Thursday, August 14, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

The Literary Issue: Homeless but not bookless

The homeless hit the library to escape the heat--and to read, read, read

By Andrew Kiraly

Bill Gross is no doubt the envy of many a bookworm. He spends his summer days lazing at the library, devouring up to 20 books a week. On this Thursday afternoon, he's diving into Working It Through by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross--you know, the psychiatrist who broke new ground in the area of death and grieving.

"I've always been interested in the philosophy stuff. It just keeps my mind occupied, gives me something to think about," says Gross. "This one's pretty good so far." But he keeps returning to Ronald Hayman's A Life of Jung, which he's read and re-read at least a half-dozen times. "I have problems with retention, so I'm always going back to that one."

Must be nice. But that luxury of time to spend reading is a trade-off: Gross has no job, no money and no home. He's one of scores of homeless men and women who spend their days at the Las Vegas Library on 833 Las Vegas Blvd. reading, surfing the Internet and maybe catching a few winks when the security guard isn't looking. The library, which is close to homeless services downtown, has been a longtime magnet for the down-and-out looking to escape the heat and maybe get some book learnin' in, too. Gross, who most recently lost his job as a pool serviceman after a dispute with his employer, favors psychology and philosophy titles, but others read for the pleasures--the necessity--of escape.

Darric Butler sits in the east wing among the foreign-language magazines; he's polishing off Marvin Gaye, My Brother, the biography by Frankie Gaye. The longtime Gaye fan--whose favorite song is the soul singer's heavy version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine"--has been coming to the library ever since he became homeless about two years ago.

"I got into cocaine," says the soft-spoken Butler. "I lost my job and I lost my mind." The Gaye bio is a departure for Butler, who mostly sticks to psychological thrillers--for perhaps the best reason there is to read them. "I love authors like Dean Koontz and and John Saul," says Butler, who fishes through his bag for a copy of Saul's Brainchild. "Coming to the library's a good way to stay out of the heat, but I think I'd read no matter where I was. It's a good way to keep your mind off your problems, and I've got plenty of those. They don't really hassle you here unless you fall asleep."

Though the security guard does occasionally make the rounds with a can of coconut-scented air freshener, weaving through the tables and spraying generously. The homeless guys smirk at each other and chuckle. That's about the extent of the library's involvement; the district relented years ago after a clash with homeless advocates over whether the homeless should be allowed in the library. The official policy now? As long as they behave, they're welcome.

"Everyone is welcome to the library. We don't make judgments about people," says Nancy Ledeboer, deputy director of the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District. "All we ask is that people follow the patron rules of conduct, and for the most part, the homeless do. Only when there's a health or safety issue--if one of them is bleeding, for instance--or a behavior problem do we take action. But for the most part, they're well-behaved."

The hands-off vibe is appreciated by the roving bookworms who--at least during the day--consider the Las Vegas Library a home. "I'm so glad we have the library. It gives me something to do," says Arthur Sanner, who's only been homeless for about two months. Currently on his reading list? "Right now I'm reading a biography of [World War II Gen.] Terry Allen. He got us out of World War II without a whole lot of casualties. He just went in there and achieved all his objectives, a great guy."

But books aren't the only draw these days. Says Gross as he checks his watch: "Can you hold on a minute? I've got to check my e-mail."