Sunday, December 4, 2011

Downtown dilemma: Life on the street


Editor’s note: Freelance writer Courtney Nelson interviewed several people who are living on the streets about their lives and their drinking habits for this first-person article. We are using only their first names.

Juneau’s chronic inebriates live in a complex sub-culture. Like many homeless people, they were hanging on until some event forced them into the street. Their situation is further complicated by their heavy dependence on alcohol. In many cases theirs are stories of generational alcohol abuse. In many cases, a new generation is being born on the street.

Emily
I met Emily, 27, sitting on the spot where she sometimes sleeps in Marine Park. She was holding a pair of wool socks someone gave her because hers were stolen off her feet while she slept. Emily described a typical night.
“If I don’t have a place to crash I start walking around at 3 a.m. and if I get lucky, and it’s a weekend, I can find someone to hang out with. We are all kind of on the buddy system here.” She drinks and walks to stay warm.
Emily has three children, ages 4, 6 and 7. Emily met the father of her children the first time she was homeless in 2002. As of early November, she was looking for housing so she could keep them from going into foster care.
She quit drinking for a while, but says losing her sister to lupus last year was a shattering experience, and she started again. When she tries to stop drinking she has seizures, though she says she is tapering off alcohol.
Her 70-year old mother is couch surfing.

Nick
Nick, 25, came to Juneau from Seattle. He’d gotten into some trouble. He was also drinking, and into heroin and other drugs. He was let go from his boat yard job when production slowed. He said he has only used alcohol in Juneau.
“I needed to change something so I figured moving would help,” said Nick who says he has members of his family in Seattle who are either in recovery or alcoholics.
He met Emily when she was grieving for her sister and moved in with her, her children, and her mother. When they were evicted, the three kids went to their father, and Emily and Nick to the street, where they do whatever they can to get by, panhandling and sometimes selling their food stamps to pay for their cell phones.

John
John, 46, is a roofer from California who took a job on a tender in Petersburg for a year. After losing his identification, a pastor advised him to go to Juneau or Ketchikan. “It was a spur of the moment thing and that’s how I ended up in Alaska. It’s all gone downhill since I moved here.” He’s been on the street for eight years.
John says he broke his neck when he fell off a roof. “I’m in constant pain and have no medical insurance to care for my condition.” He takes small jobs to pay for the two “tilts” of beer a day he says uses to treat the pain.
John says his family in the Lower 48 refuses to help. He wants medical care and solid employment so he can take care of his fiancée, Valerie.

Valerie
Valerie, 44, from Hoonah, has been living in Juneau for 24 years, and on the streets for the last 10. She says life on the streets is tough.
“Some people think because I am a female, that they can take advantage of me. My boyfriend, my fiancée, takes good care of me, but it’s tough down here. There’s nowhere to go, we have nothing to do,” said Valerie, who has faced several criminal charges involving violence.
Valerie graduated from Rainforest Recovery Center but hasn’t maintained her sobriety. She says she needs to drink two 40-ounce bottles of beer a day to maintain her alcohol level or she has seizures.
Valerie says she has fetal alcohol syndrome. She had a child with FAS who was taken away from her when the child was 6 months old and was raised by his father. Her child said in an article that he doesn’t harbor any ill will towards his mother. She had two other children with a homeless man, Greg. Those children were also taken away.

Greg
Greg, 48, has a grown daughter from a previous relationship who isn’t in the picture, besides his two children with Valerie. He is no longer with Valerie. He says he drinks to forget a past that makes him sad.
Greg has a half-brother in Juneau, Dan, who he met for the first time at their mother’s funeral. Dan says his mother was an alcoholic and drug addict who killed herself when Greg was 18 years old.
Dan, who also was a heavy drinker, has struggled with his own sobriety so he can’t take Greg in. Greg managed a restaurant in the valley, but when his relationship fell apart and he lost his children, he moved into the woods.
“If I could get my personal identification back then I could get a real job and stop living the life I’ve been living,” said Greg, adding, “what I really want is a cabin in the woods and a life of peace.”

