
A hooded figure slumps on the stone ledge and casts a bulky silhouette against the sandstone frontage of downtown Las Vegas's Regional Justice Center.

All along the sidewalk, hugging the vast building's walls, or out by the benches amid trees that landscape its façade, people are sleeping. They bloom out of the darkness, barely discernible at first among the heaps of fabric and jumbles of possessions that draw the eye from one onto another and then another.

It is 2am on Saturday February 1, and it's cold. Across town, the Courtyard Homeless Resource Center is posting that it has 201 free mats on which any of these homeless people could sleep, which means that, for the past two hours, every person sleeping here has been committing a crime.

Last November, Las Vegas City Council made it illegal for homeless people to sit, camp or sleep in public places when there are spaces available at approved shelters. Those doing so risk misdemeanor penalties of a $1,000 fine, arrest and up to six months in jail.

According to Mayor Carolyn Goodman the ordinance 'demonstrates compassion,' and aims to 'connect the homeless with services,' not throw them in jail.

But critics say this is a 'war on the poor' that criminalizes homelessness and is as unforgivable as it is immoral.

In November, Las Vegas City Council made it illegal for homeless people to sit, camp or sleep in public places when there are spaces available in shelters. Bruce, 37, (pictured) who hitchhiked to Vegas from San Diego is looking to 'start afresh' but cannot get work thanks to his criminal record. He is proud of surviving on the street and calls the ordinance 'unconstitutional.' Eric, 32, (behind him) says jail time would 'ruin his life'

DailyMailTV spoke with some of the homeless in Las Vegas who refuse to sleep in shelters, with feelings of being forced 'into cages'. Homeless couple Ruth Owens, 45 and Kayden Phoenix, 39, are pictured wiling away the time in the Courtyard Resources Center

A young homeless man sits, head bowed, on the sidewalk above Las Vega's iconic Strip. The Strip is not within city lines and therefore not subject to the new ordinance

Constance McCullough, 67, came to Las Vegas from Brooklyn to meet a friend - only, she says, the friend didn't tell her he was married. She cannot afford to go back and is too proud to ask for family help. 'If I fall I get up,' she said. She hopes to be housed soon

When a homeless person checks into the Courtyard Resource Center they are provided with a bin if one is available in which they can safely store their belongings

Scenes from Downtown Las Vegas' Fremont Experience, a pedestrian mall and attraction, show how visible homelessness is

Despite the end of a three-month grace period, officers on the streets have been directed to issue warnings – not citations - for the next three weeks to those sleeping on the streets

When the ordinance was passed homeless advocates threatened legal action and protesters waved placards in front of City Hall, calling for 'Homes not Handcuffs.'

But after all the grandstanding and politicking, when the criminal penalties were finally enforced on Saturday, the only ones left on the street were the homeless. And that isn't set to change any time soon.

A sign enforcing the new ordinance is seen in the heart of Downtown Las Vegas

Because the police don't answer to the City and, DailyMailTV has learned, that officers tasked with enforcing the ordinance have effectively been given the order not to.

Despite the end of a three-month grace period, officers on the streets have been directed to issue warnings – not citations - for the next three weeks and not to make any arrests unless a person becomes belligerent.

Police will be kept appraised of available beds via an automated system updated by staff at the four approved shelters every two hours from 6pm through to 4am or until their beds are full.

By 4am on the first night of the 'enforcement' there were still 206 beds available. By 4am on Sunday there were 176. And on both nights a far greater number of people slept on the streets undisturbed.

A police source told DailyMailTV, 'We honestly don't know how it's meant to work or how it can be enforced. We can't force people into shelters, we can give them a nudge, we can tell them to move on but if they're back in the same place twenty minutes later? We're not arresting them.'

One officer on the ground, who declined to be named, told DailyMailTV, 'We're not going to start going around town, rounding up homeless people and arresting them. That's not what we do, we don't have the time and we're not going to start now.'

Officer Larry Hadfield spokesman for the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department told DailyMail.com, 'Our priority remains violent crime. Homelessness is a community issue – you can't arrest a community issue. You have to help folks get out of the life they're in.

'That's always been our approach. This was blown out of proportion by some people promoting it who weren't listening to what we were saying, so it just had to play itself out.

'I think we disappointed a lot of haters this weekend, but we are not going to arrest homeless people because that doesn't fix the problem. That's a Band-Aid.

'The ordinance is just a tool that we may have to use if all other efforts fail, but I don't see enforcement being part of what we do moving forward because it's not going to solve the problem.'

