Man’s Idea to Aid Homeless Lands Him in the Doghouse

The way Jerry Baros tells it, all he wanted to do was help the homeless of New Mexico. But for his efforts, he was ridiculed, denounced by city officials and condemned by the people he was trying to help.

Baros had a doghouse business, and he figured that with a few modifications, his doghouses could provide temporary shelter for homeless people. So he added 3 feet to the length of his standard doghouse design and installed windows and a door.

On a raw winter day last year, Baros loaded his modified doghouse onto his pickup truck and transported it to a downtown Albuquerque lot where the homeless gathered. They were not appreciative. Several told the assembled reporters they would rather sleep in cardboard boxes than live like dogs. A city official told Baros that his doghouses for the homeless were “dehumanizing, degrading and disgusting.” And, as television cameras whirred, a homeless man urinated on Baros’ creation.

Baros said he was humiliated when a television reporter then turned to him and said: “It doesn’t appear that the homeless have enthusiastically embraced your idea.”

Although a few homeless people eventually called Baros during the next few months and he provided shelters for them, the city never backed his plan. City officials said his modified doghouse still looked too much like a doghouse.

But Baros, convinced that temporary shelters were desperately needed by the homeless during the harsh Albuquerque winters, refused to abandon his plan. He returned to his garage workshop and revamped his design. His doghouse design was low to the ground and very long; but his new design was 8 feet tall. Baros felt secure that it bore no resemblance to a doghouse.

But when he unveiled it, city officials again rejected the design. His newest shelter, they said, looked like an outhouse.

Baros admitted defeat and finally abandoned his efforts, disappointed that both his motives and his creation were misunderstood.

‘Open-Minded’ Californians

But after moving to Santa Barbara recently and learning that a homeless man froze to death during the winter, Baros decided that his shelters were needed here. He is now convinced that he has had the right idea all along, but the wrong place. What New Mexico rejected, California will support, he said, because “people here are more open-minded.”

Baros recently was encouraged when several local lumber and paint companies donated materials for the prototype of what he now calls a “porta-shelter.” Baros decided to return to his modified doghouse design, instead of the outhouse look, because it is less expensive and easier to build.

Baros, who now works as a carpenter, said he never intended to make any money off his creation. He said he is a devout Christian and simply wants to follow Biblical counsel and “help my fellow man.”

But Santa Barbara homeless leaders are not impressed with Baros’ efforts here either.

“These people have enough problems with self-esteem . . . they don’t need to be put in doghouses,” said LaVergne Nickerson, head of the Salvation Army in Santa Barbara.

Feel Degraded

“If I slept in a doghouse, I’d feel degraded,” said Pat Henningsen an administrator for Transition House, which sponsors two homeless shelters in the Santa Barbara area.

“This is a symbol for what’s wrong with the way we deal with the homeless . . . it’s easier to put people in doghouses than building more affordable housing and really addressing the homeless problem,” said Jane Haggstrom, coordinator of the Santa Barbara Homeless Coalition.

Some homeless people, however, have said that there are nights when a doghouse would be a welcome sight.

“Hey, if it was raining or got real cold, I’d use it,” said Jeff Hess, who described his address as “between the public tennis courts and the city college.”

“I don’t knock the guy who built them,” Hess said. “At least he’s got the heart to think about us and is trying to do something to help.”

Baros hopes homeless people in Santa Barbara will begin requesting his porta-shelters so local agencies will be forced to stockpile them. Then, during the winters or when temporary housing is scarce, his creations could be set up on large lots and offered to those who need shelter.

Baros came up with the idea of doghouses for the homeless last year when he stopped by a rescue mission in Albuquerque to donate a 100-pound sack of potatoes.

Shivering Woman

“I started talking to an elderly woman that morning,” Baros recalled. “It was pathetic. She was a very sweet old lady who was standing out there shivering. She told me she slept outside every night and all she had to protect her from the cold was two Army jackets.

“I told her I made doghouses for a living and asked if she’d like me to make her a little house. She looked at me and said, ‘Honey, God bless you.’ ”

Baros added insulation to his standard doghouse, installed carpeting, built two small windows and a door with a lock. But when he returned to the rescue mission, he could not find the elderly woman. Instead, Baros was met by a group of drunk homeless men, he said, who roundly rejected his shelter. The event was widely reported and, Baros said, he became an object of derision.

“My sister called me up that night after seeing the whole thing on TV. She told me: ‘You looked like an idiot. I hope you learned your lesson trying to help those bums.’ ”

But during the next few days, Baros said, he received numerous calls and letters supporting him, and he eventually built five more porta-shelters for homeless people who contacted him. And New Mexico Gov. Garrey Carruthers sent him a thank you letter for his concern and a certificate of appreciation, which Baros has framed.

Albuquerque Embarrassed

The city of Albuquerque was embarrassed, however, because the doghouse issue focused attention on the shortage of programs available for the homeless, Baros said. As a result, he said, city officials refused to accept his offer of donated doghouses.

“We didn’t feel it was decent for people to live in doghouses,” said Mark Sanchez, deputy director of Albuquerque’s department of human services. “And there’s a lot of liability issues when you talk about putting people in those things on vacant lots.”

The city eventually evicted the five homeless people who lived on a downtown lot in Baros’ porta-shelters. Baros returned to the lot, loaded the shelters onto his pickup truck and brought them back home.

He then sold them to pet owners who wanted dog houses.