Joni
Joni, 50, was born in Metlakatla. She moved to Juneau when she was 19, and has been living on the streets for the last five years. She became homeless after her husband left her, and she experienced another personal trauma. She has an 18-year-old daughter in town who she says is not returning her calls right now.
Joni says she has fetal alcohol syndrome. She chose to start drinking at 19. She averages a couple of pints of whiskey a day, but is trying to taper off on her own because Rainforest Recovery Center is full.
“I’m freaking out so I’m drinking myself to death,” she said with a laugh. She later said her laughter was a cover for her pain. Joni says people give her money because she did the same when she worked and had money. In November, when the nights were getting too cold, she was filling out documents so she could move in with her best friend, Doug.

Doug
Doug, 50, is from Skagway. He and Joni have been living on the streets of Juneau for five years together. “I don’t care where we live, I just want a warm place for her to be,” said Doug.
Doug was a construction worker who came to Juneau after he said his marriage ended. “I came to Juneau to get away from Skagway,” said Doug. His two children live in California.
Doug, who’s retired, is drinking about a quart of whiskey a day, and living off his union pension.

• • •

Life on the streets of Juneau for people who are homeless and alcoholics is a tough life, especially in the winter.
Chronic inebriates do whatever they can to earn money to support their alcohol habits, which for most means drinking a minimum of two 40 ounce beers a day. Some I met were drinking as much as two pints of whiskey a day. If their alcohol levels drop below a certain point, they may start having seizures, and some die.
Some are picked up by Rainforest Recovery Center or by the police who first take them to the hospital for medical clearance before they are taken to what’s called the drunk tank at Lemon Creek Correctional Facility.
To get their alcohol fix, they panhandle, barter, do odd jobs and look for financial help from charitable organizations, among other things.
Because they are almost always under the influence, they tend to lose important documentation like Social Security cards and driver’s licenses, which for many appear to be insurmountable problems and they just give up.
This feeling of helplessness often leads to anger and self-pity. They drink and then lash out and people walking down the street or aggressively panhandle and berate those who won’t give them money.
People living on the street tend to bond together and form alliances. Women say they must pair up with men for safety and warmth. This often leads to pregnancies and babies born with FAS that are taken away from the mothers. These children often end up homeless themselves.

Downtown dilemma: Giving people aid in their darkest hours


Reserve Officer George Gozelski of the Juneau Police Department checks on an inebriated local man at Gunakadeit Park (also known as Pocket Park) on Franklin Street last July.   Michael Penn / Juneau Empire
Michael Penn / Juneau Empire
Reserve Officer George Gozelski of the Juneau Police Department checks on an inebriated local man at Gunakadeit Park (also known as Pocket Park) on Franklin Street last July.
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Several institutions and individuals are tasked with dealing with Juneau’s chronic inebriates. Here is a look at three of them:

The Juneau Police Department
Last summer, for the first time, the Juneau Police Department, after pressure from the Downtown Business Association, assigned an officer dedicated to the downtown area to monitor inebriates and to manage any problems that might arise. Downtown shop owners appreciated the efforts of the first liaison, Officer Tracy Murphy.
Murphy moved south, and this winter, Officer Thomas Penrose has stepped into his shoes. Penrose is still learning the job. He said that one of his main goals is enforcing Title 47, which is concerned with personal welfare, social services and institutions. Basically they administer public assistance for adults in need, which are often people who have passed out from alcohol abuse or are in medical danger.
“They really want me to be boots-to-the-ground to interact with business owners, inebriates, homeless, customers or citizens on a positive level, to try and figure out how we can move,” said Penrose.

