Selected Memories

"You Can't Go Home Again" is a novel by Thomas Wolfe, but the title is probably more famous than the book itself.  I only quote it because it pertains to a recent trip I made back to Sin City and the scene of 'crimes' as such'; although I'd argue that the only crimes committed were those I committed against myself.

Back in November 2011 when I first started this journal, I had lost nearly all of my possessions, including my camera. That deprived me of the chance to illustrate some of my postings with pictures of some of the neighborhoods and various locations I frequented during my period of homelessness (hm, maybe a better title for this post might have been "You Can't Go Homeless Again").  Unfortunately, I couldn't take pictures inside the Salvation Army headquarters where I spent a lot of time during my rehabilitation, as such.

However, in the picture below you can see the exterior of that building located on Owens Avenue in North Las Vegas. That large building behind the trees houses almost all the SA's operations:  The first floor contains administrative, kitchens, learning centers, recreational and mess areas.  The second and third floors comprise the dorm areas for men and women.  The basement contains laundry and maintenance services.  I spent time in almost every service area on every floor.

While you can see one or two homeless figures in the foreground, there are dozens more located just up the sidewalk.  That's where they hang out waiting for the free daily meals.  I did actually try to snap a few pics of them, but essentially got chased off by a few guys who took exception to my 'invasing their privacy" as they put it.  There were several other stragglers milling about directly across the street from here.  During the late afternoons and evenings that entire sidewalk is often crowded with the homeless and their various accouterments:  Suitcases, bags, trunks, cardboard boxes flattened for sleeping on the sidewalk, and the occasional dog or cat.

Jerry's Nugget Casino, a 50-year fixture of North Las Vegas, is pictured above.  It often served as a place of respite from the SA campus although I'd still see plenty of familiar faces here.  Many guys from SA had hardcore gambling addictions and would come here to play the slots, 21, or place various sports bets.  They would rarely drink here, however; SA always performs Breathalyzer tests upon returning to their property.  If a client tested positive they were temporarily evicted from the dorms and made to spend 24 hours on the streets ... Reason enough for abstinence, imo.

The homeless roam up and down these streets (N. Las Vegas Blvd. is pictured here) 24/7.  It's likely one reason the security personnel in the casino cast a wary eye on anyone who enters the building. Many -- like myself -- visited the place mainly to use their restroom facilities.  Given that many of the indigent tend to use such facilities to bathe or wash their filthy laundry ... well, you get the idea. Needless to say, the whole area is rife with all forms of vice, the most common being drug dealing and prostitution.

The Palomino Club (pictured above) is across the street from Jerry's Nugget and has been world famous since '69 ... what a coincidence.  Another of the area's landmarks.  I was never out late enough to see any of the dancers arrive.  I did see a number of homeless guys camping out in front during the day, though.  Maybe they thought they'd get lucky.

Another view of Owens Ave, facing west.  The SA building is farther up on the left.  A church is just to the right.  Charitable groups often set up stations for free food, water, clothing, etc. adjacent to that building.

It was interesting to return to this area after approximately a year and a half at the Grand Canyon.  This urban area seemed more bleak and barren than I recalled; perhaps it only seemed to because I've grown so accustomed to the open spaces and magnificent vistas of the GC.  But there's a barrenness of spirit here as well, as though this part of Las Vegas has absorbed the desperation and hopelessness of its indigent inhabitants, and reflected it back.  I don't know how it happened but you could call this area a kind of Mecca for the dispossessed; somehow, they all make the pilgrimage here ... and often stay.

That might be thing that affected me most during my brief return visit:  That I saw so many familiar faces still there, going through the same motions and repeating the same behaviors as they had when I last saw them some 18 months ago.  Funny ... I felt something like a conquering hero when I first returned there.  After all, I had departed Vegas on a Greyhound bus with a few hundred dollars to my name.  I returned in my own car, still gainfully employed and doing pretty well (and had a few more hundred dollars to my name, lol).

