Wearable Jesus

Three homeless guys plan to make it big with spiritual T-shirts

By Andrew Kiraly

Next week--provided you're willing to wend your way to the back of the Rancho Swap Meet--you'll be able to purchase a Las Vegas novelty T-shirt that is, well, truly novel. Marrying spirit and spunk, the T-shirt says "Jesus Loves Las Vegas." It'll be sold by a few enterprising men who either are or were homeless. And while these three wise men didn't exactly have to endure the tribulations of Christ, they did have to do battle with the hardships of homelessness, bad business deals and the unique trouble of founding a company without a roof over their heads. Call Lenworth Smith, Tony Will and Cedric Sha- bazz entrepreneurs driven by God, men who spin a tale of spiritual brotherhood and capitalist drive.

"Jesus really does love Las Vegas," says Shabazz. "And you put that on a shirt, people love it. It's controversial. It grabs your attention."

As Shabazz tells it on a recent afternoon on a public bench downtown--where the "mobile entrepreneur" makes his haunt--the three men began running into one another at various homeless shelters in early 2003. They were all living on the streets, and life's hardships had made them seek a holier life. Shabazz, a former comic book publisher in Oakland, was battling the demons of alcohol abuse. He'd been homeless since February 2002. "I was living an unholy life," he says. "I was into alcohol, doing a lot of gambling." Will says he'd turned his back on a regular job and his family to follow God's will to have him minister; Smith, who did not return phone calls, found himself there for some of the same reasons. Praying and praising together after they ran into each other at Catholic Charities, they did some Bible-inspired brainstorming to come up with an idea that might not only save them from homelessness, but save a few souls as well.

"God put us together one night," Shabazz says. "The Lord put it in our heart to build an inspirational merchandise and entertainment company." But what about food and shelter? "It was a spiritual thing. We never worried where food would come from or where we'd lay our head at."

"We talked about the different visions God had given us," Will says. "What they all had in common was they were businesses to finance ministry, fund the building of churches and homes for people."

They sat on a couch in an arcade in Neonopolis and brainstormed feverishly. Concepts came, but no product. Until, Shabazz says, one morning Smith reported that he'd had a dream. "The Lord appeared to him with two treasure chests," Shabazz says. "One was filled with gold, the other had a 'Jesus Loves Las Vegas' T-shirt inside. When he told me that, I felt a spiritual shake. I knew this would be big."

Just a couple of hurdles: no homes and empty pockets. Shabazz set out to work as a day laborer, slowly shoring up cash. Smith worked on securing a possible investor. Will, dealing with family issues, eventually lost touch with his "godbrothers." By late 2003, they had a decent chunk of start-up money, and in January Shabazz says they had landed an investor, Juliani Suarez, a local businessman. By April, they'd managed to print 500 T-shirts, selling them at a table at St. Louis Boulevard and Maryland Parkway. They sold about 50 and gave 50 away to hype the spiritual shirt. However, the arrangement soon soured; Shabazz says Suarez had promised them an investment of $10,000 in exchange for 30 percent of the company, but delivered only $1,300. Shabazz and his crew balked and Suarez eventually pulled out.

"I've spent 20 years in the entertainment business," say Shabazz, referring to his former life in Oakland as a comic publisher, among other things. "Seven of the eight businesses I've been in have failed. I never want an investor to control me again. We're determined to finance this project personally."

"The only conflict I have is that I haven't been paid back," Suarez says. "Otherwise, I'm zeroed out of the whole deal." He declined further comment.

With that false start behind them, they set back to work. Shabazz has since found another company to print the shirts--Suarez, he says, still has the other 400--and is hoping that with their modest space at the Rancho Swap Meet, the T-shirts will prove to be at least as controversial and popular as the Shroud of Turin. A deal with a few Strip kiosk vendors failed to materialize, but Shabazz says a major novelty company might be interested in taking on the T-shirts, whose slogan is copyrighted, he mentions. Not that they want to keep all the loot for themselves. Spreading a message is the prime goal.

"It conveys a message of people looking for something, who want the peace and joy that only God can bring," Will says. "I've lived in this town for 20 years and I've tried all the avenues this town has to offer, and I didn't have any peace and joy until I tried God." Hopefully, others will try, too--and try on a "Jesus Loves Las Vegas" T-shirt.