DailyMailTV learned that officers tasked with enforcing the ordinance have effectively been given the order not to and been directed to issue warnings and not arrest unless a person becomes belligerent

Homeless people are pictured sleeping on the sidewalk outside the Regional Justice Center on the night of the ordinance's supposed enforcement. They were not arrested nor moved on by police who passed them by

Jerry Dowell, 65, a truck driver who lived in Pahrump, Nevada, before suffering a life-changing stroke. He says he is waiting for his birth-certificate so he can claim his Social Security but that homelessness is not his lowest ebb - that was the death of his five-year-old daughter many years ago

Some with whom DailyMailTV spoke claimed to be homeless by choice. Some lined up from late afternoon to secure a place in a shelter. Many said they felt safer on the street either isolated entirely or in the company of the few they trusted

Kenny LaVallie, 43, originally from Belcourt, North Dakota, is handed a bottle of water at the Courtyard Resource Center. People are permitted to take one bottle only

The condemned apartment block overlooks the Courtyard Resources Center. Water is handed out, dogs kenneled and sleeping mats laid down beneath this structure. Twelve porta-potties service an average of 300 'residents' a day

Homeless people sleep on the sidewalk on the night of the ordinance's supposed enforcement but they were not arrested nor moved on by police who passed them by

Lupi Cordova is pictured on a desolate side street near downtown Las Vegas. The man beside her is a friend of her ex-husband's. Lupi has been homeless since her husband left her for a younger woman

There are just 19 affordable housing units for every 100 that need them in Las Vegas. The apartments once housed women and children but today they are condemned

There are fewer than 2,000 beds in the City's approved shelters and 13,871 homeless people in Southern Nevada. Figures vary but on any given night there are between 5- 6,000 people without a permanent home in and around city lines.

The last available 'Point In Time' census conducted by Clarke County on January 23, 2019 recorded 5,530 homeless that night. Sixty percent of those were without shelter, a figure that includes people who slept in the City's Courtyard Resource Center.

According to the City's literature this center is a 'secure, safe place,' for the homeless to sleep and counts as one of its 'approved shelters.' It is part of a $16million commitment made by the City in 2017 to improve services for the homeless.

Construction on stage one began last year with a $10million injection of funds. A free-standing shelter that can house 800 is projected for completion in 2021.

But so far there is little to see but stretches of razed ground around the unprepossessing Courtyard itself.

There are 12 porta-potties to service the 300 or so that come through the courtyard daily. Bottles of water are handed out but no food and there are no beds, blankets or pillows, just mats on the ground - 450 at maximum capacity. They are laid out each night, barely a foot's breadth apart on a patch of ground that is open on all sides but roofed by the raised apartment block under which it is tucked.

There are just 19 affordable housing units for every 100 that need them here in Las Vegas. These apartments once housed women and children. Today they are condemned. Riddled with black mold and asbestos their empty windows look out onto the homeless below.

This is the City's 'Corridor of Hope,' though in truth it feels more like a cul-de-sac around which those unfortunate enough to find themselves circle.

By mid-morning small groups of homeless people sit along this stretch of Foremaster Lane. They are flanked on one side by the Courtyard and on the other by Catholic Charities – another of the City's approved shelters that provides beds for an average of 500 men a night.

A retractable steel gate was installed across the closest intersection a couple of months back.

'It seems like they want to round us up and cage us,' says 37-year-old Bruce, pointing to the unforgiving barrier. 'What does that look like to you? This isn't a shelter. It's a ghetto.

'Homelessness is an aesthetic problem. We don't look good. This is a big money town and they don't want people to see us.'

Bruce came to Las Vegas from San Diego in 2018. He hitch-hiked, 'just me, a sleeping bag and some ramen,' to be with his younger brother who served in the Army.

He said, 'I was going to start afresh. But it didn't work out that way.'

The entrance to the Courtyard Resources Center is often cluttered with the belongings of those on the street outside

'Frisca,' 39, holds a StormTrooper doll and water bottle, items that number among the odd assortment of belongings she has held onto since becoming homeless. She is pictured outside Las Vegas Courtyard Resources Center

Pictured is the homeless encampment that stretches along Las Vegas Rescue Mission's perimeter and beyond

Homeless man Larry Fox, 64, combs the streets of Downtown Las Vegas collecting bottles and cans from before dawn to after dusk. He does so because, he said, he does not want handouts or food stamps

Multiple ambulances are called to the Courtyard Resource Center each day. Some, according to one homeless man, are simply called as a 'free-ride' to the hospital and not out of any true medical emergency

A homeless man goes through a dumpster in a side alley off Las Vegas's tourist hub of Fremont Street

Bruce has a criminal record and history of substance abuse. He can't get a Sheriff's Card, the work permit necessary to work in any of the Vegas casinos and many other businesses here. He couldn't afford to rent a place, nor could he stay with his brother – who has his own family – indefinitely. And so 'starting afresh' quickly soured.