But that sense of triumph dissolved into a kind of despondence after walking along once familiar sidewalks and streets.  I'm out of harmony with that area, its inhabitants and it attendant lifestyle now -- which is a good thing.  But to see so many people essentially exactly where I had left them after my time away, well, let's say I cut short my visit earlier than I had intended.  Sadly, from what I saw during my sojourn in Sin City, the homeless situation is likely worse, not better.

And Your Humble Narrator?  Much like The Dude, Your Humble Narrator abides.  More pics, reflections and an off-putting encounter coming up ...

... One Year Later

You know those TV shows and movies where the story leads up to a dramatic cliffhanger and the screen blacks out and the legend "One year later ..." appears.  (Alternately, writers use the "24 hours earlier", "One year earlier", etc.)  I've always felt that device is some thing of a cheat.  Like the filmmakers didn't exactly know where to take their story after building it up to a dramatic point; they seem to have decided, "Hell let's skip ahead a year and fill in the details as we go along".

While I think it's something of a cheat and cliche when used in film/TV, wouldn't it be cool if you could use that device in real life?  Magically skip ahead X amount of time to a given point in your life where everything has turned out fine.  I wish I could have done that over the past year.  You see, while you might view Halloween as a time to trick or treat, I'm afraid it marks a bitter anniversary for You Humble Narrator.  It was about a year ago that I became homeless.

Yes, things certainly did build up to a climax:  I succumbed to major depression, lost most of my possessions and money (not to mention my pride), was evicted from my apartment and literally wound up on the streets of Las Vegas with no where to go.  (If you'd like to read my tragic tale in detail, please refer to earlier posts of this blog entitled "HINJFCA"; you'll learn what the clunky acronym stand for.)

During the past year I traveled a path I could have scarcely imagined. I arrived at the Salvation Army of North Las Vegas with less than $100 to my name (if not for the generosity of a cousin I would not have had even that much).  I encountered circumstances and people I had only read about or seen portrayed in the media.  I effectively became part of a shadow society of beggars, drifters, and malcontents.  I sometimes marvel that I didn't simply fall in with many of those who have chosen to take their chances on the streets.

You might not believe how easy it is to make the choice to simply abandon society, cast away responsibility, and lose yourself in the anonymity of the streets.  All it takes is for a person to lose so much that making the effort to regain it isn't worth the effort.  Many have chosen to find comfort in the filth and danger of the streets.

During the past year I was a client in the SA vocational program.  I worked in food service for the first time in my life.  I went to culinary school and learned basic cooking and garde manger (well, sort of).  I made friends with people I would have not long ago deemed as undesirable:  Ex-cons, junkies, thieves of all sorts, hookers, and those with questionable mental stability.  I tried to learn as much as I could from them and about them.  In some ways, I think the process helped me learn about myself:  That I wasn't as fucked up as I feared I was.

Time made events into a kind of blur.  I applied for and was accepted for a job at the Grand Canyon, where I presently live.  I think the change in atmosphere from the urban jungle of Vegas to the rugged landscapes of the GC have acted as a tonic of sorts.  For whatever reason I've felt revitalized since coming here.  The work is somewhat tiresome but it's easy to save money, and I don't feel the day to day pressures of living in a large city. I like many of the people I've met here, especially those from overseas.  The atmosphere is, overall, agreeable.  I actually grew up in a village; now, decades later it seems I have found some degree of peace in another village some 7000+ feet in elevation.

 The experience of the past year has been humbling to say the least. I could never have guessed these events would have taken place in my life.  In some ways this experience has served as a time of re-examination and reassessment.  It has made me appreciate the things I previously took for granted.  In some ways it feels as though I have been broken down piece by piece, atom by atom, into my base elements.  And slowly, piece by piece, atom by atom, I am being reconstructed, re-forged if you will, into something new; hopefully into something better than before.

There are any number of lessons I could take away from this experience.  Here's one:  I guess if you really want to survive, you'll find a way to survive.  Forces unseen will somehow come to assist you if you really want to survive.  I say this because there was a time in the past year where I wasn't sure if I did wanted to go on.  I only wanted everything to go away;  I wanted the pain to go away.  Instead, the pain got worse. But I survived it; I'm still surviving it.  So somehow, at my core I guess I did really want to survive after all.

I'm still here.