Rainforest Recovery Center
“One in every 10 people in this country has troubles with alcohol or drugs,” said Sandy Kohtz. Kohtz is the director of Rainforest Recovery, a 16-bed facility that’s an offshoot of Bartlett Regional Hospital. She has been working in the substance abuse field since 1977, first as a social worker, then director, of a 175-bed statewide treatment center in Nebraska.
She said clients arrive at the door of Rainforest in different ways, but often their clients are picked up because they’re considered a public nuisance. Besides getting calls from the community, Rainforest actively looks for individuals who are obviously drunk. If an individual refuses services, they may be held for 12 hours at Lemon Creek Correctional Center.
That 12-hour stay, or “sleep-off”, is considered the first stage of a five-stage recovery. “Most people in sleep-off are in the pre-contemplative stage,” said Kohtz. Stage two is contemplation, stage three is preparation, stage four is action, and stage five is maintenance.
Kohtz says no two people arrive at sobriety the same way. Sometimes it’s like a revolving door.
“Relapse is part of the disease. The lucky ones are the ones that come back”, said Kohtz. “Unfortunately sometimes they die.”
Though many seem treatment resistant, Rainforest’s staff never gives up on a client. For example, one person had 76 admissions, and on the 76th he stayed sober for the rest of his life.
Kohtz said she never knows what is going to be effective.
“They have to be sick and tired of being sick and tired. And they have to do some recovery on their own,” said Kohtz. She has seen many people recover in her 35 years in the field, and she knows one thing for sure; if the outreach people are working harder for the sobriety than the client is, it’s not going to work.
Kohtz said the workers have to have a broad attitude. She doesn’t like the term “chronic inebriates,” as she thinks the term implies hopelessness.
“I would rather them be called a person who has a disease and aren’t ready to change,” she said. “If you don’t treat them as if its treatable, and if I didn’t believe that some of these people can get straight and sober, then there is no point.”
“For the most part I’ve been doing alcohol and drug treatment because you can see people get well. Even if it is 1 out of 10, it’s that one that keeps people going.”
This is one of the things that keep doctors and nurses going as well.

Bartlett Regional Hospital
Rose Lawhorne, a registered nurse, has been the Emergency Department manager at BRH for two years, after working for many years as an emergency room nurse. Lawhorne says inebriates are in the ER almost every day.
“Inebriates are one of the highest risk populations because there are so many things that can behave like intoxication. Blood sugar problems, strokes, low oxygen from heart problems, lung problems or infection,” said Lawhorne. Sorting out the problems can be tricky.
Every nurse feels differently, but some find their patience tried, especially when they see the same person twice in one day, or have to deal with violent behavior caused by drugs like methamphetamine. Consequently the hospital has security watching potentially violent people.
Frequently inebriates picked-up downtown must pass through the emergency room for a medical clearance before being transferred to Rainforest Recovery or Lemon Creek Correctional Center.
“We have to watch them at the hospital if security isn’t available, and it starts to take up time,” said JPD patrol officer Sarah Hieb.
Lawhorne says individuals average blood alcohol levels between 0.2 and 0.3, but there are many who blow 0.4, 0.5, and even above 0.6 because of their tolerance. A level of 0.08 is presumed by Alaska law to be too drunk to drive. Sometimes they are given medication to help relieve withdrawal symptoms before being released. Some simply get a sandwich and a warm blanket before being sent to Rainforest.
“At the same time we are seeing heart attacks and strokes, traumas, sick children, injuries,” said Lawhorne. “People come to us in their darkest time and the thing that keeps the nurses going is being able to meet them in their hour of need and support them.”

Downtown dilemma: Impacts of chronic drinkers a fact of life for downtown merchants

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Cartoonist TOE releases Palin book


