Being Homeless in Las Vegas, Pt. 2: The Tunnels
All photographs are owned by William Holby.
In Part 1 of this series, I wrote about my experience dressing up as a homeless man in Las Vegas and begging for change over a period of 48 hours. Those interactions occurred on the strip, primarily between out of town visitors and I. However, part of the task at hand was to delve into the world of Vegas that isn't advertised on flashy screens. The world of the locals, the homeless, and the desert outskirts of the strip.
Inspiration for our journey partly originated from author and journalist Matthew O'Brien's book, Beneath the Neon. O'Brien explored the complex underground tunnel system of Vegas that is used for flooding, and discovered that there was a community of homeless people living there. We decided to wander into the tunnels, cautiously - of course, as we were not sure what to expect.
Packed with us were bags of food that we planned on giving to anyone we found in case our presence was less than welcomed.The first thing we noticed was a collection of personal items (chairs, sleeping bag, bottles, ect.) set up to be a home at the mouth of the tunnel. The space was uninhabited, so we went straight for inside the tunnel. The first thing you notice is the smell. It's pungent, in a moldy type of way, and the humidity increases slightly because of the presence of water. Only darkness lied ahead, so we turned on our light sticks, and continued to tread past items of minutia, graffiti, and stalactites of some unknown material. Eventually, the puddles of water grew in depth, and we were unable to continue. We didn't find the fabled, underground community, most likely because we did not travel far enough. Or maybe recent floods have forced the community to find shelter elsewhere? Regardless, we did find parts of it in other places.
Most of the homeless people we ran into found a home in the mouths of the tunnels. They take their privacy very seriously. For what the lucky group of us would consider to be a pile of trash, a considerable population of Las Vegas believes it be a place to come back to after a long day. There's always the fear that someone could be coming to take what is their's, so most of the time our inquiries were rejected. One couple, however, did accept our food offering and allowed us to photograph near the tunnel opening where they lived. Of course, they chose to stay hidden in the comfort of their own space.
Something about the close proximity of the tunnels to the Las Vegas strip is unsettling. While exploring the tunnels, we traveled to a point where we were able to hear vehicles driving on the strip above us. The lights of Vegas shine bright, but they also cast a dark shadow. I do not condemn anyone for enjoying themselves in Vegas, however there are a lot of people suffering and that story isn't being told. We go to Vegas to enjoy its excess, but are there also sometimes dire consequences to that behavior? Do some people get trapped in a cycle of spending money and drinking, and if they did, would the wealthy owners of Vegas hotels even care?
On the last night of our journey, we exited the tunnels for a final time after grabbing some audio samples. As we climbed over the concrete, a man with a large rock in one hand began yelling at us. His demeanor was aggressive, and he claimed to know for a fact that we were destroying his property. Supposedly, we were a part of a Las Vegas gang that has been terrorizing the tunnels, and he was willing to "Crack my motherfucking skull" if he had to. I was able to deescalate the situation, and soon he was telling us his story. He was released from prison seven years ago, and a few years ago his home in the tunnels was completely flooded. Now he roams the near by areas. His attention quickly turned from us to a person on the other side of the street. Except there wasn't a person there, only a wall, and his jumbled thoughts which needed to be released.
Stay tuned for the conclusion of this series! And thank you to everyone who supported my last article, I appreciate it immensely!
