Foul-Weather Friends

Forty-year-old Ken Rocheleau carefully selected his spot on the shelter floor, a patch of carpet that would catch the glow from an outside bulb after the inside lights went dim.

Then he sprawled out on his mat and opened his book: “Modern Politics and Economic Systems.” It’ll be half-finished by daybreak, he said.

Nearby, a slightly younger man lay huddled beneath a blanket, too tired to read. It was the first time he had stayed in the shelter, but tonight, he was exhausted. “I’m tired of sleeping crunched over in my car,” he said. “I needed a place to stretch out.”

The pair were among the six men and one woman sleeping on a recent weeknight at the Calvary Evangelical Free Church, one of four local churches taking part in Orange County’s only city-sponsored program that provides shelter on cold winter nights. One hundred volunteers take part.

With county-backed homeless shelters in jeopardy of closing, officials are studying Laguna’s program and hoping that other nonprofit organizations could follow this city’s lead.

“We are really excited about how it works in Laguna Beach and we’d like to utilize their program at other nonprofit shelters,” said Judi Crumley, the county’s homeless issues coordinator.

Crumley said the county now runs winter night shelters at two National Guard armories between Dec. 15 and March 15 under a $100,000 federal grant.

But the county’s effort is threatened because the armories might not be available next year, she said.

“We are trying to put together something to keep them going,” Crumley said, adding that she plans to lobby Gov. Pete Wilson to continue making the armories available as shelters.

Laguna’s program was begun seven years ago when the City Council, with $10,000 in federal funds that have been renewed each year, made it the only city in Orange County to provide its own haven of warmth and dryness on nights the temperature dips below 40 degrees, or 50 degrees if it’s raining.

Laguna’s program was launched at the urging of Alice Graves, a retired elementary school teacher and an activist on homeless issues. Graves, 65, has become a friend to many of the homeless in the community after helping to provide them with food and shelter.

“I’ve gotten to know most of the homeless we have around here and they are not half bad, most of them,” said Graves, who is also chairwoman of the city’s Housing and Human Affairs Committee. “They just have glitches that screw their lives up. But they get cold and wet just like everyone else. And at night, it’s pretty miserable out there.”

A decision each winter day to open the nighttime shelters rests with Suzanne Shaw, the city’s recreation supervisor, who begins her workday by checking the weather report. If the forecast is cold weather, Shaw flies a blue and orange flag from the downtown lifeguard tower, a signal to the homeless that a shelter will be open that night.

“They all know to look for that flag,” Shaw said. “I try to have it up by noon, so they can network” and get the word out.

Graves is sewing a new flag to replace the tattered old one.

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The four churches take turns opening their doors to the homeless at night. Along with Calvary Church, Laguna Presbyterian Church, Neighborhood Congregational Church and United Methodist Church of Laguna Beach take part in the program.

While the county provides blankets, showers, a hot meal and sometimes a light breakfast for the homeless, in Laguna it’s more bare bones--there is only a blanket and mat to sleep on and no showers.

Rocheleau, a frequent visitor to the shelters who has been homeless off and on for about 12 years, said Laguna Beach has defined itself as a city with a heart.

“I’d be sleeping on the beach” if the shelter weren’t open, he said.

One recent chilly night, a cluster of men and one woman arrived in a spare room at Calvary Church and each selected a place to rest. Chairs were stacked against the wall in the neat, narrow room and people were asked to arrange their mats horizontally so more people could squeeze in if necessary.

Roger Lanzon, a security guard who has presided over the city’s cold-weather shelters since they opened, said he brings fruit or cookies for the men and women. “It’s better than nothing,” he said.

Lanzon, a Garden Grove resident, has seen plenty since he assumed this duty, including sickness, and occasional fights and thievery. Sometimes the snoring gets so bad, some shelter occupants haul their mats outside for privacy and quiet.

One night, Lanzon recalled, a woman arrived with her children in tow. She took one look at the rows of snoring people and walked back out.

“She didn’t want her children in this kind of place, she told me,” he said.

When the occupants start drifting off to sleep, Lanzon, whose shift is 12 hours, begins a game of solitaire, his police radio at his side. By pushing a button, he can summon police or paramedics.

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While clearly grateful for a place to stay, shelter inhabitants wish out loud for somewhere to bathe and wash their clothes, and grumble about the price of motels and housing in Laguna Beach.

Their biggest gripe, however, is a city law that bans sleeping on the beach between 7 p.m. and 7 a.m., or sleeping elsewhere in public at any time, even in a car.

“If you sleep, you get a ticket; if you get enough tickets, you go to jail,” one man said. “It’s absurd.”

“I like it in Laguna Beach,” he added. “And just because I’m poor doesn’t mean I have to be driven out.”

But Deputy Police Chief Jim Spreine said the law is needed because people in the community, especially business owners, complain about the homeless sleeping in public places.

“We have situations where . . . a lot of these people don’t leave the area the way they found it,” Spreine said. “When you don’t have a home, you don’t have a restroom either, and they tend to use public property to dispose of their human waste.

“At least the shelter provides them restroom facilities and it gets them out of the rain or the cold,” he said.