Focus House is a success born of tragedy.
On a winter night in the mid-1980s, a homeless man apparently had no place to escape freezing temperatures. He curled up next to a supermarket on the south end of town and the next morning store employees found him dead, half covered in snow.
Vowing it would never happen here again, a group of residents formed a nonprofit organization aimed at providing temporary shelter for the homeless.
Then-Gov. Richard Bryan responded to their appeal by granting them access to a deserted, nearly destroyed building on state property at the former Stewart Indian School complex.
FOCUS, or Friends of Citizens Under Stress, was born.
The organization later merged with Friends in Service Helping, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing services for the needy.
The historic stone dwelling that became Focus House is shrouded in giant fir trees. On a cold gray morning in November, light from a bedroom window casts patterns on the snow as tenants begin their day.
Shane is bundled against the cold in a stocking cap and heavy coat. In his 30s, he has sandy-colored hair and blue eyes. Shane has been on the road for five years since his wife and son left him. He's found employment, and believes he's ready to settle down.
Nicolina, a petite, dark-eyed and energetic woman also in her 30s, said her husband left her without resources two months ago. She now has a new job, and she's moving out of Focus House.
The homeless are often perceived as living on the fringes of society, dwelling in the shadows alone and often unseen. But according to FISH Executive Director Monte Fast, the stereotype is not the reality.
Transients, teens and young adults deserted by their families make up the bulk of the homeless, he said. Low-wage earners, living precariously on the edges of a 24-hour-a-day tourist economy by busing tables or doing janitorial work, are just one step away from disaster.
Fast said much of the homeless problem could be eased if organizations would reach out to the homeless during their teens. The single mom working for minimum wage is extremely vulnerable. He drew a hypothetical picture:
"She's a waitress and at 1 a.m. she has to take her baby to the emergency room because he is sick," he said. "She shows up late for her shift at 1 p.m. rather than at 10 a.m., and by the time she gets there she's been replaced."
"They often don't present (themselves) as homeless people when they show up in the emergency room," said Teresa York, director of Carson-Tahoe Hospital's emergency services.
After initial treatment, the homeless are often referred to FISH or Focus House.
"Temporary shelter for the homeless was once offered through the churches and the Sheriff's Department, but now they come here," Fast said. (Focus House is the only facility serving Lyon, Douglas and Storey counties.)
It provides a haven for those starting over, stepping up, or trying to improve their situation. Often they're looking for work or trying to pay off a debt.
Need is determined on a case-by-case basis, and when they find employment or their situation changes for the better, they are asked to make a donation toward their keep.
Focus House has 32 beds and averages 14 to15 clients per night. There are plans to expand to another house in the same complex for single men.
Those sheltered are first checked out on a national crime database through the Sheriff's Department. Drugs and alcohol aren't allowed, and sometimes clients are required to take breathalizer and drug tests.
FISH employs a husband-wife team to oversee the facility but doesn't have the staff to handle convalescents or the mentally ill.
The doors are open from 5 p.m. to 8 a.m. to men, women and children of all ages. Women and children are admitted first, but this is usually not an issue because overcrowding is rarely a problem.
Nevada State Division of Welfare, a Carson City community service block grant fund and the United Way provide most of the $34,800 needed yearly to keep the Focus House doors open.
