
The family had hoped to be housed temporarily in a hotel, but the courtyard was unable to provide that. There was also no space in surrounding shelters.
Even if they were to be placed in a shelter, there would be another problem: Most shelters separate by gender, and this family insisted on staying together.
Bloomquist said she slept on a blanket in the courtyard’s parking lot, holding her 3-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son. Her fiance, Duane Johnson, slept feet away with their four other kids in their purple 2002 Chrysler Voyager.
Their situation exposes a gap in services for families at the courtyard, which sees two to four families a day, said Kathi Thomas-Gibson, the city’s director of community services.
And about 190 families are waiting for housing in Southern Nevada, she said.
“It’s a challenge for us, because those services are insufficient,” she said. “Oftentimes, the locations that will accept an intact family are full, and oftentimes it means that families choose to stay in their car, rather than get separated.”
Citing privacy concerns, Thomas-Gibson would not comment on the Bloomquist family’s case.
‘I feel rejected’
On Thursday, inside her two-bedroom apartment at Siegel Suites on Martin Luther King Boulevard, Bloomquist answered her ringing cellphone.
The 42-year-old mother nervously pushed back her pink hair as she waited to hear back about a three-bedroom apartment at Sunset Palm Apartments on Doolittle Avenue.
The woman on the other line had to break the news: “I just wanted to call you to let you know that they did deny the application.”
“Even though my whole rent is being paid?” Bloomquist asked, her voice breaking.
She quickly hung up the phone.
“I feel rejected,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes as her 3-year-old daughter brushed her mom’s hair back.
It was another blow to Bloomquist and her blended family, who remained without permanent housing.
Though she has a voucher that covers $1,679 for up to a four-bedroom apartment and up to $250 in utilities a month, Bloomquist suspects her 525 credit score is stopping her from securing an apartment.
Bloomquist said she came to Las Vegas with about $1,300, which will be all but gone by Sunday, when the money for the apartment she’s been renting runs out.
“I’m about to be in the struggle all over again,” she said, adding that she’s almost out of food, gas to take her kids to school and money for a security deposit.
Jocelyn Bluitt-Fisher, community services administrator for the city, said housing policies haven’t kept up with “rapid changes” in the growing homeless population.
“When families with children show up, we’re looking at each other like, ‘OK, all of those facilities are full. What do we do next?’ ” Bluitt-Fisher said.
One initiative that could help address the problem is the Mayor’s Fund for Las Vegas LIFE, which aims to raise private money for city projects, including the homeless courtyard and its services. The fund launched in September.
‘You always sacrifice’
The first night in Las Vegas, a local church put the family up in a hotel. The next night, they slept at the courtyard.
“Babies — on the concrete,” emphasized Duane Johnson, Jr., the 28-year-old son of Bloomquist’s fiance. “My sisters won’t ever be on the streets again.”
In the subsequent days, another church put the family in Texas Station for four days. Bloomquist also paid for them to spend a few days at Circus Circus before the Salvation Army eventually put them in a Siegel Suites apartment for a few weeks.
Once they’ve secured permanent housing, Bloomquist and her fiance plan to look for jobs.
“It ain’t easy. We completely started over. Nobody wants to give me a chance,” she said as three of her kids wrestled around in the small living room.
“You always sacrifice for your babies,” Bloomquist said after preparing hot dogs for dinner. “I’m just in transition.”
Then, her 6-year-old son, Noah, walked up and handed her a carefully drawn picture. He flashed her a smile filled with newly grown-in front teeth.
“This is my mom,” it read. “I love my mom.”
Contact Briana Erickson at berickson@reviewjournal.com or 702-387-5244. Follow @brianarerick on Twitter.
