These days, Stretch Husbands usually “flies a sign” asking for money at the corner of 39th and Fox streets. But Husbands, a tall, gaunt man with a leathery, tanned face and hollow cheeks, has worked Denver’s downtown business district before.
Despite the likely passage today of three new laws to curb panhandling downtown, Husbands says he’ll be back.
“The law is not going to change how I act,” Husbands said, smoking a cigarette outside the St. Francis homeless shelter Friday. “The people I’ve talked to, the law won’t change their minds.”
The new laws will outlaw sitting or lying on the 16th Street Mall and in some surrounding areas from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. They will outlaw soliciting money from people seated at outdoor restaurants or stepping into traffic to ask for money.
The problem for the city is guys like Husbands. He already distinguishes between what he calls panhandling – aggressive verbal solicitation – and what he calls “flying a sign” – holding up a placard that asks for money.
Husbands understands the new city ordinances, which hope to make downtown more tourist-friendly and improve the shopping climate for locals. But for Husbands and many like him, the consequences of abiding by those laws can be more severe than breaking them.
Punishment under the panhandling statutes may carry fines and a day in jail.
“I’ve already gotten five tickets” for soliciting money, said Husbands. “With four of them, the charges were dropped before I went to court. I’m going to court on the fifth one.”
If all a conviction carries is a $50 fine and a night in jail, many hard-core panhandlers say the same thing: No big deal.
At Step 13, a residential recovery facility for former homeless drunks and drug addicts, nine men sorted through circumstances that changed their lives and got them off the streets. None mentioned tickets or jail time for panhandling.
All nine asked to remain anonymous, but their insights got to the heart of what does and doesn’t work.
A night in jail for a homeless alcoholic or drug addict, said one man, is “a roof over your head.”
There’s also plenty to say for the vocal, personal approach to begging.
“When you’re face-to-face,” said another Step 13 resident, “it’s harder for the person to say no. I have a nephew who panhandles as a way of life. It’s like his job.”
That mind-set threatens to undermine the city’s effort to get rid of beggars, said Step 13 director Bob Cote.
“It will be like herding cats,” Cote said.
The new laws stem from the philosophy that people would rather do anything than beg. Long term, said St. Francis director Tom Luehrs, that’s probably true.
But not necessarily short term.
For the hard-core, he added, only hard- core consequences, such as shipping panhandlers off to a labor camp for 30 days, might work.
Luehrs tells his clients that panhandling is a dead end. He’s glad the new laws are designed to connect panhandlers with services that help them find housing, employment and self-sufficiency. But Luehrs also knows that many folks see no other option than begging.
Seated on the pavement with a sign asking for donations and a cup to put them in, Sherry Dominguez realizes her panhandling at the corner of Welton Street and the 16th Street Mall may not be allowed after Jan. 1, when the new laws take effect.
“I’m looking for work,” Dominguez said. “So hopefully, I won’t have to do this. I don’t want to do it. But right now it’s legal. When they pass these laws, some people might become desperate.”
More desperate than they already are.
“We try to get people jobs every day,” Luehrs said. “And it’s a real struggle. It’s bigger than one issue. It’s the economics of people’s lives.”
Tough times almost always trump tough laws. And when they do, you don’t care about a ticket or a night in jail.
You care about surviving.
Jim Spencer’s column appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at 303-820-1771 or jspencer@denverpost.com.
