As Tent City Falls, County Affirms Policy

As the Civic Center’s temporary tent city was being cleared out Wednesday and about 300 homeless people were returning to the streets, the county Board of Supervisors rejected a request to rewrite a welfare policy that, advocates for the homeless claim, is putting thousands out on the streets each month.

With about 80 street people in the audience, two conservative board members blocked a motion by liberal supervisors Ed Edelman and Kenneth Hahn. The liberals wanted to re-evaluate a policy that triggers a two-month cutoff of general relief assistance for able-bodied indigents who fail to meet requirements, such as looking for work, attending job training and participating in work projects.

The board did, however, approve both a plan to identify vacant public buildings that could be used for short-term temporary housing and a recommendation to seek bids from private nonprofit agencies to operate shelters for the homeless.

Thirteen street people were arrested Wednesday evening when they refused to leave the County Hall of Administration, where they had staged a six-hour sit-in in protest of the supervisors’ rejection of their request.

The growing criticism of the welfare policy and of the county’s use of dingy downtown hotels that repeatedly violate health and safety codes to provide emergency housing has moved the supervisors squarely into the spotlight of the growing public debate over the plight of the county’s estimated 30,000 to 50,000 homeless. That plight was dramatized by the tent city that rose in the shadow of City Hall for 14 days over the holidays.

‘Vicious Criminals’ Housed

Nancy Mintie, director of the Inner City Law Center, told the board that the 60-day penalty, which she described as “barbarous,” is often applied for minor infractions of the rules, such as filing forms late. She said the penalty puts 2,500 people a month out on the streets.

“The human misery caused by this one regulation is incalculable,” she said. “No one, no matter what they do, deserves to be homeless. . . . Even the most vicious criminals” are given housing by the state.

Indirect costs of services resulting from the policy, such as health care in county hospitals for those who become sick on the streets, are probably greater than the expense of providing additional housing assistance, Mintie said.

Edelman said there “has to be a better system” and called for a study to see if “something less severe” can be found to encourage general relief recipients to show up for work and job training.

Mintie suggested that assistance be reduced, rather than cut off, when recipients miss a day of work.

In a 2-2 vote deadlock, Supervisors Michael Antonovich and Deane Dana opposed the study. The fifth supervisor, Pete Schabarum, was absent.

Antonovich, citing a staff estimate that elimination of the 60-day penalty could boost welfare costs by $12 million to $16 million a year, said the county would have to cut other services, such as law enforcement and fire protection.

He said the problems of the homeless involve such state and national issues as the release of mental patients who cannot care for themselves. “Overall, we’re doing a good job. You can always do better,” he said. He added that penalties are needed because “those who are abusing the system are taking valuable resources from those who need help.”

Eddy Tanaka, director of the Department of Public Social Services, noted that other counties have more severe penalties. Orange County, for example, cuts off benefits for three months for the first failure to comply with eligibility rules, and six months for the second occurrence. He warned that further liberalizing the Los Angeles policy could attract more indigents.

Under the current policy, Tanaka said, the number of applicants for emergency housing assistance--about 3,700 a month--has nearly doubled since January. The program costs $5.4 million a year.

Although his comments were sharply disputed by Mintie, Tanaka said there are procedures to protect the interests of the general relief applicants. Still, he was instructed to investigate about 35 cases that Mintie claimed demonstrate improper use of the policy. One recipient lost housing aid because he was hospitalized and missed a welfare office appointment, and others have been denied assistance for providing illegible information on forms and failing to understand instructions, Mintie said.

Dragged to Lobby

After the vote, the street people gathered outside the meeting room and condemned the board’s action. “They dumped us in there,” said Harry Rodgers, a worker with the Homeless Organizing Team, which sponsored the tent city.

About a dozen returned to the board room as the meeting was ending, chanted “All We Are Saying is Give Us a Home” and vowed to camp out until they are arrested or until the 60-day penalty policy is suspended. After about two hours, several of the demonstrators who remained were dragged by sheriff’s deputies to the lobby of the building, where they were allowed to remain until evening.

They bound themselves together and refused to leave when the building was closed at 6 p.m. Rolph Mayer, a volunteer with the Homeless Organizing Team, said he advised the demonstrators that they might face six-month sentences for trespassing. About half the protesters had lost their benefits under the 60-day penalty, Mayer said.

Mayer said the demonstrators were willing to go to jail “if it’s for a good cause. Jail is better than the streets. You get something to eat and it’s warm.”

Shortly after 6 p.m., Los Angeles police arrested 13 protesters and escorted them out of the building under the glare of television cameras while a handful of street people clapped and cheered. The 12 men and one woman were booked at the Parker Center on suspicion of trespassing.

Meanwhile, at the tent city, which was to have been torn down last week but which was given an extension until Wednesday, the mood was somber and confused as people packed their belongings.

Organizers said publicity about the effort resulted in offers of jobs and housing for about 30 of the tent dwellers, but many of the others milled around hoping for another last-minute extension. Several said they did not know where they would go.

Mary Lou Mendoza, 26, said she worried about returning to sleeping on the streets. She felt safer in the tent city, she said.