Jobless legions bring hope, resumes

The line starts in the middle of the Rio's convention center, outside the doors of the Caesars Entertainment job fair. From there it winds around a corner, hugs a wall down a hallway that seems as long as a football field, then meanders back again, around another corner, out the door and into the morning light in the first week of the new year.

The line has only begun. From there, it heads east toward the Rio employee parking, and by noon it will lasso the lot twice before coiling like a rope of humanity.

The line is a living thing, an anxious thing. The air is scented with hope and desperation and Christmas cologne. There is small talk, nervous laughter, the buzz of anticipation and silent contemplation.

The line is brown and black and white and shades in between ---- all the colors that make up Southern Nevada's jobless legions. Statistics say that about 11 percent of the local workforce is unemployed, but experience says the number is closer to twice that. Add the uncounted "under-employed," those who hustle for a shift or two of work a week, and the picture is Kafkaesque.

You may think of them as strangers, but walk the line, and you'll change your mind. These are your friends, your family members, your neighbors.

They are proud, but not too proud to stand for hours. They are tired, but not so fatigued that they didn't start turning out before sunrise to participate in a job fair scheduled to start at 11 a.m. with the promise of 3,300 positions. The work is varied, and it is coveted. By the time the fair ends, an estimated 6,000 people will stand in this line.

Anita McCary, vice president of retail sales at job fair co-sponsor WestStar Credit Union, sees hope in the line and in a community slowly rising from recession. In all, 23 companies are represented this day.

The turnout makes a lie of the prattle of the unemployed not being motivated to return to work.

"You can't say that here today," McCary says. "Not at all."

Most of the thousands assembled wear business attire and outfits more suited for a night on the town than a morning in an unemployment line. Women seeking positions as maids or counter clerks wear pressed outfits and high heels.

Men hoping for jobs in maintenance, or construction, or anything, sport far more slacks than jeans. Nearly everyone carries resumes, some wrapped in colorful folders and leather satchels.

The gray-haired may be the quietest among the thousands. They look for work in a line that teems with the young. They stare into the reality of starting over in an unforgiving market.

At the head of the line are Sonia and Hector Armendariz, who arrived around 4:30 a.m. Sonia putting silicone in solar panels ended a month ago, and today she hopes for a housekeeping job. But anything will do.

"It's hard to do without a job," she says. "There's bills."

Yes, bills. Alesha has them, too. She's a college student and ex-cocktail waitress who has been under-employed a year.

"I just want a full-time day job," she says. When asked whether it has been frustrating, she gets pugnacious. "It's hard, but you have to suck it up. If you do get a job, it's part-time, and you can't live off part-time. But I have a backbone. Some people don't have a backbone. You've got to have that backbone."

Former property maintenance man Ken's back is fine, but after two years, 500 resumes and a job search that has stretched to four other states, he admits he's desperate.

"I would take a job at Taco Bell," he says. "But I applied at Taco Bell, and about 5,000 people applied for the same job."

Unemployed chef James Collins never imagined he would lose his job, but he stays focused. "I still have to provide security for my entire family. I can't give up."

For Daniel Guzman, the priority is "putting food on the table" after applying online to more than 800 companies.

For Ferragi Reynolds it's "Anything, really, to pay the rent."

When you hear people chide the unemployed and call them lazy, fraudulent and worse, remember the line at the Rio filled with thousands of Southern Nevadans who want nothing more than to win a job and get back to work in the first month of the new year.

Will 2012 be their year?

Pray the answer is yes.

After listening to the stories of hope, perseverance and aching desperation, I remind myself this line doesn't go on forever.

On this morning, it only seems that way.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Email him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 702-383-0295. He also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/smith.