A collection of Sarah Palin cartoons by Tony Newman, who draws under the pen name “TOE,” is being released in book format at the upcoming Alaska-Juneau Public Market.
The book, titled “When Sarah Palin Came to Town,” is a chronological look at Palin’s political career, focusing on the effect she had on Juneau and its residents.
“If there are two characters in this book they are Sarah Palin and Juneau,” Newman said. “The relationship between Palin and Juneau — the impact of her celebrity and leadership was something I hadn’t seen explored fully in the books that have been about her and by her.”
Newman pairs his personal reflections of political events surrounding Palin with his published cartoons, adding a couple dozen previously unpublished drawings. He said the book seemed like an impossible dream until a tragic event helped push him forward.
“If anything gave me the motivation to do this it was the loss of my friend John Caouette a year ago,” he said.
While processing and reflecting on Caouette’s unexpected death with his friends, Newman said they realized they needed to go after the things they want — relax about work, travel more and do the things they love.
“I realized that I already do what I love to do in these cartoons,” Newman said.
Caouette had always encouraged Newman to take his cartoons further, but Newman had struggled to find a unifying theme for his collection. Then Palin came to town.
“I thought Frank Murkowski was an incredibly colorful governor and when he lost I thought we were going to enter a quiet boring time, no matter who it was, and obviously Sarah Palin was anything but,” he said.
Newman had a 10-year cartoon retrospective at the Juneau-Douglas City Museum in 2007, as Palin was just starting her first term as governor, and he was asked about her as a new subject. He was quoted as saying, “She’s a striking-looking person, so she’ll be fun to draw. She also seems like she’ll be a dynamic sort of personality that may get into hot water or at least be visible.”
He couldn’t have known then how right he was. With a colorful subject to work with, Newman’s Palin cartoons were inspired and people responded locally and nationally.
Newman has received a lot of positive feedback over the years with Alaska Press Club awards and a solid fan following, One particular letter to the editor in 2008, a little more than a year after Palin became governor, said Newman had found his muse in Palin and called one of his drawings a masterpiece; the letter confirmed his idea that Palin would be a solid unifying concept for the book.
“The arc of Sarah Palin’s career from governor to not governor has been a single story line. I realized I do have a theme here,” Newman said.
Juneau also plays a major role.
“Prior to Sarah Palin we were all about — to outsiders — snow and tundra, polar bears and fishing, and now, post-Palin, tell me that’s not the first question you get when you talk to friends that find out where you are from.”
Newman sees the book as a sort of Palin therapy, and he hopes that both Palin critics and Palin fans will identify their own reactions to her in the book.
“This book is both for us, Juneau residents to relive this interesting time in our history, but it’s also for people who are interested in Sarah Palin, and either love her and don’t understand why there has been sort of a general reaction against her from Alaskans, (or) for people who don’t understand what her appeal ever was and how Alaska could put her out as sort of our best citizen.”
His tone is playful rather than biting, and he says most of his subjects, including legislators he’s poked fun at over the years, have asked for the cartoons.
When he initially pitched his Palin collection idea in front of the Juneau Arts and Humanities Council, they were encouraging even though the idea wasn’t fully formed.
“I didn’t even have a clear idea of what I wanted, I just knew I wanted to enhance and develop my collection of Sarah Palin work as it relates to Juneau specifically. I didn’t know if that was an exhibit or a book or a pamphlet or a movie,” Newman said.
The arts council gave him an individual artist grant and a deadline, which Newman says was critical to the project.
“Without a deadline I could never have dragged myself through it,” said Newman, who is also a father, husband, and full-time state worker with many community commitments.
Newman, who has contributed cartoons to the editorial page of the Juneau Empire for more than 10 years, doesn’t always focus on politics in his drawings — he covers a wide range of topics of community interest, like the weather and personal tributes.
“One thing I can say about my work is that it’s erratic,” he said. “I don’t claim to be a great artist, I’m not trained as an artist, I’m trained as a journalist. I think my strength lies in my ideas.”
His family gives him the space to create when he needs to.
“When it’s cartoon night I plant myself in the middle of the kitchen where all the action is and draw,” Newman said. He is comfortable with chaos, having grown up with nine brothers and sisters Pittsburgh, Penn.
“When I was a toddler my mom set up a chalkboard in the kitchen so she could keep an eye on me, and I remember she would step around me as she worked in the kitchen as I sat there and drew.”
Newman drew lots of cartoons for friends over the years but it wasn’t until he moved to Anchorage in 1993 and noticed a call for cartoon submissions at the Anchorage Daily News that he became published. After moving to Juneau, he went on to draw for The Paper, begun by former Empire editor Larry Persily, and the Capital City Weekly before becoming a regular contributor to the Empire in 2000.
Newman’s book will be available at the Alaska Juneau Public Market, running Friday through Sunday at Centennial Hall. He hopes it will inspire conversations.
“There’s something about the combination of the right brain and the left brain — there’s the artwork but there’s also an intellectual stimulation that tweaks people in a way.”