But, he said, 'I got here by myself, so I'll stay that way. There's a difference between being on the streets and living on the streets. We don't beg, we don't bother anyone. We eat hot food because of a single propane burner, we warm coffee and we get the water from a gas station. We don't cause any trouble. We just live.

'This ordinance makes it a crime to sleep. Isn't that unconstitutional? It's a violation of our rights.'

Thirty-two-year-old Eric has been homeless for two months since his landlord sold his apartment and he couldn't make the rent for a new one. 'How am I supposed to afford $1000 fine?,' he asked. 'It makes no sense and any time in jail is basically ruining my life.'

Inside the Courtyard is a clutter of people - a stereo plays, shouting breaks out sporadically and scuffles explode without warning then settle as quickly under the watchful eyes of five security guards. A group of men plays chess, another crowds round a table over a game of dominoes. Dogs bark from the cages in which they are penned unless their owners have permission to take them out.

According to Suzanne Saccento, 'it's not such a bad place to be.' She has been homeless for three years but said her troubles date back to 2003 when her husband was murdered – beaten to death by a friend while she stood helplessly by.

She is open about the issues she suffers – PTSD, paranoid schizophrenia, bi-polar manias, anxiety disorder and a history of substance abuse. Originally from Columbus, Ohio, the 50-year-old recalled life before her husband, Johnny's death as 'awesome.'

But said, 'After he was murdered, everything just went downhill from there. I couldn't hold down a job, couldn't focus. I've been consumed by it.'

'I'm not tough,' she said. 'Sleeping on the street is real scary. I've had people threaten me, I've had people pull guns on me, pull knives on me, threaten to take everything. I say have it, there's nothing much to take.'

She said that she feels safer in the Courtyard than on the streets but it 'fills up quick' and, like many homeless people who have pets, she won't go to a shelter that doesn't take animals. Suzanne's great comfort is Corgi-Pit rescue pup, Johnny – named after her late husband.

'So, I don't get into a shelter what happens? How can I get $1000?' she asked. 'How is that going to help?'

Patrick Lee, 35, a heroin addict who claims that it is safer to live on the streets that in shelters where people are more easily robbed and drugs more freely available. His friend who gave his name only as Rick looks on from his tent

Scenes from the heart of Downtown Las Vegas - the area affected by the city's recent ordinance prohibiting homeless people from sitting, sleeping or setting up camp on public by-ways and walk-ways

The Courtyard Resource Center allows people to house their dogs here provided there is room in the small area allotted. The constant barking is a source of much dispute but the animals bring their owners great comfort

A hypodermic needle lies discarded on the ground beneath a Vegas Highway, near a small homeless 'village' that is surrounded by trash and the discarded detritus of its occupants' daily lives

According to '7-11' – so called for his ability to acquire and sell all manner of items – 'You know the hardest thing to keep on the streets? Respect.

'It's like a concentration camp here and now they want you to go to jail for what? For sleeping? You're breaking our eighth amendment. How can it be a misdemeanor to be homeless?'

Homeless man Anthony Bonini, 36, calls the City's ordinance, 'The Tyranny Law, and sees only destruction in its passing

Rows of trash cans are lined up on a plot of land directly behind the Courtyard.

Gesturing to them 7-11 said, 'People say, 'Look at all that trash.' That's not trash. Each one of them holds everything someone in here owns. That's people's lives. I had a life once.'

'The shelters are full as it is,' said 36-year-old Anthony Bonini, who referred to the new ordinance as 'the Tyranny Law,' and said he intended to 'petition the City to stop it.' Bonini has lived in Las Vegas for 18 years. He said he had been homeless for the past few months since his rent was raised and he lost his job. He said he has mental health issues and his soft voice rose and pitched wildly as his agitation grew.

'I don't see any help here,' he said, 'I only see destruction.'

Of the people with whom DailyMailTV spoke across several days almost all had come to Vegas for a fresh start. They had come because of a person who had failed or abused them, a promise that was broken, a check that wasn't cashed, or to escape a past that could not be left behind – drugs, mental health issues, crime. Sex offenders, gang members, drug dealers and lost souls – they are all to be found in the Courtyard and out on the streets.

Sixty-five-year-old Jerry Dowell was a trucker from Philadelphia who moved to Los Angeles after his marriage ended. He has been in and out of the Courtyard a year, he said, since he came home one day and 'fell down,' with a stroke.

He was airlifted from his home in Pahrump, 60 miles West of Las Vegas and when he got out of hospital he was brought here by the Salvation Army.

He said, 'I'm waiting for my birth certificate so I can get my Social Security and get back. I lost my home because I couldn't make rent and they took my truck.'

But this isn't the lowest ebb of his life, he said. That happened many years ago, 'I had a little girl, but she died. She was playing on a swing and the rope wrapped round her neck. She was five years old. I was on the road and by the time I got home she was already buried.'

