Cleanup under way

When neighbors complained last week about Roger Anderson turning his front yard into a garbage dump, he told them what they saw as junk was actually worth a lot of money.

It turns out he was right. The massive pile of refuse is now generating thousands in revenue for the company hired to haul it away.

Anderson's father and landlord, Charles Anderson, has paid nearly $4,000 since Sunday to clean up the pile of junk in front of his Eugene Avenue home, ending a standoff with annoyed residents of the neighborhood near Lake Mead and Decatur boulevards.

Charles Anderson, 85, also has begun eviction proceedings against his garbage-gathering son, 53, and grandson, 30-year-old Aaron Anderson, who also spends his days scouring local trash bins for items.

"They're relatives. I hate like hell evicting 'em. But I gotta do it," Charles Anderson said Monday.

He said he moved out of the home in October to live with his daughter and help care for her 17-year-old son, who requires constant supervision because of his autism.

Until he caught a news report about it Saturday, Anderson said he had no idea his unemployed relatives had turned the home he has owned for 40 years into a junkyard about to draw a government-forced cleanup and fines.

"When I left eight months ago, they were collecting some stuff in the house, but it wasn't that bad," he said. "They kept promising me they were going to clean it up, but they apparently just kept trashing it worse."

Clark County opened a case against the place in mid-February and was preparing to take action after two warnings went unheeded. But Anderson's actions probably will lead to dropping pending penalties against the homeowner, county officials said.

"What we're always looking for his voluntary compliance (with public nuisance laws)," county code enforcement chief Joe Boteilho said.

After a hired crew of four outfitted with a Bobcat loader spent Sunday and Monday hauling off six dump-truck loads of material, the residence looked dramatically different than it did on Friday.

Gone are the thousands of items and strewn garbage that concealed most of the house's façade from passing traffic. Only a few large pieces remained, like a 12-foot couch missing all its cushions and a refrigerator lying on its side, dirty and in disrepair.

But the rest of the property needs much more work to fit in with others in a neighborhood where homes sell for $500,000.

Although Charles Anderson might be angry with his son and grandson, the retiree was jovial as he led a reporter on a tour of his backyard to survey the chaos there.

The 130-pound veteran of World War II who had a 50-year roulette dealing career appeared in top shape as he continually bent down and hoisted more heavy items to discard.

After walking past five damaged gas grills and a refrigerator missing its compressor, Anderson stopped to examine a frayed blue tent that from the outside looked like it would sleep a dozen campers.

Inside, there was not enough room to enter.

"If you put one more box in there, the tent's going to explode," he said, laughing.

Nearby, five bicycles stood alongside the fence, and four yellowing mattresses rested against the house. Between them were more than a dozen shopping carts overflowing with junk.

There were at least another 40 shopping carts scattered across the half-acre lot, most still stuffed with items discarded by strangers.

"I don't know where they got all this stuff, but these guys are crazy thinking they're going to make money off it," he said. "I wouldn't give you 50 cents for the lot of it."

While he made the "crazy" remark casually, Anderson went on to say he believes his son and grandson need professional help.

"They need someone to find out why they have such a compulsion to collect."

Anderson has not seen or spoken to his son or grandson recently. The unemployed pair have not shown up at the home since the cleanup started. They could not be located to comment for this story.

Anderson expects clearing the rest of the property will set him back another $6,000.

But he got a little help from a stranger over the weekend.

On Friday, a pickup with debris crammed throughout its cab sat in the driveway. By Monday, it was gone.

"The lady who sold it to them came and repossessed it because they stopped making payments," Anderson said, smiling. "And she took some of the crap inside with her. I was so pleased."

With the work crew gone for the day, the sweating senior returned to dragging one loaded garbage can after another to the curb.

Asked whether he would need a vacation after all of the work, he said he wouldn't.

"Instead, I'm going to have a neighborhood party and apologize for what these guys did."