“You see them on Sixth Avenue,” says Lt. Jeff Inorio of the South Tucson Police Department. “They’re on bus benches, or milling around; panhandling, trying to get by somehow, or going to social services. You see them all over.”
With a wide array of social services, soup kitchens, shelters and rehabilitation centers, South Tucson remains a mecca for Arizona’s homeless.
According to Inorio, these social services are the reason that the homeless flock to South Tucson. “We have two populations of homeless here,” he says. “There are those who keep to themselves, stay out of trouble and obey the law; and there are others with addiction problems.”
The growing homeless problem in South Tucson can be a nuisance for residents, with garbage buildup within the community from the transient population; as well as what Inorio refers to as typical homeless crimes: Drinking in public, shoplifting, and panhandling. According to Inorio, it’s become a big tax on the city’s resources.
That burden is so great that Pima County agreed this summer to offset $1.4 million in delinquent jail costs attributed to the number of homeless persons traveling through the community. With the majority of the county’s rehabilitation centers and social service programs attracting the county’s homeless population, according to Enrique Serna, South Tucson’s City Manager, the city had been paying more than its fair share.
There are an estimated 5,000 homeless in the city of Tucson, according to Tamar McElwee, who’s worked with the Salvation Army in Tucson for the past nine years.
The Salvation Army runs the Adult Rehabilitation Center in South Tucson, which helps homeless people with addiction problems. There’s also a shelter for homeless people who come voluntarily, as well as housing and treatment for those who have been ordered by the court to stay. According to McElwee, the center and homeless shelter are always full.
“We make sure that people come into a safe environment,” she says. “If someone comes in drunk or intoxicated, we’ll call other social services agencies to take care of that.”
The Salvation Army has a great referral system, according to McElwee. With open communication between the Salvation Army, the Jackson Employment Agency and various rehabilitation agencies in the community, McElwee is confident that if the Salvation Army can’t help, it can refer the homeless to people who can.
“Some of the homeless in [South Tucson] are mentally ill,” she says. “Some want to be homeless. But some are honest, hard-working people who fell on hard times, and we’re there when they hit rock-bottom, too proud to come for help until it was too late. We help them back up.”
Another option for the homeless is the Gospel Rescue Mission, which runs a men’s shelter in on West 28th Street in South Tucson, and a women’s shelter on Miracle Mile in northern Tucson. Men can stay at the Mission for four consecutive days, or longer if they’re willing to work for their stay by way of landscaping, cooking, laundry, maintenance and other chores.
The shelters have approximately 102 beds each, with an average of 126 people staying per night. According to Roy Tulgren, the Mission’s executive director and pastor, floormats are rolled out when the beds are filled.
A person’s stay at the Mission can be extended for 90 to 120 days while guests look for jobs. The Mission also helps parolees with no place else to go as they search for jobs and try to get back on their feet.
“About 600 out of 5,000 homeless people get shelter at Tucson’s shelters,” Tulgren says. “There’s still a huge need that goes un-met.”
Bill, who has been homeless for the past several years, knows that. He moved to Tucson with the promise of work. That work was never to be found, and Bill drifted to South Tucson when he ran out of money.
At 50, his skin’s been tanned and parched by the Arizona sun, and all but a few of his teeth have been left behind in his travels. He takes advantage of any opportunity the city will give him.
“Phoenix does nothing for its homeless,” he says. Bill declined to give his last name, fearing unwanted attention on the streets. “But here, there’s no reason for the homeless to be filthy, have dirty clothes or to go unfed.”
Bill tries to get into a shelter every night to have a shower, a meal and a fresh set of clothes. It will be two days before he can get into another shelter for the night. He hopes for his next stay to be at Primavera Men’s Shelter on East Benson Highway. There, he’ll be able to stay for 90 days, search for a job and save his money.
Bill’s a certified welder, with training in carpentry and mechanics. “Some people are out here by choice,” he says, “I’m a skilled laborer, I have a valid driver’s license, and I can’t find work. If someone were willing to offer me a real job, I’d take anything.”
