Local

While a survivor is taking steps toward leaving and potentially developing a safety plan, outsiders can still play a role in the process. The first part is prevention.

Gina knew her neighbors could hear the abuse from their homes. Yet they did nothing.

Long after leaving a domestic violence situation, a person can still experience trauma, which often manifests in mental health issues.

During a random visit, North Las Vegas Police Department Officer Scott Vaughn discovers a woman who has been squatting inside a small shack. This encounter doesn’t surprise Vaughn, who has seen it all — narcotic operations, prostitute rings and people just trying to find shelter. The department is aware of the squatter situation and makes it a priority to visit popular squatter areas to keep people away.

Part of the legal process of taking back a home from a squatter can involve a lockout, with the landlord legally having to keep the squatter’s belongings safe for 21 days — either inside a storage unit (at the expense of the squatter) or inside the house.

About 40 people attended a Strangulation Seminar in July at UNLV to learn what to look for to identify strangulation in victims. According to the Metropolitan Police Department, Nevada saw about 700,000 reported cases of strangulation in 2014.

The Great Recession hit Las Vegas like a storm, leaving in its wake a surplus of empty houses and financial troubles. With homes around the valley in various stages of the foreclosure process, it can be hard to track ownership paper trails, making them an easy target for squatters.

Squatting has roots that trace back to the founding of the United States. Throughout the country, the practice of squatting — back then known as homesteading — was essential to forming the nation. Yet when most people think about modern-day squatters, they think of criminals or crust punk anarchists who are “giving the middle finger” to a capitalist nation. The reality is, the face of squatters has changed since the Great Recession.

The phone rings and a frantic voice begins to speak on the other end of the line: “Grandma, I’m in trouble.” The caller says he needs money right away to get out jail or to help with whatever financial emergency has arisen. As a grandparent, you feel obligated to send it — sometimes through direct deposit, other times through gift cards. The problem is, that wasn’t your grandchild who called. You have just been scammed out of hundreds — sometimes even thousands — of dollars.