Jachadre Reynolds, 52, (foreground) homeless after 30 years of living in Las Vegas, sits on the sidewalk of Las Vegas City's so-called 'Corridor of Hope,' across from the gates of the Courtyard Resources Center

The last available 'Point In Time' census conducted by Clarke County on January 23, 2019 recorded 5,530 homeless people. Sixty percent of those were without shelter, a figure that includes people who slept in the City's Courtyard Resource Center

'Homelessness is an aesthetic problem. We don't look good. This is a big money town and they don't want people to see us,' 37-year-old homeless man Bruce tells DailyMailTV

Asked how he spends his days he smiled a tired smile and said, 'I wait.'

Some with whom DailyMailTV spoke claimed to be homeless by choice. Some lined up from late afternoon to secure a place in a shelter. While beyond the courtyard perimeter many said they felt safer on the street either isolated entirely or in the company of the few they trusted. Some did not want to take 'handouts.'

Larry Fox, 64, falls into that category. Originally from Mississippi he has been homeless in Vegas for two years since the end of a relationship meant he could no longer make rent. He collects cans and bottles from before sunrise to past sunset.

He covers a small area, he said, and paces himself so he can keep on going hour after hour, however hot it gets.

'I don't rely on food stamps,' he said. He estimated that his day's haul – trash bags so full they threatened to topple his shopping cart – might fetch $17. With that he could eat and maybe get a room if he could find somebody to come in on the cost of a night. 'Or I can make a tent,' he said. 'I won't give up.'

Heroin addict Patrick Lee, 35, chooses to stay out of shelters because, he explained, 'There are more drugs in the shelters and you're more likely to get robbed in there than you are out here. You're more confined. It's more dangerous.'

For now, Patrick lives in a huddle of tents, upturned shopping carts, garden chairs and clothing in a trash strewn corridor under a Highway. Vehicles thunder over-head. A half-dressed man, covered in grime and dust, lies sleeping in the dirt a few feet away.

A few moments earlier Clarence Thomas, 57, had cycled through – his belongings tethered and stuffed onto every available space on his bike. Speaking about the ordinance he said, 'Sometimes the shelters are full, sometimes the shelter is not where you want to be.

'I don't want to be homeless. I'm tired to be honest with you. They say this is a law to help the homeless but instead this is a law to destroy them.

'A lot of us have been dealt a bad hand but you can only play the hand you're dealt and sometimes you get so tired you can't jump through the hoops anymore. 'I have a long criminal history, including jail time. I feel like I didn't have a lot, but I could have done a whole lot better with what I had. I feel like God has forgiven me, but I don't know if I've forgiven me.'

Asked how long he had been homeless Clarence smiled and said, 'Since the Flood. Since Noah.'

He added, 'We all got some kind of little demon inside us. I'm not an under-the- bridge, down-in-the-sewer kind of guy. But here I am. Put yourself on my path.'

Brian Zak, 46, (left) and Rahmyl 'R.R.' Ringo, 46, (right) are both homeless in Las Vegas after falling hard on their luck

Access to the bins provided by the Courtyard Resource Center is restricted and not allowed without a 'Clarity Card' issued by the center

Suzanne Saccento, 50, struggles to hold back her Corgi-Pit Bull, Johnny, from another passing dog. Three security guards were forced to intervene as other residents became irate and agitated as the scene unfolded

Clarence Thomas, 57, rides his bike through a homeless camp beneath the Highway. Asked how long he has been homeless Thomas replied, 'Since the Flood. Since Noah'

Businessowner David Hudson has tried to do just that – put himself in the shoes of those less fortunate, show compassion and help. And today he finds himself more torn than ever about the ordinance.

Hudson, 55, an assistant pastor and owner of Emma's Closet, a store that sells new and second hand furniture, home wear and clothing, explained, 'I've been at this location five years and at first I used to let the homeless sleep here, in the shelter at the front of the store.

'But it got so they were leaving their trash and defecating all over the space and in the mornings they wouldn't leave. They were destroying the place, so it had to stop.

'So I'm in favor of the ordinance to a point. I have a heart and I want to help but as far as what the City's is trying to do…I'm for it and against it.

'They're trying to push then from Downtown, well buy a warehouse - there are so many, put beds in it. But don't fine them, to me that makes no sense. How is that even going to work?'

How, and if, it is going to work remains to be seen. After all, the ordinance has entered a second, unofficial, grace period of sorts and with it the problem has been kicked a little further down the road.

Everyone has a view, those affected and those not. Outside the Courtyard as the day dimmed 7-11 was fatalistic, 'Being homeless is being trapped. It's a round room with a square door.

'Pray for your children,' he said, 'If you can't pray for us, pray for them. Pray that they're never homeless.'